Page 8 of Jordan
To her surprise, he seemed to know his way around. He had shed his jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his sweater to reveal powerful forearms covered with dark hair. Tearing her eyes from the enticing scene, she watched in silence as he poured the steaming water over the pouch and added honey. Putting it in front of her, he straddled the stool and stared at her in silence. "Drink. You look like you're about to fall to pieces."
Picking up the cup, she blew on it and took a sip.
"What do you want?"
"Finish the tea. Hungry?"
"No."
Sliding off the stool, he went to the pantry and foraged around until he found a tin of biscuits. Grabbing a plate, he took some out and placed them neatly on the ceramic.
"I don't--"
"Eat."
Glaring at him, she pulled the plate and took up a shortbread biscuit and took a bite.
"Satisfied?"
He actually smiled, eyes crinkling. "Not yet."
"What do you want?"
"You hate the Wainwright family."
His blunt declaration had her starting. Putting the cup down, she gave him a steely look.
"I don't think about your family," she told him primly.
"Don't you?" His eyes wandered over her face, and he felt the now familiar wrench inside his chest at the desolate expression on her face. She had certainly changed, he mused. Who would have thought that the scrawny kid that used to stare at him with stars in her eyes had turned out to be an exquisite beauty.
Picking up a biscuit, he nibbled, eyes going to her lips. "I am not very fond of them myself. I want to propose an unusual solution to both our problems."
"I don't have one."
"I would say you do." He brushed the crumbs off his fingers and reached for the glass of water he had filled. Taking a sip, he kept his eyes on her face. "I need a wife."
If she had not been sitting down, she probably would have fallen flat on her butt. The cup bobbled in her hand, forcing her to put it down.
"Excuse me?"
He smiled at her shocked expression.
"I have a conundrum. My parents are determined to marry me off to someone I am not interested in. I want them off my back. And I would like you to marry me."
She laughed softly, one hand going to her chest. "You're a funny guy."
"I have been accused of such a thing." He took another sip of water. The past couple of days had him thinking and he had come up with the solution. He would find his own bride and force them to accept her. He knew their views on people outside their race and wanted to teach them a lesson. "Look me in the eyes and tell me honestly that you haven't been dreaming of getting revenge for the way they treated your mother."
Her eyes flashed, giving him the answer.
"Don't speak of my mother."
He reached across to touch her hand briefly, tightening his grip as she started to pull away. "She was sweet. Your mother was kind and tried her best to be there for me. She was not treated fairly. She was kind and compassionate and always had something positive to say to me. I liked her."
She had to blink away the tears. Turning her head away, she stared out the window. The rain had started, soft and silent, pinging against the window. Caleb was right. Coming back had been a mistake. Being here was bringing back all the awful memories and making her feel as if she wanted to vent her frustrations and despair.
"We can help each other." His soft tone had her turning her head to look at him. "I want them off my damn back and you want your revenge. I promise that it would be in name only. I am asking for a year. During that time, I will keep my hands tomyself, and we live our separate lives. The only condition is that we live together. They have to believe that we're madly in love with each other."
