An Unsuitable Husband(Entangled Indulgence)




“I am.” He nodded to the assistant to put his card into the machine. Apparently, she’d lost this round.

Theresa slid her arm around Emile’s waist and leaned up to whisper in his ear. “I’m only letting you pay because I need a favor.”

“Another one, chérie?”

“Yes, well. This is something different.” She took a deep breath. “I need you to come and meet my parents this Saturday.”

A look of utter incredulity swept over his face. “This Saturday?”

“Yes. My mother has invited us for lunch, and it seemed sensible to get it over with. Are you busy?”

He ran a hand over his face in disbelief. He took the card machine from the assistant and punched in his number, but his shoulders were shaking.

“What is it? What’s wrong with Saturday?”

He held up a finger while he completed the transaction and took the card back from the assistant. They made the arrangements for delivery and left the shop.

“Now tell me.”

He pulled her round the corner into a quiet side street, then backed her up against a wall, one hand either side of her face, his body almost but not quite touching hers, so that she was aware of every single inch of him.

“This Saturday.” His thumbs came to rest on her jawline. “I have to play.” He leaned in. “It’s quite an important match.”

She managed to nod. “I should have thought of that. Most people have weekends free.”

“It is my job, chérie.”

His breath was warm against her skin. She seemed to have stopped breathing altogether. “I... I understand.”

His lips kissed hers, so briefly she almost wondered if she had imagined it.

“So, if I am to meet your family...” He tilted his head and moved in closer. “They’ll need to come to the match.”

She frowned. “Not a good idea.” Her mother was going to be angry enough. Better to get it over with in private.

“Well, then.” He traced a line down her cheek with one finger. “It’ll just be you cheering for me.”

“Me?”

“I do a favor for you, you do one for me. A public show of support. My wife in the players’ box.” His mouth followed the line of his finger, along her jaw, down the side of her neck, with his tongue flicking out to trace tiny circles of pleasure on her skin. “Ernestinho is also playing. Mariella will be there. We’re all supposed to look as though we are friends.”

It was her side of the bargain. Rehabilitate Emile’s reputation. “Uh huh. You know, we could be at my house in five minutes.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t stop what he was doing.

“In bed. Naked. In five minutes.”

That made him look up, a wicked gleam in his eyes. “You make an excellent point.”



Her phone rang just as they reached her front door. Theresa tucked it under her ear while she found her key and let them inside. Whoever was on the other end of the phone was clearly panicking about something.

“Today? Damn.” Theresa gestured to him to shut the door. “No, I understand. Fine. Half an hour.”

She switched off the phone and shook her head. “Sorry. I have to go in to work.”

Work? She was planning to ditch him and go back to the office on their wedding day? “I thought you’d taken the day off.”

She grimaced. “I did. But the client doesn’t care about that.”

“So, what, you just jump when they snap their fingers?”

“Pretty much.” She was already halfway up the stairs.

He followed her. “Take the day off.”

Theresa didn’t even turn her head. “Don’t be silly.”

“I’m not the one planning to go into work on my wedding day.” He knew he sounded grumpy, but he’d been looking forward to spending the day with Theresa. She was fun, when she wasn’t constantly challenging him. And even when she was, she was damned sexy while she did it.

She paused at the top of the stairs and patted his cheek. “Poor baby. Will you be lonely?”

Damn her. He knew he sounded pathetic but he had to ask. “When will you be finished? I could pick you up.”

She laughed. “No idea. Not this side of midnight, I shouldn’t think.”

“They can’t expect you to work that late.” There were laws about that sort of thing, weren’t there?

“They can and they do.”

“You mean this has happened before? You should put your foot down.”

She laughed. “It’s part of the job, Emile. Everyone works late when they have to. I wasn’t expecting it tonight, though. The client moved the deadline.”

“But tomorrow you will be free?”

“Hold on a second, I need to call a cab.”

She’d stripped off her top and jeans by the time her call was answered. She issued her instructions clearly and swiftly.

“It’ll be here in five minutes.”

“I can take you.” Which was ridiculous, but he liked the idea of seeing where she worked. He seemed to have an inexhaustible curiosity about this woman. Perhaps because he’d never known someone like her before.

“No need. I’ll claim it on expenses.”

He’d never seen her in work clothes. The dark grey suit was about as conservative as he’d ever seen. The skirt sat a fraction of an inch above her knees and the jacket had the slightest hint of shaping at waist and bust. She wore a pinstriped shirt with cufflinks. Cufflinks, for Christ’s sake. And those shoes. Ugly, square-heeled monstrosities that did nothing for the shape of her calves.

And yet, the outfit suited her. In a strange sort of way, she looked at home in the corporate uniform. Not sexy, nor even attractive, but definitely a force to be reckoned with. Emile shivered. He’d seen just how forceful she could be when she wanted something. He wouldn’t want to be an opposing lawyer in court against Theresa.

She’d picked up her bag and a smart coat. She took ten seconds to glance in the mirror and add a dash of lipstick in an understated color that wasn’t quite red or pink but somewhere in between.

“I’ll let you know when the ring arrives.”

“After work tomorrow?” When had he become the kind of guy who had to pin a woman down to a date and bribe her to watch him play? Or the kind of guy that was trailing a woman downstairs while she waited for a cab to take her to work?

“Oh, I’ll be at the office late every night this week, I expect. Don’t worry about me.”

He shook his head. He wasn’t worried about her, he was frustrated and furious and trying to pretend that he didn’t care. “No wedding night, then?”

A smile lit her face. “I’d say we already anticipated that, wouldn’t you?”

“You bought new underwear.”

“Fair point. But we’ll still have to take a rain check.”

Outside, a car horn beeped. It would be her cab. Emile put his hands on Theresa’s shoulders. “I’ll send you the ticket for Saturday. And after the match, chérie, we will have our wedding night.”

She looked up into his eyes, a wicked gleam in her own. “So should I wear the new lingerie? Or not?”

He groaned. “Wear it. I need to be able to concentrate on the match.”

She laughed. “Fine. And on Sunday, you’ll come and meet my parents. Then that’ll be it. I doubt if we’ll need to see each other again.”

“But if we want to?”

Ros Clarke's books