He’d thought it would be easy, hadn’t expected to meet any opposition, which had obviously been short-sighted of him.
For the first time he considered things from his wife’s point of view. Why had she entered into this marriage? He’d thought her some little rich bitch who wanted access to her money so she could party harder. Now he was revising that opinion. Her clothes had been old and basic—apart from the killer heels—and she wore no jewelry. Her fingernails were short and unpainted. If she was spending money, it wasn’t on her appearance.
Maybe something to do with her family? They obviously believed the marriage to be real. And she was determined to keep it that way.
And that was nothing to do with him, either. He wanted his annulment, though he was quite prepared to do it quietly if she wanted to go on pretending they were married. Or she could tell everyone they’d divorced. That part was up to her.
But the annulment itself? Somehow he needed to persuade her it was in both their best interests. He took another sip of scotch and remembered the taste of her on his tongue. His dick twitched in his pants. She wasn’t his type, but she’d felt good in his arms, soft and curvy and…
He groaned. He needed to get laid, and that was all. He needed to get out of this sham of a marriage, find himself a woman, and maybe then he could stop thinking about sex.
Because thinking about sex with his wife was not an option.
And it never would be, so his dick was just going to have to get over it and move on like the rest of him.
Chapter Three
Lexi loitered outside the gate and peered down the road every thirty seconds. She’d decided it was probably better if Josh didn’t come into the house; the setup could be a little overwhelming at first. And he needed his wits about him tonight. She glanced down at herself and gave a rueful shrug. Her black dress was covered in paw prints.
She’d stayed tidy for five minutes. That was probably a record for her. And it was nearly seven-thirty—her grandmother would be waiting. No time to change now.
Besides, if she went in, she might not come out again. She was feeling a little shy every time she remembered that she had kissed him. Correction: first she’d jumped him, then she’d kissed him.
And now he wanted an annulment. She’d talked to her lawyer that afternoon, and this had the potential to become a huge mess.
In some ways, her father had been a very modern man, in others he’d bordered on antiquated. He’d left most of his money to Lexi—in trust until she was twenty-four, or when she married. As though having a husband would miraculously make her capable of handling a fortune worth millions.
Now, if the marriage was annulled and her family wanted to be difficult—and hell, when hadn’t her grandmother wanted to be difficult—they could claim she’d had access to the money fraudulently. They could tie her up in legal knots so she wouldn’t even get access when she turned twenty-four. It was a nightmare.
A nightmare Joshua Slater was responsible for. And could prevent.
A big, black car drew up right on the dot of seven-thirty. A sensible car. Spotlessly clean. And expensive.
She drooped a little at that. She’d held out hope that he was just as money hungry as her family, but he was obviously not in need of cash. Which was bad news, because that would have been an easy solution. It would have depressed her a little, and she realized she wanted Josh to be…nice. Okay, nice might be pushing it, but the honorable man of her dreams, at least. But she’d decided, after the conversation with her lawyer, that she would offer him more money if that was what it took—money to do nothing for the next six months, and then a quiet divorce when it would no longer matter.
A divorce would be fine. An annulment would be a disaster.
Pity they hadn’t consummated the marriage—at least not in real life—then an annulment wouldn’t be a possibility.
Not an option, Lexi.
And now it seemed unlikely offering him money would be an option either.
He leaned over and opened the car door for her, and she slid into the passenger seat, casting him what she hoped was a casual peek. Then turned back to stare. He was stunning, gorgeous in a dark gray suit and a white shirt, open at the collar showing the tanned column of his throat.
“Hi,” she mumbled, brushing at the paw prints down her front. “Thanks for coming.” She hadn’t been entirely sure he would.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“The Ritz.”
“Of course we are.”
He was silent for a minute as they headed into the traffic. She glanced down at her hands in her lap and noticed a run in her stockings. She tugged the hem of her dress down to cover it and sighed. They needed to talk and didn’t have long. She’d made a mental list of topics to cover. Time to get started.
She cleared her throat. “So we need to get our stories straight. Grandmamma will be asking you questions.”
“Don’t worry. I’ve been trained to withstand torture.”
“Ha. You think this is funny. Just wait.”