Page 27 of Her Fantasy Husband

“And who the hell were all those people?”

“They live there.” She gave another little lift of her shoulders. “It’s a big house. There’s plenty of room.”

She sank onto the seat opposite him. As she took a deep breath, he caught a fleeting glimpse of vulnerability in her face before she blanked out her expression. “I’ll give you more money if you keep to the original deal.”

His muscles tightened. She thought she could pay him off? “Do you think your money can buy everything?”

Her arched brows drew together. “It bought you the first time,” she pointed out in a reasonable tone that had anger sizzling along his nerves.

But she was right. However much he might hate it, it had been her money that had started his business. Without it, he would have been successful eventually, but it would have taken him a lot longer. That hadn’t been why he’d taken the money, it had been for something else entirely. Something he’d considered vitally important at the time. It had turned out not to matter. He could have given the money back then. But he hadn’t, so maybe he deserved her comment. But it didn’t make him like the situation anymore.

“I don’t need your money.”

She sighed and rubbed a finger between her eyes, as though she had a headache. “I was afraid of that. But we can’t get an annulment.”

“Did you arrange that?”

Something flashed in her eyes, and his anger ratcheted a notch. “Did I deliberately set out to seduce you so you couldn’t get an annulment?” She shook her head. “No. You don’t know me very well, but that isn’t something I would do.”

But he’d seen that telltale flash of guilt in her eyes, and now her skin colored slightly. He was a goddamn idiot, taken in by a pretty face and a lush little body.

“Then we’ll get a divorce.”

“I’ll contest it, and it will take more than the six months I’ve asked for. Why not accept it, and then afterward we can get the divorce and you’ll be free of me.” She gave him that sweet smile, the one that did weird things to his insides and made him want to be a better person. And he hardened himself to the reaction.

“Come on, Josh. It’s the only sensible option.”

Thing was—he hated being manipulated. And he had a feeling she was doing just that.

“No, there’s another option. How about you agree to the quickie divorce my lawyer is drawing up right now, or I pay a visit to Grandmamma and tell her about out little arrangement?”

He didn’t wait for her to reply—the look of horror in her eyes was answer enough. And suddenly he felt like a complete piece of shit. But she thought she could play him, and he hated that.

He pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. “Call me and let me know your decision.”

Fifteen minutes later, he was sitting at the table in Logan’s much smarter kitchen—all black and silver and immaculately clean and organized, and not a chicken in sight.

“How’s it going?” Logan asked.

He shrugged. “I fucked things up big time.”

Logan raised an eyebrow.

“You could say I fucked and I fucked up.”

“You slept with your wife?”

“We didn’t actually sleep.” What would it be like to sleep wrapped around all that softness?

“You had sex with the woman you were going to get an annulment from?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought she wasn’t your type.”

“She isn’t.”

Logan rubbed a hand along his jawline. “I suppose after five years that probably wouldn’t make much of a difference.”

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