Marriage of Convenience

Chapter Seven

Freya felt her insides, clench. Fool that she was, she hadn't viewed marriage to him from that angle, merely from the academic side. Two compatible adults merging their lives, their assets, for mutual benefit—that was the way she'd seen it. A marriage of convenience, a business arrangement, made tolerable by their mutual respect.

A full marriage, having children, meant sleeping together, having sex. It put an entire complexion on the whole idea. Sex without love seemed unconscionably dirty in her view. But not in his, obviously. And why, oh, why hadn't she at least considered the possibility that he might demand a full, physical marriage? Because her head had been too full of the need to take control of her inheritance, she answered herself drily, to think about what Theo Dylan might want!

She stared at the tablecloth, as if the fine fabric held a weird fascination, quite unable to meet his eyes as the beginnings of a slow, deep flush made itself felt. She knew those clever azure eyes were on her, analyzing her reaction, and she strove to keep calm.

She had seen the outcome of his acceptance only from her narrow viewpoint, as a means of enabling her to pay off Leo Isaac, shield Uncle Charles. She had looked no further than that, believing that Theo would view the union as a business arrangement, too, that the offer of the Dexter Securities shares and the addition of her own considerable fortune to his might be enough.

However, he was not a eunuch and naturally enough he wanted children, and as a male, he was biologically different and could enjoy sex without love; his emotions would not have to be involved. And if he wanted children then it would be her duty, as his wife, to produce them. But could she go through with such a marriage—to a man she did not love?

She would have to, the answer came starkly. And if she accepted the benefits of his acquiescence then she must accept the other. The alternative, Isaac's foul threat to go to the seamier tabloids, was impossible to contemplate.

Having rationalized the situation, accepted it with the logic that was such an intrinsic part of her way of thinking, she was able to meet his eyes squarely, unconsciously lifting her chin and setting her shoulders.

'I accept your condition. I can understand that a man in your position needs an heir.'

'But I would like to make one condition of my own- that we don't—we don't actually sleep together for, well, a couple of weeks or so after we're married.' She met the cool questioning of his eyes, the slight upward tilt of one strongly defined black brow. I'd like time to adjust, to get to know you better—as a husband, I mean—before we actually, er--' Words failed her then and he supplied,

'Make love.'

His eyes moved with lazy boldness over her lips, her throat, the sweet, curving line of her shoulders and breasts.

'It's a bargain, Freya. Two weeks to the day.' And she hung her head, her fingers twisting mindlessly in her lap. It sounded less like a bargain than an awful threat!

They were married quietly three weeks later, and the only, people at the sort civil ceremony were Aunt Sophia, Sam and Theo's sister Kate.

It was fitting in a way, Freya thought as she left the registrar's office on Theo's arm, that there weren't vast throngs of people waiting to celebrate a wedding that had been arranged, on her part through dark necessity, and on his a need, at last, to begin a family to carry on his name, to inherit his vast wealth.

But Sophia had been delighted when she'd heard the news, Freya recalled as she watched her aunt and Kate climb into Sam's BMW for the drive back to Dexter House.

'An excellent match!' That lady had come as near to open enthusiasm as it was possible for her to do. 'It will be good to have the Dylan name so closely allied with the Dexter's' again.'