Revenge At The Altar. Louise Fuller
touch of his mouth, his hands, his body, was so familiar, so intoxicating, that she would have had to be inhuman not to respond. He was warm and solid and real—more real than anything else in the room, in the world.
It was impossible to deny, and he was impossible to resist...like drowning. The pain and the misery of the last ten years was fading into a pleasure that she had never expected to feel again, a pleasure she had only ever felt in Max’s arms.
Something stirred in her head and she felt a kick of resistance.
Only it was all a lie, a cold-blooded seduction. He hadn’t felt anything. Not then, and definitely not now.
And just like that the spell was broken. Heart still racing, she jerked her mouth free and pushed him away.
Resurfacing into the cool, sedate daylight of the boardroom, she felt heat burning her face. Only now it was the heat of humiliation. How had she let that happen? Why had she given herself to this man? A man who felt nothing for her and used her feelings as a weapon against herself.
Oh, he wanted her—but certainly not because he was powerless to do otherwise...
Skin burning, she took a step back and pressed her hand against her mouth, trying to blot out the imprint of his lips, wishing there was a way she could erase him as quickly and permanently from her life and her memory.
But the truth was that even when she’d had every reason to do so she hadn’t managed to wipe Max from her mind. And now she actually had a reason for him to be in her life.
Her pulse fluttered and she felt a momentary swirling panic rise up inside her chest like storm water. And then just as swiftly it drained away. This was not a time for feelings to get in the way of facts. And the facts were bleak.
The business was not just failing, it was heading for bankruptcy. And it wasn’t just Duvernay the business that was facing ruin. If—no, when the business collapsed, her family would be thrown into the spotlight, humbled and humiliated. Worse, they would be homeless.
She didn’t want to marry Max, but without his money her life and that of her family—the life they all took for granted—would not just be difficult, it would cease to exist. And how would she—how would they?—cope living like ordinary people?
Her heart contracted. They wouldn’t. And she couldn’t expect them to do so.
Briefly, she felt the weight of her responsibilities. For if this was to work then once again she would have to put her family before herself. To lie and keep secrets. But what choice did she have?
Right now, Max was her only option. Without him all would be lost.
Heat burned in her cheeks. But wasn’t there just a tiny part of herself that was relieved to have Max there, going into battle alongside her? And, really, was marriage such a big sacrifice to make for the sake of your family and a two hundred year legacy?
She stilled her breathing, like a diver preparing to jump, and then, before she could change her mind, she said quickly, ‘Okay, I’ll marry you. But it has to look and feel real, like a traditional wedding. We’ll need to talk about it properly.’
As an attempt to reassert her power it was pretty meaningless. She was in no position to demand anything—she knew it, and he knew it too—and yet she also knew instinctively that she couldn’t allow herself to be a push-over.
She’d half expected him to rise to her challenge. Only he didn’t. Instead he merely nodded, as though she’d asked him to email her an invoice rather than discuss the conditions of their marriage of convenience.
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