Why are you really doing this, she asked again, moving closer to him, determined to see past his mask. Ethan’s eyes darkened as she approached. Does it matter? I’m offering you a way out of public humiliation, a comfortable life, freedom to pursue your art career without worrying about money.
It matters to me, she insisted, standing her ground. Something changed in his face then, a moment of vulnerability so brief she might have imagined it. Maybe I’m tired of watching my brother throw away things of value.
The word sent an unexpected warmth through her chest. Before she could analyze it, he continued, his voice hardening again. This is a one-time offer, Emma.
The guests are seated, people are getting restless. Your choice. She studied him, this man she barely knew, yet was somehow considering marrying.
Tall, powerful, mysterious, nothing like his charming, easygoing brother. There were depths to Ethan Carter that Liam would never possess. If I agree to this insanity, she said slowly, there would be conditions.
A slight smile touched his lips, transforming his severe features. I expected nothing less. This would be temporary, she stated.
One year, then a quiet divorce with a generous settlement, he nodded. Acceptable, we would live together for appearances’ sake. But she hesitated, suddenly aware of the intimacy they were discussing.
Separate bedrooms, he finished for her, unless you decide otherwise. The implication sent heat rushing to her cheeks. There was something in his voice, in those intense blue eyes, that made her suddenly acutely aware of him as a man.
She pushed the thought away. And I maintain my independence, my career, my friends, of course. He extended his hand to her.
Do we have an agreement, Emma Thompson? She stared at his offered hand, knowing this decision would change everything. This morning, she had been certain of her future with Liam. Now she was considering binding herself to his enigmatic older brother, a man whose true motivations remained a mystery.
Just as she reached to take his hand, a knock came at the door, followed by the wedding planner’s anxious voice. Miss Thompson, the guests are getting concerned. Is everything all right? Time had run out.
Decision time. Emma took a deep breath and placed her hand in Ethan’s. His fingers closed around hers, warm and strong, sending an unexpected current of electricity up her arm that made her breath catch.
Yes, she said. The word both an answer to the wedding planner and to Ethan’s proposition. Tell them the wedding will proceed shortly.
As the footsteps retreated, Ethan’s eyes held hers, something primal and possessive, flaring in their blue depths. You won’t regret this, he said quietly. But as he raised her hand to his lips in a gesture that seemed both old-fashioned and intensely intimate, Emma wondered if she already did.
Not because she feared what lay ahead, but because of the inexplicable flutter in her stomach when his lips brushed against her skin, a sensation she had never once felt with Liam. Outside, the string quartet began playing the wedding march. In minutes, she would walk down the aisle toward a different Carter than the one she’d expected.
And despite everything, a part of her, a part she wasn’t ready to acknowledge, whispered that perhaps fate had intervened to give her the brother she was truly meant to have. Chapter 2. Dangerous Propositions. The wedding ceremony passed in a blur of unreality for Emma.
She walked down the aisle in a daze, aware of the murmurs rippling through the crowd when they saw Ethan standing at the altar instead of Liam. Her eyes locked with his, intense unwavering blue against her warm brown, and something primitive passed between them, steadying her when she thought she might collapse. Who gives this woman? the minister asked, following the script that now seemed like some bizarre play.
She gives herself, Emma answered before her uncle could speak, her voice stronger than she expected. A flash of admiration crossed Ethan’s face, there and gone in an instant. The vows they exchanged were traditional words about love and devotion that felt hollow on her lips, but somehow sounded sincere in Ethan’s deep baritone.
When he slid the ring onto her finger, not the one Liam had chosen, but a platinum band with a stunning black diamond that Ethan had produced from nowhere, his touch lingered, sending warmth cascading through her veins. You may kiss the bride, the minister announced. Emma froze.
They hadn’t discussed this part. Ethan stepped closer, his scent enveloping her, sandalwood and something distinctly male. He cupped her face with unexpected gentleness, his thumb caressing her cheekbone.
May I? he whispered, his breath warm against her lips. A question, so unexpected from this commanding man, made her heart flutter. She gave a slight nod and his mouth descended on hers.
It was meant to be brief, perfunctory. It became anything but. The moment their lips touched, something electric sparked between them.
What started as a chaste press of lips transformed when Emma gasped involuntarily, and Ethan took advantage, deepening the kiss with a hunger that shocked them both. His arms slid around her waist, pulling her against the hard planes of his body, as her hands found their way to his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath her palm. They broke apart to scattered applause and knowing looks that assumed this passion was why the groom had changed.
Emma’s cheeks burned as Ethan’s eyes held hers, darkened with something that looked dangerously like desire. Breathe, he murmured, so only she could hear, his hand at the small of her back, guiding her down the aisle. The reception that followed was a masterclass in Ethan’s control.
He never left her side, his hand possessively at her waist as they greeted guests who offered congratulations, laced with curiosity. To each he presented a carefully crafted story. Liam had been called away on urgent business, and rather than disappoint Emma, Ethan had stepped in, their long hidden feelings finally acknowledged.
You’re quite the actor, Emma whispered during a rare moment alone, her smile fixed for the watching guests. Who says I’m acting, he replied, his eyes intense as they swept over her face. Before she could respond, they were interrupted by the arrival of Richard Carter, Ethan’s father, 62.
Well, this is unexpected, the older man said, his patrician features arranged in an expression of polite disbelief. When I received word of the switch, I assumed it was some kind of joke. Father, Ethan acknowledged with a slight nod, I’m glad you could attend on such short notice.
Richard’s cold gaze settled on Emma, Ms. Thompson, or should I say Mrs. Carter now, you’ve managed quite the upgrade today. Emma felt Ethan tense beside her. It’s still Emma, she replied coolly, and I believe I’m the one who’s fortunate, not Ethan.
Something like approval flickered in Richard’s eyes before he turned back to his son. I expect a full explanation tomorrow at the office. We’ll be on our honeymoon, Ethan responded, his tone leaving no room for argument, business can wait.
After Richard walked away, Emma turned to Ethan, honeymoon, that wasn’t part of our agreement. It’s expected, he replied, his hand warm against her back, and necessary for appearances, unless you’d prefer to face everyone’s questions immediately, he had a point. Where are we supposedly going? A ghost of a smile touched his lips.
My island in the Caribbean, private, secluded, separate bedrooms, as promised. The thought of being alone with Ethan on a private island sent a shiver through her that wasn’t entirely fear. The rest of the reception passed in a haze of champagne and forced smiles.
When midnight approached, they made their exit amid suggestive cheers and knowing winks. Instead of the honeymoon suite Liam had booked, Ethan drove them to his penthouse overlooking Central Park, the city lights glittering below like fallen stars. Home, sweet home, he said dryly, ushering her into a foyer larger than her entire former apartment.
The penthouse was exactly what she’d expected from him. Sleek, modern, masculinely elegant, yet with surprising touches that spoke of genuine artistic appreciation. Original paintings hung on the walls, not the safe, investmentally classic she’d anticipated, but bold, challenging works from emerging artists.
Her artist’s eye recognized talent in every piece. Your room is this way, Ethan said, leading her down a hallway. I had your things brought over from Liam’s place while we were at the reception.
The guest suite he showed her to was beautiful, done in soothing creams and blues, with a wall of windows overlooking the park. On the bed lay her suitcases, the ones she’d packed for her honeymoon with Liam. The sight of them, a jarring reminder of how drastically her life had changed in 12 hours.
We should discuss terms, Ethan said, remaining in the doorway as if reluctant to breach her space. Gone was the man who had kissed her with such passion at the altar, replaced by the cool businessman she’d glimpsed at family gatherings. Now, Emma asked, exhaustion suddenly washing over her, it’s been a long day.
Something softened in his expression. Tomorrow then, I have contracts prepared. Of course you do.
Contracts, how romantic. A dangerous smile curved his lips. I think we established at the altar that romance might be problematic between us.
Heat rushed to her face at the memory of that kiss. That was for show, was it? His voice lowered, sending illicious shivers down her spine. Interesting how your body contradicted that theory.
You’re not him, she said suddenly, needing to establish this boundary. I won’t be a replacement for your brother’s discarded toy. In an instant, Ethan crossed the room, stopping inches from her.
This close she could see the flecks of darker blue in his eyes, smell the intoxicating scent of his skin. Let me be perfectly clear, he said, his voice a low rumble that she felt rather than heard. I have never, not for one second, seen you as Liam’s anything.
You were always too extraordinary for him. The words hung between them, charged with implications neither was ready to explore. Emma’s heart hammered against her ribs as his gaze dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes.
For one breathless moment, she thought he might kiss her again. Instead, he stepped back, control reasserting itself. Get some rest, Emma.
Tomorrow we discuss our arrangement in detail. He turned to leave, but she called after him. Why did you really do this, Ethan? The truth this time? He paused in the doorway, his broad shoulders tense.
For a moment, she thought he might ignore the question. Then, without turning, perhaps I’ve been watching you longer than you realize. The door closed behind him, leaving Emma alone with the cryptic statement that sent equal parts fear and excitement coursing through her veins.
She’d changed out of her wedding dress, carefully hanging the gown that had been meant for a different Carter brother. As she slipped into bed, her mind whirled with the day’s events. Abandoned by one brother, married to another, bound now in a contract whose terms remained as mysterious as the man who had offered it.
Sleep eluded her. Through the night, she paced the luxurious guest room, occasionally pausing at the window to watch the city below. Was Ethan sleeping or was he too lying awake, separated from her by walls and unspoken boundaries? The thought of him, perhaps shirtless in bed, those intense eyes staring at the ceiling, sent unwelcome heat through her body.