Mr. Blackwell's Bride: A Fake Marriage Romance (A Good Wife Book 2) Page 8

  “They’re protesters.”

  I shot Drake a look. “Really? I couldn’t figure that one out for myself. What are they protesting against?”

  “Me.”

  “Against you? I can’t see how you could anger anyone enough to garner protesters.” My words were sarcastic but my tone was light.

  “You looking to join them, wife?”

  “Join them? Heavens, no.” I grinned. “I thought I should lead them.”

  He rewarded me with a laugh. There you go. I made the beast laugh. Perhaps there’s hope for him yet. “They’re not protesting me, per se. Well, I suppose they are in a way. They’re really protesting what I’m doing.”

  “Cutting down the rainforest? Dropping trash into the oceans? Eating little children?”

  He clasped his chest with his free hand. “It hurts to see how little you think of me.”

  I laughed. “Go on. What did you do that is worth protesting?”

  He paused, unable to meet my gaze. He obviously didn’t want to say.

  “Don’t worry,” I said lightly. “I can’t possibly think any worse of you.”

  He snorted. “That’s one small mercy.”

  I nudged him. “Come on, Drake. I’m supposed to be your wife. If you can’t talk to me, who can you talk to?”

  He let out a huff. “Fine. I set up and funded a country-wide charity for women who were raped and need emergency abortions.”

  It was like he’d slapped me.

  I couldn’t even speak. Had I completely misjudged him? Could this beast actually have some good in him? Did he possess warmth underneath his cold façade?

  I finally found my voice. “That’s a wonderful thing you did.”

  He turned his head to look out the window. “Not everyone thinks so.”

  I stared at his profile, his jaw twitching as he ground his teeth together. His bad reputation hurt him, despite what he told himself.

  I weighed up the many sides of this man that I’d seen these last few days. He refused to let me call my father. But he looked at me sometimes like I was the very moon in the sky. He was rude, crass, and a terrible workaholic. But he was generous and he actually did things to make this world a better place.

  I got this inexplicable urge to brush aside the hair that had fallen over his forehead. It was like he was two different men. Which one was the truth? Who are you really, Drake Blackwell?

  21

  ____________

  Noriko

  I stared around the cavernous gallery, stark walls painted white to showcase each piece. There were dozens of other people here but we all had our space. “Why are we here, exactly?”

  Drake handed me a flute of champagne. “To support the charity.” He mentioned earlier that twenty percent of the proceeds of this auction would go to fund heart health research. “Mostly because I want to buy some art.”

  I fought not to roll my eyes. “I was just thinking that the walls at home are so bare.”

  Drake let out a laugh. Two for two tonight. I was on a roll. “Come and help me spend my money, dear wife.” He placed the tips of his fingers on my bare back and led me through the gallery, pointing out the paintings for auction. I began to relax, enjoying his hypnotic voice as he made his commentary on each piece.

  Finally, he directed me to a large painting of lilies on a lake. “And this is a—”

  “A Monet.” I gasped. “Oh my God. It’s a real Monet.”

  He nodded. “One of his best works, in my opinion. Unfortunately, this painting is only on loan to the gallery and not actually for sale.”

  I let out a sigh as I took in the smudges of color and dappled light. There was nothing like seeing a Monet in person. It looked like the artist had figured out how to mix sunlight into his paints and danced it across the canvas.

  I felt Drake’s eyes on me. “You like it?”

  “I love Monet’s work. Especially the pieces he painted when he was living in Giverny. See,” I pointed, “how he focuses on light and color as opposed to shape and lines.”

  “It truly is exquisite.”

  I glanced over to him, only to find that he was looking at me. I dropped my arm and folded my hands together in front of me. “You’re not looking.”

  “Yes, I am. Perhaps harder than ever.”

  I felt myself flushing under his gaze.

  “You know about art,” he said. “It’s refreshing.”

  I mock gasped. “Why, husband, is that actually a compliment?”

  He laughed again, the crinkle around his eyes endearing. “Don’t get used to them.”

  “You know a lot about art as well.”

  “I’d like to think I’m a connoisseur of beautiful things.” The way he was looking at me made me feel like he’d given me another compliment. I blushed and look away. “Did you study art in Japan?” he asked.

  “No.”

  Drake tilted his head. “But that’s what you wanted to do.”

  I nodded, sighing. “I enrolled in international business instead.”

  “Why?”

  I shrugged.

  “I see,” he said solemnly.

  “Do you?”

  “As the eldest, especially without any brothers, you are expected to be responsible for your family.”

  I gaped at him. “I didn’t say that.”

  “You didn’t have to.” He nodded across the room to someone he must have recognized. “I do business in Japan often, Noriko. I understand the pressures that must have been on you.”

  It wasn’t often I found myself so…easily read. Even stranger, that this rude, cold, arrogant man had been able to do it.

  “As my wife, you do not need to do anything you don’t want anymore,” he said, startling me with his accented Japanese, still managing to make it sound like a melody from his lips.

  “You speak Japanese?” I replied. To use my native tongue felt like a gift.

  “Only enough to butcher it thoroughly,” he said with a smile.

  I smiled back. “I think you speak very well.”

  “You’re just being kind. Tell me,” he said, switching back to English, “why do you love Monet so much?”

  I chewed on my lip, wondering how much I should reveal. “I like to think that he can teach us a lot of life through how he views his art.”

  Drake’s stare grew even more intense, like he was studying me. “What, exactly, do you mean by that?”

  “Well,” I turned to face the painting, feeling like if I held his gaze any longer I might forget how to breathe. “You know he painted the same scenes over and over again, including this one, during different times of day and different seasons. He never got bored of the same scene, because he understood that the difference can be appreciated in even the slightest change of light. He understood that we don’t always need more or new, but to view the same thing with new eyes.”

  Drake was silent for a pause. “How…insightful.”

  My eyes couldn’t help but draw to him again. He seemed to be searching my face, looking harder than anyone ever has before. I felt naked, raw. Like I had unwrapped my soul and laid it out for him. Before I could change the subject, before I could tear my eyes away, he spoke. “When I’m stuck in a problem,” he said, “I like to remember Monet.”

  I frowned. “How so?”

  He walked behind me and placed his hands around my hips. I sucked in a breath as heat radiated through my body from where he touched me.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Just…go with it.” After a pause, he added, “Please?”

  He actually asked for once. I nodded. I let him gently push me forward until I was inches away from the painting. He stepped in close behind me until his front was flush against my back and his hands slid around my waist.

  Oh God, he was so close. So everywhere. His heat, his scent, his presence like fire.

  His touch was causing all sorts of strange twists and sparks in my body. What was happening to me?

  “What do yo
u see?” he whispered in my ear. Heat cascaded down my body, pooling into a hot cauldron between my legs. My knees trembled. I was glad he was holding me up.

  Focus, Noriko.

  I took in a shaky breath. “I see…” thick splotches of paint, violent slashes of color, smears, ridges, swipes, dabs. I sucked in a breath as his lips grazed my neck. “Chaos.”

  Drake lifted me suddenly like I weighed nothing, my heels rising up off the floor. I let out a small yelp and struggled, even as a part of me reveled at being so helpless in his thick arms, thrilled at his obvious strength. He strode back, back, back…until—

  “And now?”

  I saw…the whole picture.

  Drake set me down gently. I could feel the eyes of the patrons around us, some in amusement, others in disapproval. For the first time in my life, I didn’t care what anyone else thought.

  I slowly turned to face him, my soul light and aching from this realization. Almost toe to toe, I came up to his lips in these heels. I had to tilt my head to look at him. He seemed more stunning than the last time I looked at him. So beautiful it was almost inhuman. “That’s brilliant,” I said. You’re brilliant.

  Who would have thought that this cold, workaholic bastard could be such a deep thinker. And to love art… Something squeezed in my chest.

  His hand came up, his fingers brushing my cheekbones. That one touch had me leaning into his palm. He flinched and his gaze darted to his hand as if he only just realized what he was doing. “You…um, you had an eyelash.”

  “Sure.” I tilted up my chin, offering him…I wasn’t sure what.

  His fingers grew surer, sliding around to the back of my neck. I held my breath as his eyes dropped to my lips. He leaned in and—

  “Drake.” A male voice caused us to jolt apart.

  A rush of heat rose to my cheeks. If we hadn’t been interrupted… My stomach twisted up in knots.

  Underneath it, there was a cold trickle of relief.

  Don’t get too close to your husband, Noriko. You’re only his wife for one year.

  22

  ____________

  Drake

  “Drake.” My name broke through my haze.

  Noriko jumped back, her cheeks coloring pink. I had been about to lunge for her, her dark eyes, sparkling with life and intelligence, drawing me in. As did her perfect pink mouth like a soft strawberry. I had a feeling that once I tasted her, I was going to end up dragging her back to the house and doing every single dirty thing to her body I’d wanted to do since I set my eyes on her.

  Remember your promise to Loretta. You have to give Noriko until tomorrow night to settle in before you attack her.

  Loretta would have my balls on a plate if I broke my promise. Then she’d serve them to me for dinner. Maybe it was a blessing that I was interrupted.

  The periphery around my gaze opened up and the rest of the world rushed in. I tore my eyes away from my wife and turned to face the intruder. My hackles rose when I saw the smug bastard standing in front of me.

  “Jared Wright,” I said, biting back my hatred. In so many ways he was my antithesis. Blonde with pale blue eyes, he was an all-American jock if I ever saw one. Even in college he never failed to rub his perfect family and their perfect business in my face.

  He was a good-looking fellow, I supposed. If you were into smarmy, arrogant assholes.

  Did Noriko think so?

  My eyes darted back to her. She was looking at this newcomer with open eyes and a smile on her face. The logical part of my brain reasoned that of course she’s smiling, she assumed Jared was my friend. She was being a good wife. The rest of me wanted to kiss that smile off her face. To kiss her so hard that she’d never have smiles for anyone but me.

  “Drake Blackwell,” Wright said in the same biting tone as mine.

  I turned back to Wright, noting how I instinctively moved forward to place myself slightly between him and Noriko. “You have the timing and grace of a plague. Swift, sudden and completely unwanted.”

  Wright laughed, amusement twinkling in his eyes, my insult rolling off him. “Guilty as charged. I couldn’t go a single second longer without meeting this ravishing angel you’ve somehow managed to convince to come here with you tonight.” He turned to Noriko. “Tell me the truth. How much is he paying you?” He laughed out loud at his own lame joke.

  I flinched as his words hit home. There was too much truth in what he just said. Noriko was only here because I paid her to be. She was here because she needed money to save her father. Not because she wanted to be. If she looked like she wanted me to kiss her earlier, it was because I was paying her to.

  Noriko recovered faster than I did. Her smile broadened but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You are a funny man. Did the gallery hire you to entertain us?”

  I caught a flash of insult on Wright’s face. He didn’t like being mistaken for the help. It disappeared behind a charming smile. “Good heavens, you mustn’t be from around here if you don’t know who I am. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Jared Henry Wright.”

  I bit back a growl. Wright was flirting with her.

  “Noriko.” She held out a slender wrist.

  He took her hand. Bending, he put his lips to the back of her hand.

  He had his lips on my wife.

  My blood sizzled. Outwardly I remained calm.

  Jared didn’t pull away. In fact, he sniffed her. He sniffed her. “My,” he said, looking up at her through his lashes, “that’s an intoxicating perfume you’re wearing.”

  “Alright, that’s enough.” I snatched Noriko’s hand away from his mouth and pulled her firmly to my side, wrapping my left arm around her shoulders. My right hand gripped into a fisted ball by my side.

  Wright chuckled as he straightened. “Very touchy, Drake. You’ve never been this way around any woman before.”

  “This isn’t any woman,” I spat out between my teeth, “this is my wife.”

  His eyes widened. He glanced between Noriko and me, a gleam in his eye. I wished to hell I’d said nothing. “So the rumors are true,” he said. “America’s most wanted bachelor is finally tied down.”

  “America’s most wanted bachelor?” Noriko asked, all innocence.

  “Now I know you’re not from around here,” Wright’s eyes narrowed. “Japan?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you two meet?”

  Shit. My mind drew a blank. Noriko and I hadn’t worked out a “story” for our arranged marriage. We hadn’t done anything except argue until tonight.

  “Darling, there you are,” a female voice called.

  I was grateful for the reprieve. Until I saw who it was.

  Fuck. My. Life.

  Kristie, the one who thought Jackson Pollock was an actor, strutted up to Wright and faced me. As always, her blonde hair was blown out around her face. Her clingy black dress plunged so low I could practically see her belly button. She was the very last woman I dated before Noriko.

  “Drake,” she said, an edge to her tone, her chin held high. She slid her arm through Wright’s elbow and pressed to his side. Trust her to jump straight into the next billionaire’s bed.

  I nodded but I didn’t offer my hand. “Nice to see you again, Kristie.”

  She managed to make her smile look like a scowl. “I wish I could say the same for you.”

  Noriko gasped beside me. Japanese culture was endlessly polite, this catty game we played here would be totally foreign to her. I ignored Kristie and turned to address Wright. “Sniffing around my leftovers, I see.”

  Kristie bristled. I paid her no notice. I had been prepared to be pleasant with her before she threw the first blow.

  Noriko tensed at my side. Ah, shit. If only I’d had time to warn her that she’d be facing my ex tonight.

  Wright merely laughed, a sly look in his eye. “Lucky me, you always manage to piss off your ex-lovers. Which makes it so easy for me to swoop in and take your secrets. How did you think I found out that you were working the
Mercer deal?”

  I bristled. The bastard.

  I turned to Kristie, ready to berate her for selling me out. She didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. She was glaring at Noriko. “And who is this?”

  “Get this, Kristie,” Wright chuckled as if he was gearing up to tell a joke, “she is Drake’s new wife.”

  Kristie’s eyes almost popped out of her head. “You’re married?”

  I sighed. Here we go. “Yes.”

  Her eyes searched Noriko’s hands and found…the ring. A simple white gold wedding band. I never bought Noriko an engagement ring.

  Kristie’s eyes narrowed, fixing on Noriko. “When did you get married? When did you even meet?” Her eyes swung to me, I could see the calculations going off in her head. It’d only been six weeks since I told her I didn’t think it was going to work. I groaned internally. I could see exactly where her mind was going. “You cheated on me?” she practically shrieked.

  I could feel Noriko’s eyes on me, questioning, wondering.

  Dear God, can this night get any worse?

  No, wait, don’t answer that.

  “Excuse me?” A chirpy voice said. It belonged to a rather keen-looking woman, thick red hair tied back in a ponytail, dressed well in a slightly crinkled black pantsuit. I could tell by the off-the-rack fit that she wasn’t a guest. “Can I take your picture? It’s for the gallery press release.” She lifted a huge black camera.

  Goddamn it.

  “Yes,” Wright said.

  “No,” I growled out at the same time.

  “Come on, Drake.” Wright said with a jovial laugh. He leaned into the photographer. “Forgive him. He gets grumpy when he hasn’t taken his meds.”

  Before I could protest further he planted himself on Noriko’s other side, between her and Kristie, sliding an arm around Noriko’s waist.

  “Get your hands off my wife.”

  “It’s for the press, Drake. Relax.”

  “It’s okay, Drake,” Noriko said.

  “Smile!” A flash went off in the corner of my eyes. “Um, maybe we can do that one again. Mr. Blackwell, can you face the camera, please?”