Arranged(13)

Our gazes clashed. My heart stuttered in my chest, and he smiled like he was happy to see me.

It was a disarming sight, to say the least.

I heard the quick shutter of multiple professional cameras going off.

Ah, there it was. There was no reason to set a stage without an audience.

I smiled back.

He started toward me, and I wondered if I was supposed to meet him halfway. I was too disarmed and he moved too quickly, so the decision was taken out of my hands.

It was all I could do to devour as many details of him as I could before he was on me.

I hadn’t seen anything but pictures of him since the wedding. I’d almost forgotten he was even better looking in person. More gorgeous than my biased memories had allowed me to hold onto. More refined and polished than any model in the room.

More memorable and overwhelming. He was dressed in a dark three-piece suit and he was bigger than I remembered. Even in a room full of tall divas his stature demanded every eye.

His dark hair was pulled back from his face. It brought out his stark, perfect bone structure. Gorgeous like his mama’s. Works of art, that family. And his eyes. God, his eyes. Pale gray set against his deep olive skin, with enough intensity in them to make my knees go weak.

He had something in his hand, but I barely had time to note it before he’d wrapped his free arm around my shoulder to pull me in for a hug.

“Hello, Mrs. Castelo,” he said gruffly.

I looked up at him. “Hello, Mr. Castelo.”

I barely got the words out before he bent, putting his lips to mine. He laid one on me.

I knew it was a perfunctory, for the cameras kiss. A kiss from the movies.

I fell for it anyway.

One of his arms was lightly wrapped around my back, his hand gripping my waist. His other hand reached up to lightly cup the back of my head. He dipped me a little. His lips were every bit as soft as I remembered. It lasted only a minute, but I was gripping his lapels and forgetting where we were long before that.

He pulled away faster than I wanted him to, straightening, his calm eyes studying my face.

He didn’t look like he’d been up to anything at all.

I had to school my face back into composure, make my slack mouth shut, and blink my eyes out of their daze. It took some effort.

“I see you’re doing quite well,” he said with utter composure. “I brought you something.” He placed a large velvet box into my hands.

I didn’t respond for a long moment, just staring at the gift that was obviously jewelry. “What’s this?” I asked.

“A gift for my beautiful bride. Open it.”

“Open it here?” I asked, and instantly wanted to snatch the words back. Of course here. He was clearly staging a moment for the tabloids.

“Yes.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, but I was sure it would photograph just fine all the same. He knew what he was doing. He’d been raised in a beautiful, rich, famous family. Photogenic didn’t begin to cover it. Live-action-video-genic more like.

I turned my attention to my gift. I had to mentally brace myself to give the right reaction for the cameras.

This is just another modeling job, I told myself as I opened the box. Just gush like you’re doing an ad for Tiffany’s. Hell, maybe I’d land something with them next. This could be my audition.

Laid out inside was a dazzling diamond and yellow stone-studded choker, earrings, and bracelet.

I knew this jewelry. It was his mother’s topaz collection. It was worth a small fortune to the tune of one point two million dollars.

It was not a gift but a loan. I knew this because our prenup was quite detailed about such things. If or when we divorced, I would not be keeping any of the family jewelry, regardless of how publicly he gifted it to me.

I took all of this in in mere seconds, and then let out the appropriate response, gasping loudly, my free hand flying to my throat. My excited eyes flew up to his, and I smiled with as much fake joy as I could muster. “Oh my God, Calder! They’re beautiful. You shouldn’t have.”

“Of course I should have,” he said with a charming smile. His eyes were on me, but I knew our audience had his full attention. I was a less significant accessory to him than this jewelry, though at least I could reassure myself that after our wedding night I was worth considerably more. “It’s our one month anniversary. Didn’t you realize?”

I had not. Was that why he was taking me out? It must’ve been, but I couldn’t imagine him flying into town just for that. Not after a month of no contact.

I recovered from my surprise quickly. “Of course!” I said with loud enthusiasm. “How could I ever forget such a monumental milestone?”

He smiled, and it was a bit crooked, only one corner of his mouth quirking up. It was less perfect than his usual straight, polished, fraudulent smile.

I’d genuinely amused him with that over the top bit of nonsense, I realized.

Why did that make my chest warm with pleasure?

“On every one month anniversary I’m going to drape you in new jewels, wife.”

“You spoil me, husband.”

“Happily.”

When it came to backstage model antics, I’d always been one of the quiet ones. I didn’t cause a lot of drama, or make a lot of waves. I tended to keep to myself. I saw it as a job that I wanted to retain, so I tried to be professional, always. I was friendly with the girls who weren’t terrible, though I’d never made any close friends in the business. I had too hard of a time opening up and being vulnerable to let anyone close, so I tended to come across a touch distant or even cold. It was a defense mechanism, but it had never won me any popularity contests.