Going...Going...Wed (Wife, Inc. #1)

He frowned, closing the door, tempted to lock her in. "What are you doing on a Saturday?"

"None of your business," she said, striding to the kitchen. "You're going to have to tell him, Alex."

"Not until the papers are signed."

Grabbing the carafe, she paused to look at him. "Can you do that? Legally?"

"My personal life is not part of the contract."

She scoffed, pouring a cup for both of them. "Apparently it's a major factor, if you're willing to go to this extreme."

"It got out of hand, that's all."

"Alexander," she began patiently, bringing the mugs to the breakfast counter and sliding onto the stool. "Me going along to Angus's home as your bride," she enunciated and watched him cringe, "is just the start of your troubles."

He knew that. Too well. He couldn't decide whether this mess was hurting or helping him. The thought of spending two weeks with her in close confines excited and scared him. She was a good woman, with scruples and honor and self-worth. And he knew he had to open up to her, give parts of himself he hadn't shown anyone since his parents died. Madison would accept no less.

"Are you, at least, ready to discuss this, hear my side?" He would tell her only the minimum, he decided. She didn't need to know how much of a fool he'd been with Celeste.

Elbows braced on the counter, Madison stared over the rim of the mug. "I won't change my mind." Then she noticed one thing. Although she'd given back the diamond ring, he still wore his.

* * *

The plane arrived on time, despite the rain out of Savannah.

The first-class flight and the limousine ride to the inn should have eased Madison's misgivings about Alex, but only made her see why women flocked to him. It was the lifestyle. And it wasn't hers. Not that the royal treatment wasn't nice, but it was meaningless to her. And he'd been conducting business the entire flight, fielding phone calls, sending faxes and e-mails from his laptop. He seemed suddenly frantic there for a while, but asking about it only got her an "it's business" response. The man never relaxed, never ceased checking on the progress of this project or that, as if nothing could be done without his final touch. Why did he have all those executives, if he didn't trust them to do their jobs?

He appeared perfectly comfortable with faking a marriage. She thought it was the biggest mistake of her life. Everything in her screamed she would come out the loser, yet once he'd told her about his deathbed promise to his father to regain the toy company, she'd capitulated, softening for him and his story. She wished she didn't understand, but she'd made a similar promise to her mother hours before her death. It's what kept her from living too far from her family in case they needed her, and kept her working for Wife Incorporated and Jasmine Knights to help with the bills. But like her mother's request, his father's was too much to ask of a teenager just learning about himself.

Alex nudged her, and she glanced first at him, then to the staff member standing outside their hotel room door.

The young man flung the door open. "Welcome to River Winds, Mrs. Donahue."

Mrs. Donahue. Oh, Lord. She stepped inside, glancing at the accommodations.

The odds were stacked against her.

Angus had made the reservations, the only ones left in any hotel for miles because of a local festival, they'd discovered. And theirs was a suite. The honeymoon suite.

Okay, she was a big girl. She could handle this. She tossed her purse on the sofa and, ignoring the huge four-poster bed, crossed the living room to open the balcony doors. She inhaled, stepping onto the wooden deck. "Oh, Alex, come look at this!"

The view was breathtaking – the blue lake and lovely homes hemming the shore. The inn was on a hillside, overlooking a street leading to the water, and instantly she felt the tension slip away. Closing her eyes she tipped her face to the warm sun. Okay, this isn't so bad.

"Alexander?"

He didn't respond, and she peered into the suite. He was pacing, the phone to his ear as he tipped the bellman. As soon as the young man left, he shrugged out of his raw-silk sports jacket and slid behind the small desk.

Madison let out a shrill whistle. He winced and looked up.

"Were you born with that stupid thing stuck to your ear?"

He muttered something into the cell phone and disconnected, yet he didn't put it away.

"This isn't going to work." She went out onto the deck.

Alex rushed after her. "It will."

Her back to the view, her elbows braced on the rail, she eyed him. "I know this is a real stretch for you, but we're supposed to be married, newly married. And a husband who faxes before the plane takes off, takes calls during a lobster lunch and ignores his bride—" she enjoyed the little jerk in his shoulders when she clarified that "—will not convince Angus. I'm not sure we did the other night."