MARRIAGE-BARGAIN

chapter 19

ALEXA POV

Alexa wasn't about to wait for his tidy explanations. She bet a long list of excuses hovered on the tip of his tongue. He'd been mad and lost

control. Sleep deprivation caused him to reach for her and damn the consequences. Now the police had doused him with a jolt of cold water,

he'd gone over the idea and decided it would not be in their best interests to sleep with each other. After all, it was in the contract. After all,

this was a business marriage.

After all, this wasn't real.

The sexual fog drifted away and left her with a dull, nagging pain. She looked upon the policeman as Fate—her Earth Mother finally

stepping in to lend a helping hand.

"Alexa—"

"No." She put up one hand and Nick went quiet, waiting. Alexa knew, right then and there, she had very dangerous emotions for Nicholas

Ryan. Messy, real life feelings. She took the truth like a dose of bitter medicine and met the fact head on. If she slept with him, things would

turn for her, and remain the same for him. She'd fall in love, and he'd have a good time. She'd be broken-hearted at the end of a year, and

he'd walk away without a glance back. Another piece of information hit her like a knockout to the head.

If he asked, she'd go to bed with him.

She practically shuddered with shame. She had no control over her hormones when he touched her. She couldn't even promise she'd never

consider the opportunity in the future. But she knew one thing—the only way she'd go to bed with her husband was if he begged. She wanted

him mad for her, hot and explosive and so horny just a touch would push him over the edge. Like tonight. But she wanted no more excuses

of temper, or sleeplessness, or alcohol. She wanted straight out, fabulous, passionate sex with his head clear and his eyes on her. Not

thinking about Gabriella. And not thinking about an end to celibacy.

She needed him to want only her.

That was the last proverbial nail in her coffin. Because tonight, she still wasn't convinced he wanted his wife in his bed.

Dully, she congratulated herself on being as logical as Nick. If she couldn't sleep with him, she'd have to keep pushing him away and walk

the line between friendship and desire. She was tired of fighting. So, she chose honesty with a twist. Just like a hot toddy—the medicine went

down better with a little bit of liquor.

"Nick, I'm sorry." She pulled herself to full height and wrapped herself in an invisible cloud of dignity. "I was wrong to hide those dogs

from you. I'll get everything cleaned up and drive them back to the shelter in the morning. If they need me again, I'll tell you and I'm sure we can work it out."

"Alexa—"

She continued in a rush. "And about what happened here. It's okay. I got caught up in the moment like you, and I've heard anger usually

turns to passion, and let's face it, we're both sexually frustrated. These episodes are bound to happen. And I don't want to talk about it—I'm

sick of talking this business relationship to death. It's just about money so we need to stick to the contract. Okay?"

...

NICK POV

Nick struggled for composure at his wife's speech. The itch between his shoulder blades warned him she hid a lot more than she let on. He

knew this moment could turn on a quarter and not a dime if he took one step away from his logically plotted course.

He pushed the nagging thought away and looked at her. As the days passed, he realized she became more beautiful to him. Light

shimmered from her eyes, and smile, and her very heart. Their dialogues pushed open doors he thought had been locked, but the result was

a strange flow of emotion he didn't feel comfortable with—and never would. She was a woman who needed a secure relationship. Hell, she

was a woman who deserved it. He could only give her sex and friendship. Not love.

He'd made his decision years ago. The cost was too great.

So, Nick watched the fragile thread snap between them again with a mixture of emotions and too much damn regret.

He forced a nod and a slight smile. "Apology and explanation accepted. No more analyzing."

She smiled back but her eyes remained distant. "Good. Why don't you go upstairs while I clean up?"

"I'll help."

"I'd rather do it myself."

He moved toward the stairs and studied the hound dog crouched in the corner. A long, yellow body. Ugly face. Canine eyes echoed his

own past—lots of pain and no one to count on. Matted fur matched a long tail, hanging limply to one side. Definitely a loner, like an older kid

in an orphanage flung amidst cute, little babies. Probably caught trying to steal some food. Probably no family or kids or connections. The

dog stood quietly at the foot of the stairs and watched him climb.

Nick remembered the summer he'd found an old mutt in the woods. The dog was starved, with clumpy fur and hopeless eyes. Nick

dragged him home and plied him with food and water. Eventually he nursed him back to health and made a friend.

He'd managed to hide him from his mother for a while since the house was so big, and the housekeeper agreed to keep the secret. Then

one day he arrived home from school and went looking for him and noticed his father was back from a trip to the Cayman Islands. He knew

immediately his dog was not there. When he confronted his father, Jed Ryan laughed and gave him a rough push. "No losers in this house,

buddy. Maybe if you got a real dog like a German Shepherd. That mutt was good for nothing and actually crapped in the house. I got rid of

it."

Jed Ryan had walked away, and Nick remembered the lesson again. Never get attached. He'd thought about that dog every day for years,

then finally locked it away where the thought could never bother him again.

Until now.

For the second time that night, Nick hesitated, wanting to take a chance on something but too afraid of the consequences. His heart hitched

with longing, unrest, confusion. Then he turned his back on his wife and the ugly dog and shut the door behind him.