Page 26 of The Unwanted Wife

"How about if I ask Summer, on your behalf? Her husband Sinclair is loaded, and—" Zoey begins to say, but I shake my head.

"I’m not going to mix money into the equation with friendship. It’s the fastest way to mess up relationships. Everybody knows that."

"But you’re mixing money into the most important relationship of your life."

She’s right. "Difference is, I’m going into this association as a transactional one. So, the rules of engagement are clear upfront.

"Hmmm, I don’t agree, but I can see your mind is made up." She purses her lips. "Besides, people have married for less. History is littered with arranged marriages between kings and princesses, not to mention all of the romances I’ve edited. Marriages of convenience have blossomed into love affairs, which have stood the test of time and re-written the future. So—" She raises a shoulder.

"There is one complication—" I shuffle my feet.

"Only one?" Her tone is amused.

I scoff. "Okay, more than one. But the biggest of them all is that he’s my brother's best friend."

Her jaw drops. "You knew him before he came to you with this proposition?"

"It’s why he came to me with this proposition."

Her brow clears. "O-k-a-y, some of it is beginning to make sense now. I wondered how this man found you. And why he walked in off the street and asked you to marry him."

"He also stands to gain from this. His grandfather wants him to get married. Once he ties the knot, he’ll be confirmed as the CEO of his company."

"Aha. So both of you benefit from the match."

"You can say that."

"And you’ve met before, so it’s not like you two are complete strangers."

"He may as well be." I look away, then back at her.

"Skylar?" She slaps her palms on her hips. "What are you not telling me?"

"Nothing," I lie. No way can I tell her just how much his kiss affected me on my eighteenth birthday, how I convinced myself I was building it up in my head, but meeting him again, I realized I hadn’t. How his very proximity seems to turn my brain cells to mush and my bones to jelly. How being in his presence makes me want to forget every single rational thought and throw myself at him. My hormones begin to twerk like they're contestants on So You Think You Can Dance when he’s around. I’m worried that once I marry him and spend more time with him, I’ll be helpless to his charms and ready to do whatever he wants. Which may not be so bad. Argh, don’t think that.

She continues to peer into my face, then sniffs. "So, you have a thing for your brother’s best friend?"

"I don’t have a thing for him."

She stares at me.

I redden, then look away and busy myself by beginning to measure out the flour for my next experimental dessert.

"Then why are you blushing?"

I roll my eyes. "Okay, I have 'something' for him. And not only because he happens to be very good-looking, but also because I’ve heard my brother speak so highly of him. He came home a couple of times when I was a kid, and I developed a huge crush on him. Not that he knew. Then, I met him when I was eighteen and—" I firm my lips.

"—and?"

"Nothing." I school all emotion from my features. "I didn’t see him again until he prowled into my shop with this proposition."

"Why don’t we talk with Grace and Harper? Perhaps they’ll have more ideas to offer."

"I don’t want to bother them, honestly."

She looks like she’s about to protest, then shakes her head. "You are going to tell them you’re getting married, right?"

"Of course I am. I’m going to message them by the end of the day, and?—"

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