Page 46 of Marrying the Enemy

“She already does.”

“Ouch.” She scowled at him.

He shrugged off his blunt words. “My father was extremely good at spreading his poison. She always sided with him, feeding into it. It was the only way she could be close to him. That led her to believe she had some influence or control over the family and WBE, but it was an illusion even before Dad died. My marriage forces her to accept that. She won’t take it out on you, though. I won’t allow it.”

Eve studied his dispassionate expression, thinking of his mother who had been near tears when she had zipped Eve’s gown.

“This gives me so much hope, Eve,” Kathleen had said with a misty smile. “He’s always been so opaque to me. He learned to keep to himself out of self-defense. I did the same, not realizing I was losing him until he was already gone. But this... I mean it when I say I want the absolute best for both of you.”

“What was your childhood like?” Eve asked him. “Did you spend most of your time with your mother or your father?”

A subtle stiffness came over him, one that made her think he was going to deflect without answering the question.

“Neither.” His offhand tone sounded forced. “Dad married Ingrid very quickly after his divorce from Mom. Ingrid didn’t like me underfoot, but she felt my father’s influence was threatened if I spent too much time with Mom so I mostly lived at boarding school.”

“Really? How old were you?” She frowned.

“School age.” He shrugged. “Seven?”

“That’s young to be away from home. Was the school in New York or...?”

“New York at first, then Eton so I can ‘talk like this.’” He put on a somber British accent. He leaned to set his phone aside and plumped the pillow behind him. “I didn’t mind. Being away was less drama and I made social connections that serve me to this day. I came back to America for high school, Andover, and spent summers abroad. Dad would send me to whichever property would teach me a new language and something about the business. Paris, Madrid, Athens, Tokyo.”

It sounded very alienating and lonely. Her brothers might have called her a pest, but she hadn’t been unwanted. She’d always known she was loved.

“You must have spent time in Sydney?” she joked lightly. “I heard you say, ‘Crikey, mate’ the day we were rescued. I was so grateful you could make our plight understood to the locals.”

His mouth twitched. “You’ve missed a career in stand-up.”

“There’s still time.” She rolled away, then pushed her pillows to the headboard. As she sat up beside him, she pulled the sheet across her naked breasts. “Tell me more about your relationship with Ingrid. Why didn’t she want you around?”

“Because I wasn’t hers,” he said as though it was obvious. “That’s why I have five sisters. She was trying to produce a contender for the throne.”

“Are any of them not?”

He snapped his head around to give her a frosty look.

“You were the one who gets offended at being called a sexist.”

“None want it,” he clarified. “Freda is a lawyer. I told you about her. Astrid and our middle sister married young, likely to get out from Dad and Ingrid’s thumbs, though they’ll deny that. They’re dedicated homemakers. The youngest is an artist. Glassblowing, mostly. She’s very talented. My second youngest is brilliant in some ways and struggles in others. She works directly for me, remotely from her apartment. She analyzes data and does other nerdy things that no one else will touch, but she thrives on it.”

“And the nephew who could be your successor?”

“Zeke. Freda’s son. He’s twelve, very focused and bright. A natural leader. To be honest, Ingrid had her heart set on his ascension, believing she put in enough years with my father that she has as much right to WBE as anyone else.”

“That tells me exactly how she’ll react to me and any children we might produce.”

Ingrid would channel her late husband’s antipathy against a Visconti, but she would also see a threat to the tentacles she had already wrapped around the Blackwood fortune.

Judging from the radio silence from Eve’s father, Romeo didn’t seem to be coming around, either.

“What have we done, Dom? Did we burn down our lives for the sake of a few orgasms?”

“They’re very good orgasms, Evie.” He floated a caress down her arm and tingles followed like stardust.

“I’m being serious. How is this marriage supposed to build bridges? Did you marry me just to throw me in your stepmother’s face?” she asked with a twinge of suspicion.

“You know why I married you.” He dropped his hand away.

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