Page 8 of Whispers of My Skin

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I had little choice but to agree to marry Joel.

It’s not what I planned, but there you go. Life can be such a bitch, can’t it? But at least I manage to minimize the number of times we see each other before the wedding, to reduce the chances of him figuring out my real agenda…

Calculating on my part, I know.

But I need to keep my distance.

I’m afraid of being alone with him.

Not because I’m afraid of him, but of my reaction to him.

I’m so weak where he’s concerned. I’m conflicted because he’s made it clear he won’t settle for a relationship in name only, insisting this has to be a fully consummated marriage. And as much as I long for him, no matter that my body aches out for him, my head must overrule my heart.

Fact—he doesn’t love me anymore.

Fact—I’m going to end up with a broken heart if I let myself fall for him all over again.

Fact—it can only be sex between us, nothing more.

It won’t matter anyway, with what my future holds…

We meet for our first appointment at the bank, to sign the papers granting him full access to all the Redlands accounts.

Before we go in, Joel takes me by surprise when he softly kisses me, and I gasp as a bolt of lightning shoots right through to my core. Joel smirks at my response to just a light touch of his lips on mine. That’s how it always used to be between us, but neither of us is what we once were. I’m certainly not the unburdened young girl I once was. I’ve had to harden up to get through all the shit life has thrown at me.

And yet, when he takes my hand, I still feel his gentle touch everywhere. He’s already invading my soul, shaking up everything I thought I knew. Joel is a powerful force to be reckoned with, so how on earth am I going to keep him at arm’s length to protect my heart?

“Smile, honey,” he whispers. “We’re getting married, don’t forget.” As if I could. But how am I going to cope when I become his wife?

After signing the papers at the bank, we head to the lawyer’s office next for Joel to be legitimized as a representative of my interests, enabling him to negotiate loans and contracts for Redlands.

Which, incidentally, didn’t make my stepfather or my mother any too happy when I informed them about the new order of things. My mother was horrified in particular about my engagement to Joel. But I stood my ground. No one can dispute the fact that he has the necessary experience to run Redlands. They had their chance to help, but they just kept screwing up and making things worse. They’re shocked because they’re not used to me standing up to them, but I point out that I’m legally within my rights since my father left everything to me in his will. I spell it out to them.

My ranch.

My decisions.

Arranging the formal announcement of my engagement to Joel was, to say the least, a pitched battle with my mother, and although there were no guns involved, I’d almost say what transpired was worse.

Eventually, once my mother realized she wasn’t going to change my mind about Joel, she reluctantly offered to host a formal engagement dinner at her house, although she couldn’t help herself, she still had to act like a total bitch by issuing orders about what he should wear.

“I’m assuming you don’t have a decent suit, so I suppose I could get my husband’s tailor to prepare something, although of course, it can’t be custom-made at such short notice. But it’d certainly be better than having you show up in your muddy cowboy boots and threadbare old jeans,” she announced disdainfully, not bothering to conceal the fact that she didn’t consider him a worthy son-in-law for her precious daughter. Tough luck, Mom. Get used to it.

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Joel replied calmly, despite her attitude. “I’ll be sure to take care of my attire.”

I wasn’t sure of Mom and Oscar’s motives in hosting the dinner at their house, when the neutral territory of a restaurant would surely have been better, especially as they invited a select group of their ‘close friends’. Perhaps they were hoping to make Joel feel out of place and inadequate, to embarrass me and prove that he wasn’t our equal in a social setting. But as most of their ‘friends’ were shallow, materialistic and narcissistic, I couldn’t have cared less about what any of them thought. At least the occasion would serve to bring everyone up to speed regarding the new status quo at Redlands. Under new management. Someone who thankfully knows what they’re doing.

When the day of the dreaded dinner arrives, I dutifully put on a beautiful silk turquoise dress to look the part, but everything feels unreal, as if I’m living in an episode of Gossip Girl, San Antonio edition.

As we stand in the formal lounge area clutching our pre-dinner drinks, Felix Jones, one of Oscar’s supercilious friends, approaches us.

“Do remind me, what exactly is it that you do you do for a living? Aren’t you some sort of a cowboy, I believe Oscar mentioned?” Felix comments disparagingly, smirking at Oscar as he joins our little group. Just like my stepfather, this guy is sneering at Joel for his humble roots. But who cares about any of that, because when it comes down to honest values, the man whose arm is possessively circling my waist has much to teach them.

Before answering, Joel pulls himself up to his full height, towering over everyone. And I’m proud of the way my man—yes, for tonight at least, he is most definitely my man—refuses to be intimidated.

“Actually, I’ve been the manager of the Dale Ranch in Bastrop County for the past three years,” he states calmly. “But I’m finishing there next week, because I’m taking over the management of Redlands, my fiancée’s property.”

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