Page 32 of Husband for the Holidays

“What am I supposed to do? Let her think it’s real for a year, then yank the rug? I told you I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Tempted as I am to force Antoine to foot the bill on an extravagant wedding that winds up canceled, we’re not waiting a year.” He glanced at his phone as it pinged, then touched the driver’s shoulder.

“Sir?” The driver removed his ear bud.

“The jeweler has agreed to come to us. You can drop us at our hotel.”

“Very good, sir.” He screwed the bud back into his ear and made the turn to the Promenade des Anglais.

“What jeweler?” Eloise hissed.

“The one providing your ring. Wear anything your mother gives you if it makes you happy, but you’ll wear my ring at that party tomorrow.”

“For Antoine’s sake? You’re taking this too far,” she protested. “I’m glad you put Edoardo on the run. Thank you for that. Really. But Antoine is not stupid. He knows I have nothing going for me beyond passable looks and presumed fertility. That’s why he offered me to a man who wants a society wife and a vessel for his heir. He thinks it would put Edoardo in his debt.Youdon’t have to settle for someone who is broke, though. Antoine knows that.”

“Thank God you’re here to explain patriarchy to me. I’ve never gotten the hang of it.”

“No, you’re doing it right,” she assured him. “This game of chicken you’ve entered into with Antoine is a classic use of a woman to one-up another man. But I refuse to be part of it. This lie has gone far enough. I can’t mess with my mother like that.”

“Eloise.” He frowned at her. “I’m not sure where the communication has broken down. Do you not realize I’m serious? We’re marrying.”

“What?” Her heart lurched. Maybe she was still asleep in her bed in New York and none of this had happened. She pinched her arm, half expecting to wake up on the subway, cold and hungry and miserable.

She was awake, though. This was real. Her blood was skimming so fast through her arteries her whole body vibrated. Her inner seventeen-year-old wanted to faint with excitement, but she was a sensible adult now. She knew dreams were only dreams. They never came true.

“We can divorce later,” Konstantin added in a throwaway rumble. “If necessary.”

And there it was. The wake-up call. He didn’t really want her. Why would he? That was why Antoine wasn’t taking this seriously. Her stepfather knew as well as anyone that she brought nothing to a marriage.

The car stopped at the curb and the bellman rushed to open her door, giving her the chance to mutter over her shoulder, “Romantic as your proposal is, I’d rather swim back to New York and pick up toys from the gutter.”

Her exit would have been glorious if she didn’t have to go back to the room they shared for her passport and other effects.

Konstantin caught up to her as she stepped into the elevator. His expression was an iron mask as he took her hand before she could touch the button for their floor. Her heart leaped, but he was only forestalling her so he could choose a different button.

“They’ve moved us to a bigger suite.”

“I just want my things,” she said stiffly, pulling her hand free and trying to put space between them in the close confines of the elevator.

When the doors opened, a starlet and her entourage were waiting, everyone gabbling gaily.

Eloise pressed a smile onto her lips and stepped out, still shaking with turbulent emotions.

Konstantin led her to a door that he unlocked before he leaned to push it open, allowing her to precede him into the room.

It was even more beautiful than the one they had shared last night. An abundance of windows offered bright views overlooking the sea. There was a sitting room and inside one of the bedrooms, a young woman was putting away clothes. Bags and bags of them.

“What—?Konstantin.”

“Oh! Shall I come back?” the startled young woman asked in French.

“Oui. Merci.” Eloise was barely hanging on to her fraying temper. As the maid left, she turned on him. “You’re doing exactly what Antoine did. You’re telling me what’s going to happen and assuming I’ll go along with it.”

His head went back. “That’s insulting.”

“AmInot allowed to be insulted? You proposed marriageout of spite.” It was especially hurtful coming from him, the man she’d girlishly dreamed of marrying. “You slapped him in the face with me as the gauntlet. Excuse me while I don’t fawn all over you for treating me like chattel. I’m not a tool or a weapon. I’m not—”

Oh, she was going to cry. This was so humiliating.

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