Page 23 of Rafa's Convenient Wife

“Sh!” Rafael looked around, suddenly terrified his mother might be lurking nearby. “What we did or didn’t do after the wedding is none of your business.”

“Oh. My. God.” Lola enunciated each word in the most dramatic way. “Wow. You suddenly pushing this arranged marriage makes so much sense. You couldn’t seal the deal six years ago, and now you’ve found a way to force her hand.”

“That is not what is happening! I would never—! We’re getting married to protect Jasper from Beverly.”

“Uh-huh,” she mocked. “You keep telling yourself that. You might be able to lie to everyone else, but lying to yourself? Good luck with that, Rafael!” She stole Jasper from his arms and cuddled their nephew close. She frowned and clicked her teeth in frustration. “Did you take him outside without a hat? Without any shade? He’s so warm!”

“I didn’t know!” He defensively replied. “Babies don’t come with manuals. I’m doing my best.”

“Your best isn’t good enough.” Lola kissed Jasper’s little head. “Come on, my sleepy baby boo. Let’s get you into a nice, cool room so you can recover from the sunstroke your uncle tried to give you.”

“Lola!” he harshly scolded. “That’s just mean!”

She shrugged and walked away with their nephew still sleeping in her arms. Irritated, he stormed to the office he used when at home. Safe inside, he closed the door behind him and dropped into one of the well-worn leather chairs by the window. He rubbed his throbbing temples as Lola and Sky’s voices rattled around in his aching head.

Lola was right about all of it. He did feel guilty, and it did make him act coldly and cruelly toward Sky. He was a rotten hypocrite and an asshole.

And now Sky is going to be married to me and miserable for the rest of her life.

Or, at least, for the duration of the marriage.

He glanced at the paperwork sitting on his desk. The family’s attorney had sent over a stack of legal forms that needed hisattention. The word prenuptial had figured heavily in the email and voicemail. If it had been any other situation, any other woman, he would have insisted on doing things correctly.

But this was Sky, and she had just lost her sister and Jaime and inherited all the responsibilities of motherhood.

If he asked for a divorce or annulment, she would give it to him without question. She wouldn’t try to take the business or ruin him financially. That wasn’t in her nature, no matter how angry he might make her.

He retrieved his phone from the pocket of his jeans and opened the last message he’d shared with his attorney.

No prenup. There’s not enough time for Sky to hire an attorney and negotiate. We’ll discuss a postnup.

After sending the message, he slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked to his desk. He picked up the paperwork and thumbed through it. There were so many clauses, many of them outrageous. The idea of putting Sky on an allowance or setting a minimum number of sexual encounters in a calendar year made him feel sick. The more egregious clauses were labeled as extreme in the margins of the papers, and he was disgusted that anyone would even consider putting them in there in the first place.

There was a knock at his office door, and he called, “Come in.”

When Sky stepped through the door, he was surprised. She must have seen it on his face because she asked, “Are you expecting someone else?”

“No.” He casually dropped the paperwork into the top drawer of his desk and closed it. Not having a prenup wasn’t the mostpractical or responsible decision, but it was the right one. “Did you want to talk about something?”

“I wanted to talk about us. About the marriage,” she clarified, leaning back against the closed door. She seemed so stiff, and his chest tightened at her discomfort in his presence. “About kids and all that stuff.”

“Sky,” he walked around the desk, “we don’t have to talk about any of that. I don’t expect kids. I shouldn’t have even brought that up.”

“No, you should have.” She worked up the courage to leave the safety of the door. “You’re right. We do need to think about the future.”

Carefully, he asked, “What does that mean to you? Or, rather, what does the future look like to you?”

“I don’t know,” she said with a tired sigh before dropping into the leather chair he had been sitting in earlier. “A few days ago, before Jaime and Maddie left on their trip, I was planning to go on vacation to Greece and maybe work on a book or look at going to college. Now, my sister is dead, and I’m supposed to raise my nephew.”

“A book?” Rafael asked, surprised by that revelation. “I didn’t know you were writing.”

“I have been for a long time. I’m not sure I’m good, but I enjoy it.”

“I’m sure you’re very good at it,” he insisted, wanting to build her up and encourage her confidence. “I would like to read whatever you’ve written—if you’ll let me.”

Obviously shy, she shook her head. “It’s just silly mystery stuff. You wouldn’t like it.”

“I like mysteries. My grandfather loved them. There are shelves stuffed with mysteries in the library—Spanish and English versions.The Hardy Boys.Nancy Drew.Poirot.Marple. I read all of those as a kid. I’m more into thrillers thesedays, but I always read the latestMiss Fortuneseries when Mama is done with her copy.”

---