Page 10 of A Nine-Month Deal With Her Husband

He wanted to know how she tasted, whether the skin where her neck and jaw met was as soft as it looked. He wanted her hands sliding down his stomach, over his hip, her lips on his jaw, his neck, his hipbone...lower. He wanted to pull her jersey up her body and cover her full breast with his hands, trace her curves, kiss her hip, her lower back, between her legs...

Hewantedher. With a ferocity that rocked him. Women were great, he liked them—they were smart and creative and intuitive—and he enjoyed them in bed and out. But he had never felt the overwhelming need to discover, to explore, as he did with Millie.

Annoyed with himself, Ben took a deep breath and forced himself to think about business. Why was she affecting him like this? What was it about her that made him question his control over his tongue? Women didn’t do this to him, he didn’tallowit.

‘So, why are you in Reykjavik, Millie? On the phone you said you needed to talk...what about?’

Ben noticed the tension in her neck and how her spine straightened. A knot formed in his stomach and he knew, without her needing to say anything, what she was about to say.

He’d been expecting this conversation for years. ‘You want a divorce, don’t you?’ he stated.

Her eyes slammed into his. ‘How did you know?’

‘It wasn’t hard to work out, Millie. You’ve never asked for a face-to-face meeting before, we always correspond via email. There is only one thing you could want from me that would require a face-to-face meeting and that’s a request to end our marriage.’

She nodded before slowly placing her glass on the coffee table. He noticed her trembling fingers. ‘It’s been a long time, Ben, and I think it’s time.’

‘I’m perfectly happy with the way things are,’ he told her.

‘Don’t you want...’ she hesitated ‘...more?’

‘More what?’

‘More than a convenient marriage! What about being in a loving relationship, having kids, establishing a family?’

He had no intention of doing any of the above. He linked his hands across his stomach and wished they were on her. ‘I’ve never wanted to get married—’

Okay, that was a lie, he had wanted to once, but he’d learned the hard way that the people you loved could hurt you the most. He wouldn’t love again. It was very simple.

‘I have affairs, but I don’t get involved. I have never had the desire to put a ring on anybody else’s finger.’

Not quite a lie, but not quite the truth either.

A marriage of convenience to Millie suited him perfectly. They hadn’t put any restrictions on what they could do or who they could be with. They were both free to take lovers and had done so. They didn’t report to each other or even kept each other updated. So the only reason Millie could want a divorce after so long was that she wanted more than what she had right now. A proper, committed relationship, perhaps even a proper marriage.

Could he blame her for that? Of course not, she deserved to be loved, deserved to have a man adore her. He couldn’t be that man for her, not now and not ever. He could never be that man for anyone. And he would never risk getting so close to a person again—being emotionally sliced and diced by his mum, then his fiancé, was more than enough.

He tried to smile, but found it incredibly hard. When he spoke, he didn’t achieve the lightness he was aiming for. ‘So who’s the lucky guy?’ he asked.

Millie looked at him, her eyebrows pulling down. ‘What?’

At the thought of another man kissing her, wrapping his arms around her slight body, doing all the things he wanted to do, Ben’s gut twisted. The whisky he’d swallowed sloshed in his stomach and he felt seasick.

Nobody affected him like this.

It had to be the shock of seeing Millie all grown up, her now being a woman and not a girl. That’sallit could be. All he’d allow it to be. Anything else was impossible. Yes, maybe he was attracted to her, she was lovely—who wouldn’t be?—but he was old enough to know he didn’t need to act on it. In fact, it would be far more sensible not to. Less complicated. Smarter.

‘I’m not seeing anyone, Ben,’ Millie told him.

He frowned and her words sank into his jittery brain. ‘Then what’s the problem? Why do you want things to change?’

Millie stood and walked over to the glass doors that led on to the balcony and watched fat snowflakes fall out of the sky. They were running out of time, the blizzard was roaring in, but he stayed where he was and watched her.

Millie placed her forehead against the cool glass, her shoulders rose and fell and she released a long sigh. Her breath put condensation on the window and she dragged a finger through the wet patch. When she turned, he saw the frustration in her eyes and the tilt of her chin implied she could be stubborn. Like mother, like daughter.

You don’t get apples from orange trees, Jónsson.

She managed a self-deprecating smile. ‘Aren’t you sick of me? Aren’t I a millstone around your neck? I’m happy to sell you my stake in the company. I’m a grown woman and I could find someone else to act as the trust’s financial adviser.’

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