6: An agreement

 *Skye*

 In horror, still trying to recover from Ben’s proclamation, I watch as he turns to his father. “I assume you have no objections”.

 The elderly man smiles. “None whatsoever. I was rather hoping for this outcome when all was said and done”.

 Ben turns back to me. “What do you say, Skye ? Much better to be my wife than my mother, don't you think ?”

 “No !” The word comes out harsh, abrupt, but inside I am screaming, No, no, no, no, no ! I can not marry Ben. Absolutely can not do that. I am here to marry his father. An old man who believes he needs an heir when he already has one.

 Not his sexy son, who causes my insides to flutter every time he looks at me, my body to warm when he touches me and my entire being to dissolve into a heated puddle when he kisses me. I can not, will not, marry him.

 "No !" I repeat with the authority of my conviction.

 With a cheeky grin, he tosses the papers onto my lap and settles against the sofa in an insolent lounge, his arm resting along the back of it, his fingers tapping merrily. “Then the contract is null and void and we're done here, have a nice trip home”.

 “No !” I look imploringly at Marsden. “You and I are supposed to get married. That's what we agreed to”.

 He gives me a sad smile, the wrinkles shifting over his face. “That's what we discussed in our correspondence, but the contract is worded a bit differently. It simply states that you must provide me with an heir”.

 “I can't provide you with an heir if I'm not married to you”.

 “You will give him an heir by giving me one”. Ben says, his voice dripping with

arrogance.

 Jerking my attention to him, I want to snatch that smug, self-satisfied smile right off his gloriously handsome face. He believes he has won, when he doesn’t even know what I am fighting for, what is at stake. If I told him ... God, if I told him he wouldn't be sympathetic, he wouldn't understand. He would cast me out as brutally as my own family had.

 “The contract states that you will marry and provide the Archer family with an heir. It doesn't specify whom you get to marry. If you give me a son, you have in essence provided him with his heir. And actually much tidier. If you give my father a son, you have merely given him a spare. Who may or may not inherit, depending on what I do with my life. Give me a son, and you have provided the next heir apparent. Honestly, Skye, I don't understand why you're not throwing yourself at me. That's what you want, isn't it ? A son who will have contacts, a name, estates, power, wealth. Is it that you object to being merely the wife of the son and not the current head of the family ?

You would get there eventually, but perhaps not soon enough for your aspirations”.

 I hear the disgust, the pure revulsion in his voice. How can marriage to him be pleasant when he hates me before the vows are even exchanged ?

 But if I say no, where will I go ? What would I do ? How would I survive ? I can not return to what my life has been. It would destroy me. He would destroy me.

 I get to my feet and turn to the fireplace. Cold, so cold. I wish there was a fire, but I  doubt even that would warm me, as I am chilled to the very marrow of my bones. I need to find a reason for him to cast me aside, while ensuring that Marsden will still want me. “But surely you want a woman of the same status as you, someone with a proud lineage to stand by your side”.

 “It wasn't one of my father's requirements. No need for it to be one of mine".

 “He's a good man, my son”. Marsden says. “You couldn't want for better”.

 “Oh, I suspect she could. Why don't you go outside and see if you can catch sight of the priest arriving, tell him we need a little more time ?”

 “Jolly good idea. Give you two a moment alone to sort things out”.

 I hear the creak of his bones as he gets up, the shuffling of his footsteps as he makes his way out.

 I don’t want to be alone with his son. Never again do I want to be alone with him.

 I am acutely aware of Ben suddenly standing beside me, the heat and power rolling off him, even though he isn't touching me. Why do I have to be so freaking aware of him ?

 “You judged me correctly, Skye, when you said I want to protect my father. I will do whatever necessary to shield him from anyone who would dare to take advantage of him or wish him harm”.

 “I've told you that I don't wish him harm. I will provide him with companionship, another child, an absence of loneliness. I would care for him”.

 “I don't trust you not to take advantage of him. As you have seen, he's not always in his right mind”.

 I face him. “So you will marry a woman you clearly hate ?"

 “I have no interest whatsoever in love. I never had. I watched it drive my father insane. I will not follow that path. But I do want an heir. I could hardly do better than a woman who is willing to let me take her from behind, on her knees, or upside down”.

 I slam my eyes closed. I had been trying to shock him, put him in his place, and get him to leave off. That approach certainly hadn't produced the results I had wanted.

 He touches his finger to my jaw. Opening my eyes, I jerk back.

 He angles his head, mockingly lifting a corner of that wicked mouth. “Not exactly the response I got on the terrace”.

 “Damn you”.

 “You can't deny there's an attraction between us, so we'll have that at least. I can assure you that you will find pleasure in my bed and in my arms”.

 “Not the least arrogant, are you ?"

 “I have traveled the world and learned a good many things. You'll benefit from the knowledge”.

 "And outside of the bed ?”

 “We'll be polite to each other. Respectful. The day will be yours to do with as you please. The night will belong to me”.

 The way his eyes darken with the last few words tells me exactly how the night will belong to him. I do not dread what he might do to me; I dread only that I might not be able to resist falling under his spell. Once before I have tumbled head over heels for a man who exhibited confidence, boldness, assertiveness, but every aspect of him pales when compared with Ben. He not only knows his place in the world, but he owns it, commands it. I suspect he never has doubts, never questions himself. I am drawn to that self-assurance like a moth to a bright flickering flame. He can destroy me so easily if I am not careful. But without him I do not have a glimmer of hope.

 “Will I have an allowance ?”

 He grins darkly. “Naturally, my little mercenary".

 “How much ?”

 “What would please you ?”

 “A million quid a month”.

 He laughs, a deep rich sound that circles around me, through me, and takes up residence in my soul.

 "Two thousand”.

 “Ten”.

 “Let’s say five”.

 I can make do with that, set aside enough to ensure she will never be penniless again, and I wouldn't be totally dependent on his kindness.

 He cradles my face, and this time I stay as I am, giving him permission to touch me. “You'll never suffer by my hands. I can be quite generous”.

 I almost scoff. I have heard that before, lies painted so prettily, only then I had been young and naïve enough to believe the falsehoods, to embrace them, to pin all my hopes and dreams on them.

 Never again will I fall under any man's spell to such an extent that I lose sight of myself.

 “And, in case you need a reminder, there is always this”.

 He covers my mouth with his, urging my lips to part, then his tongue is slowly stroking mine, creating sensations that I want to deny brings me any sort of joy. But what is to be gained ?

 I have already lost my advantage. He isn't going to step aside and allow me to marry his father. And I can’t risk leaving here with nothing. He is suddenly my only hope. If I don’t anger him further, if I please him as a wife, perhaps he will protect me with as much vigilance and determination as he does his father.

 So I rise up on my toes, wrap my arms around his neck, and flatten my breasts against his chest.

 He believes me to be a widow. No sense in playing the shy miss. I know how to pleasure a man. It will certainly be no hardship to be intimate with him.

 With a growl, he crushes me to him, angling his head slightly, taking the kiss deeper. Hunger thrums through him. Need. He wants me. I can feel just how badly he does from what is pressed against my belly. I understand it is reckless and dangerous to accept his terms when I know so little about him except for what I have heard from the gossip and tabloids. But he is the lesser of two unfavorable choices.

 Drawing back, breathing heavily, he skims his thumb over my swollen, tingling lips. "Take a day to think about it. It's worth the money to me for you to be sure”.

 With that he releases me abruptly, causing me to stagger back, and heads for the door. For some strange reason, his words erase all my doubts.

 “I don't need a day”.

 That stops him in his tracks. He swings back around. “You've made your

decision ?”

 I had made that the moment I answered the advert. I have no choice. I have never had any choice.

 “I'll marry you”.