Chapter One

Olivia

The feelings I’m developing for my new husband have startled me in their depth and intensity. Our marriage was only supposed to be a legal agreement—a business arrangement meant to appease the stakeholders. But we’ve quickly become something much more.

I stretch my arms overhead and let out a soft sigh. His vacated side of the bed is still warm and I roll over, soaking up the remnants of his body heat.

Sometimes I can still hardly believe it. I feel like a new Olivia, relaxed and fun and optimistic. The silly smile perma-fixed to my lips? It’s crazy. Of course, it could be because Noah is thoughtful and kind and generous in bed . . . and hung like a damn elephant. That last part is just icing on the cake. I almost giggle.

If I have to be fake-married to anyone, I’m glad it’s Noah. These last few weeks, we’ve really bonded, grown closer than I ever thought possible. I trust him, depend on him, and have finally started to let my icy exterior melt a little. And did I mention the great sex?

Speaking of sex, though . . . God, where is he? He was supposed to be getting a condom from the bathroom, but that should have taken about forty-five seconds, and I’ve been waiting forever for him to come back and ravish me.

With an impatient huff, I swing my legs over the side of our enormous bed and pad barefoot and naked down the hall. The bathroom door is mostly closed, but I give it a gentle nudge and it swings open.

Noah is standing in front of the sink, stark naked. A condom packet in one hand. A small but sharp-looking silver needle in the other.

What the fuck?

I don’t even notice I’ve gasped until his head jerks up.

My heart plummets.

Noah’s skin is pale and he stares at me with wide, almost wild eyes. Does his expression come from guilt, or is he just startled and confused? I don’t know which is worse.

I recoil back into the hall, my hand pressed to my mouth. No, no, no . . .

He looks down blankly at what’s in his hands, as if he has no idea how those things got there, then hurls it all into the sink like it’s burned him. “Olivia . . . w-wait, it’s not, I wasn’t . . .” he calls.

But I’m already running away, my breath tearing from my throat in sobs.

Not even five minutes ago, he was talking about how good it would feel to fuck me bare. Trying to tempt me into going without a condom. I thought he just wanted the intimacy—to get closer to me, to join together without barriers, skin on skin. But he was after something else. And when he couldn’t convince me to give it to him . . . he was going to take it.

What in the ever-loving hell is going on?

Everything has suddenly clicked into horrible clarity. This explains why he’s seemed subtly off—sometimes restless, sometimes a little too still—ever since we dealt with Brad. I sensed something but I couldn’t put my finger on the feeling, so I dismissed it as me being paranoid and reading too much into meaningless stuff. I figured he was probably just stressed from work and worried about the company’s future.

Turns out my gut instincts were right all along. He was lying to me. And not just any old lie . . . he was trying to put a baby in me whether I wanted one or not. I shudder, thinking how close I came to disaster. If I hadn’t barged into the bathroom just now, if I’d waited even one more minute . . .

But why in God’s name would he even do this? The Noah I know is hardly a family man, dying to settle down and have kids.

Then again, I obviously don’t know him as well as I thought I did.

I rush to the bedroom and yank on the first clothes I see—the sundress I wore to the spa today, the sundress Noah just peeled me out of. I need to cover myself up. My nudity suddenly isn’t sexy or intimate anymore. I’m just exposed, and I can’t be naked in front of a stranger.

His footsteps come close behind me. “Snowflake, let me explain.”

“Get away from me!” My voice cracks into a near shriek. I hate the sound of it, hate how upset I am, how much power Noah has over my emotions. I want to roar, not whimper. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you out of your fucking mind? What explanation could you possibly have for . . . for doing that?”

“I wasn’t actually going to do it.” Noah grimaces as the words rush out, like they scrape his throat coming up.

“Do what? Secretly poke a hole in your condom so you could sneak your fucking sperm into my uterus? Because that really seems like what you were doing!”

“Will you just listen to me for a minute? I only considered it because I was desperate. And I hate that the thought even crossed my mind. I could never actually—”

“Why were you desperate? What the hell are you talking about?”

I need answers. All of them. Right the fuck now. And all he’s giving me is nonsense babbling.

With a heavy sigh, Noah rakes his hand through his hair. He looks bitterly angry, but not at me—his expression is turned inward.

“Come with me. You need to see something . . . something I should have showed you a long time ago.” He pulls on a pair of drawstring pants, seemingly not wanting to be naked any more than I do.

Noah offers his hand but I don’t take it. I don’t want to touch him right now. After waiting a moment, he lets his arm drop and turns away.

I follow him to the living room, where he picks up his briefcase leaning by the armchair. As he flicks through its tabbed folders, he asks, “You’d do anything to save this company, right?”

I furrow my brow in irritated confusion. “Of course I would. But what’s that got to do with you trying to knock me up?”