A Game of Vows. Maisey Yates

did. He didn’t do his job.”

      “Basically, you didn’t notice that he was screwing up?”

      The thought of it, of trying to keep track of that, plus the day-to-day running of Vega, made his head swim, made his temples pound. His breath shortened, became harder to take in. Panic was a metallic taste on his tongue.

      Would he ever feel normal? Or was this normal now? Such a disturbing thought. One he didn’t have time to dwell on.

      “I didn’t have time,” he gritted.

      “Too busy sleeping around?” she asked.

      “Different heiress every night,” he said, almost laughing out loud at his own lie.

      “Better than toying with the domestic staff, I suppose. Or blackmailing interns into marriage.”

      “Ours was a special case,” he said.

      “Oh, yes, indeed. I suppose that’s why I feel suffused with a warm glow of specialness.”

      He chuckled, gratified when Hannah looked stymied by the reaction. She wanted to make him angry. He wouldn’t allow it. One of the gifts of his head injury, one of the few. It had cooled his passions, and while that had been inconvenient in some ways, in others, it had proven valuable. He was no longer hotheaded. Usually. No longer impulsive. According to some, he was no longer fun. But he didn’t know how to fix that. He found he didn’t care anymore. Another gift.

      “Well, it is your big day. Shouldn’t a bride feel special?”

      She uttered a truly foul word and sat on the edge of the bed, the white skirt of her dress billowing out around her. Like an angry, fallen, snow angel. “Low.”

      “Do you love this man? The one you were meant to marry today?” He found that did trouble his conscience, even if it was only a bit of trouble.

      She shook her head slowly. “No.”

      He shook his head. “Using someone else?”

      “Hardly using him. Zack doesn’t love me, either. Neither of us have time for some all-consuming passionate affair. But we like each other. I like him. I don’t like the idea of him being stood up. I don’t like the idea of humiliating him.”

      “More humiliating, I think, if he finds out his almost-wife has been lying to him. About so many things.”

      She looked down at her fingernails. “Zack has his secrets. He doesn’t think anyone realizes it … but he has them. I can tell. And I know better than to ask about them.”

      “And that means …”

      “He would have accepted that I had mine. We didn’t share everything.”

      “I doubt he intended to share you with another husband.”

      “Well, it’s not going to happen now.” A brief expression of vulnerability, sadness, crossed Hannah’s features. And as quickly as he’d glimpsed it, it disappeared. Clearly, she had some amount of feeling for her lover, no matter what she said.

      “Plans change.” As he knew all too well.

      “I have to call … someone,” she said, her heart twisting.

      “It’s too late to salvage the day.”

      “I’m aware,” she snapped. “Just … give me a minute.”

      She pulled her phone from her purse.

      “Who are you calling?”

      “My assistant. She’s in the office minding things since I’m away. Shelby?” Her tone turned authoritative.

      She paused for a moment, her cheeks turning a dull pink. “I know. I can’t … I can’t go through with it. It’s complicated. And I can’t get to the hotel.” She gave him a pointed look. “Can you drive over and … and tell Zack?”

      “Tell him what?” Eduardo heard her assistant’s shriek from where he was standing.

      “That I’m sorry. That I wish I had been brave enough to do it differently but I can’t. I know it’s rush hour and it’s going to take forever, but please?” Hannah paused again.

      “Thank you. I … I have to go.” She hit the end call button and rounded on him. “I hope you’re pleased with yourself.” He wasn’t, not then. But this wasn’t about how he felt. This was about what had to be done. This was about trying to fix Vega. Trying to fix himself.

      “Not really. But I promise you in the end you will be.”

      “I doubt that.”

      “Once everything is resolved I will give you permission to speak of your part in the resurrection of my family’s company.”

      He hadn’t intended on giving her that much. The offer shocked him. He wasn’t usually spontaneous anymore.

      “Really?” she asked, her expression guarded, but the interest in her eyes too keen for her to conceal entirely.

      “Really. I promise, in the end, I’ll divorce you and you can crow your achievements. What I don’t want is anyone undercutting the business while it’s vulnerable. But afterward, say whatever you like, drag me through the mud, talk about my inadequacies. It’s only pride,” he said. Pride he’d had to give up a long time ago. He clung to what he could, but it was limited.

      “You’ll really divorce me this time? Forgive me for not trusting you.”

      “If you don’t move around like a gypsy, then you should get papers letting you know when everything is final.” The first aborted divorce hadn’t been intentional. Another side effect of the accident that had changed everything. But, this side effect happened to be a very fortunate one indeed.

      “Fine. We have a deal.” Hannah extended her slender hand and he grasped it in his. She was so petite, so fine-boned. It gave the illusion of delicacy when he knew full well she possessed none. She was steel beneath that pale skin.

      A smile curved his lips, satisfaction burning in his chest. “Good girl.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      “YOU made me buy my own ticket.” Hannah stood in the doorway of Eduardo’s penthouse, exhausted and wrinkled from travel, still angry at the way everything had transpired. She’d had short notice, and limited options. She’d had to fly economy.

      An infuriating smile curved Eduardo’s lips. “I did. But I knew you could afford it.”

      “Doesn’t chivalry dictate you buy your blackmailed wife’s plane ticket?” Hannah dropped her suitcase next to her feet and crossed her arms. The most shocking thing about Eduardo’s appearance had been his departure, with a demand that she meet him in Barcelona in twenty-four hours. And she could get there herself.

      It had been a blow to her pride, and he knew it. Because she’d been forced to get herself to Spain. She’d been the one to board the plane. If he’d tied her up and thrown her into cargo she could have pretended he’d truly forced her. That she was a slave to him, rather than to the mistakes of her past and her intense need to keep them secret.

      But there was nothing more important than her image. Than the success she’d earned. Than never, ever going back to that dark place she’d come from.

      Because of that, she was a slave to Eduardo, and a coward where Zack was concerned. More than a day since their almost-wedding and she hadn’t called him. Of course, he hadn’t called her, which spoke volumes about the quality and nature of their relationship.

      “I checked and there was no specific entry in the handbook about the most chivalrous way to force one’s estranged bride to come and do their bidding.”

      “What’s the point of even having a handbook, then?” She let out a long breath and looked pointedly at the doorway Eduardo