He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and asked, “Why the strong reaction, Gabi?”
Her gaze met his, her forced smile faded. “It’s not important.”
Which translated meant none of your business.
Hunter took the water from her hand, set it aside. He had a year and a half to discover her secrets. Something told him it wouldn’t take that long.
Gabi swayed when she stood, reached out to steady herself on his arm, then promptly let go. “Thank you,” she said. “For not prying.”
“I want to,” he told her.
“I know.”
Ms. Fortier walked into the room, concern on her face. “Shall we move on?”
Gabi looked around the room, her eyes fell on him. “What are they asking for this house?”
There was shock in Ms. Fortier’s voice when she spoke. “Eighteen point four.”
Gabi’s head snapped toward the other woman. “Million?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t I say less than ten?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Hunter stepped between them. “Write up an offer.”
“Hunter!” Gabi called behind him.
“The house is perfect, you said yourself. I’ll bolt the cellar door. What do you think about the furnishings?” He shifted the conversation as if the purchase of the home was a foregone conclusion.
Gabi closed the space between them and tugged on his arm to get his attention. “You’re being impulsive.”
“I’m being practical. Buying furniture takes time.”
“I’m not talking about the furniture. I’m talking about the house. Eighteen point four million dollars is—”
“My standard of living,” he said, his gaze firm. “Just like we agreed upon.”
Gabi glanced between Ms. Fortier and Hunter. “Fine.”
“Wonderful,” Ms. Fortier said.
Gabi leaned close. “I was trying to save you some money.”
“If I wanted to save money, I wouldn’t have gotten married.”
“I want to pick out my own furniture!”
Hunter met her eyes . . . added a slow smile. “Fine.”
Chapter Ten
“It’s not possible to come and go without an audience,” Gabi voiced her complaint to Gwen over tea. “Escrow won’t close for two weeks, if everything goes as Hunter planned.” Gabi held the curtain back and found a media camera swinging her way. Many of the news vans had grown bored and moved on, but a few of the entertainment television and magazine reporters settled in for the long haul.
Gwen lifted her regal chin and sipped. “You can always move in with him now.”
She let the curtain drop, cutting out the images of reporters and cameras. “No. I want mutual ground. Moving in with him would give him the upper hand.”
“How do you see that?”
Gabi shrugged. “I just do. Moving into a home neither of us has occupied feels safer.” At least in her head.
Gwen’s easy smile waned. “You don’t feel safe with him?”
“I don’t know him. It’s that simple.”
She carefully set her tea aside. “Yet you married him. You have to know that none of us believe you did so willingly.”
“None of us?” Gabi knew the intervention was coming. She’d received daily calls from every Alliance team member and a few previous brides who were close personal friends of Sam and Blake.
“We can start with your brother and Meg.”
“I’m aware of how Val feels. He’s being the protective brother.”
“It’s more than that. Michael called Karen and asked if the rumors were true.”
Michael was this side of Hollywood royalty and a former “husband” that Alliance had arranged. He and Meg had been visiting Val’s resort when everything went to hell with Alonzo.
Gwen kept talking. “Then there is Neil and Rick. The two of them have had their knickers in a knot ever since you announced the contract.”
Gabi unfolded from the chair and stood. She hated the wobble in her legs and did her best to steady herself. “I don’t think I have to tell you that your husband is suspicious by nature. And Rick is probably following Judy’s lead on this. I know she and Meg have been talking.”
Gwen followed her into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.
“You can call it suspicion, but I will call it deductive reasoning. Since you’ve lived in California you haven’t so much as gone to a nightclub or dinner without the company of a woman.”
Gabi opened her mouth to argue and Gwen stopped her. “If I’m not mistaken, the only charity event you attempted to attend alone was the one where pictures of you and Hunter emerged. Correct me if I’m wrong.”
“I’ve not been a recluse.”
“Close. Dangerously close and you know it. Marriage, even the arranged kind with a prenuptial contract, doesn’t make sense, Gabriella. You have friends . . . people who can help if you’d trust us.”
Gabi couldn’t take the worry on Gwen’s face. Facing the sink, she proceeded to wash the cup in her hand. The emotional part of her wanted to confide in the other woman . . . but the smart and thinking part . . . that section of her decided now was not the time discuss a billionaire’s blackmail. Without looking at Gwen, she attempted to stretch the truth.
“He’s an attractive man.” Which wasn’t a lie. “While his proposal and financial offer were unorthodox, I must admit having a man at my mercy wasn’t an awful position to be in.”