Two days before our wedding, I stood barefoot in the catering kitchen of a beautiful North Carolina estate, still wearing the white dress from our rehearsal dinner, and heard the man I was supposed to marry explain why he had chosen me.
said, “He said your marriage was practical.”
I nearly smiled.
Of course he had.
“He said you knew.”
“Knew what?”
“That you two had an arrangement. He said you wanted the social stability of marriage and he wanted the same thing. He said you hadn’t been romantic in years.”
For a moment, words deserted me.
We’d made love eight days earlier.
Afterward, Ryan had held my face and asked whether I felt nervous about becoming Mrs. Caldwell.
“I didn’t know,” Natalie whispered.
“You knew enough.”
“Yes.”
I appreciated her honesty.
Then she added, “Briar North was supposed to become his independent advisory firm. He said after the wedding he’d have enough capital to leave Harrow & Lane.”
That completed the picture.
“After the wedding?”
“Yes.”
“And you?”
“He told me I’d run client relations.”
I slowly sat on the bed.
Ryan wasn’t merely marrying me for stability.
He intended to
