Emma
kept silent, her hands gripping the wall behind her, certain that anything she
could say would only exacerbate Mason's fierce anger. With sure intent, Mason
pushed back the hair from her face, then gripped the back of her head firmly as
he growled, “You're my wife, Emma. For three years. During that time, you
belong to me.”
Emma
could no longer keep quiet. “Why?” she asked fiercely, glaring at him, even as
he held her firmly in his grip.
“Why
what?”
“You
don’t want this, Mason. You don’t want me, or a relationship, or anything that
looks like a relationship. You want a wife, long enough to get your voting
stocks. That’s it. So you don’t need me to belong to you - you just need it to
look like I do. So fine,” she said softly. “You’ve won on all those counts. Now
let me go.”
But
Mason just looked down at her with a thoughtful expression, before his gaze
settled on her mouth. Heat flared in his eyes as he lifted them to hers. “No, I
don’t think I’m going to do that, Emma. Because you need to remember something
about me.”
“What?”
“I
don’t share.” Mason moved his other hand up to grip the other side of Emma's
head, her body held in place against the wall by his. Firmly, he lifted her
face to his, and leaned down to cover her mouth with his own.
His
kiss was hard, and he forced her own softer lips open for him. When his tongue
penetrated her mouth, she gasped with surprise. And found herself kissing him
back. She didn’t want to. She didn’t want to be attracted to him, or to let
herself show him that she wanted him, but she seemed to have no choice. She
couldn’t feel anything but him. Couldn’t think of anything but him. And when he
lifted his head from hers, she simply leaned forward, her forehead resting
lightly on his chest.
“Here’s
the bottom line, Emma,” he said quietly. “I want you, badly. So if sex is what
you want, you can have it. But you can’t have it with anyone other than me. Not
while we’re married. You belong to me, just as I belong to you. For three
years. Nobody else, Emma. Just me. Is that clear?”
“But...”
“Here’s
the
semantics
of it,” he continued without pausing. “You are my wife.
And as un-romantic as it may seem to you, we have a contract.” He gripped her
shoulders, bending down until he was sure that she was looking at him. “There
will be no Will. There will be no other men.”
She
pushed away from him, and he let her go. She leaned against the arm of one of
Mason's chairs as she looked over at Mason.
“You’re
right,” she said at last, the fight having gone out of her when he kissed her.
“There is no Will - there never has been. There is no other man. You need to
have
some
trust in me, or this is going to be a miserable existence for
three years. And later, when we’re feeling a little less frustrated than we are
right now, we might want to revisit this celibacy clause. Because here’s the
thing - you can’t keep kissing me. You make me crazy when you do. You show
emotion, you show a part of yourself. But when you stop, your defenses go back
up again. I can’t see-saw, Mason. It’s not who I am.”
Standing
up, she moved carefully around him and toward the door. “Will is a colleague. I
did not cheat. I do not cheat. I did not break your damn contract,” she added
furiously. “I will fight you on this one.”
Mason
just stood against the wall, his arms crossed, looking down at her. Finally, he
nodded. “I believe you. Just tell the guy that you’re married before he calls
here again.”
She
sighed. “I will.” And she quietly left.
Things
had changed subtly between them since that night. Emma was more guarded when
she talked to Mason, and he had gone back to the quiet hard man she’d first
married. He didn’t come home much. She spent more time at the office, often
coming home at dinner time to change and run, then going back to the office
with Chaos.
The
attraction between them was out in the open, but neither would act on it. Emma
wasn't willing to put her emotions on the line for a man who seemed to have
none, and Mason did not want to push himself on a woman who obviously wanted
more than sex. Sex was all he was willing to give.
When
Emma knew that Mason would be out of town, she spent more time at the house,
frequently inviting Malcolm and Michelle over for dinner or a movie. When Mason
knew that Emma would be out of town, he poured himself a scotch and settled
into his den, doing nothing but staring at the TV. They avoided each other,
unless there was a social event that they needed to be at. And those evenings
were incredibly hard for both of them. Mason, because all he wanted to do was
peel Emma out of whatever dress she appeared in, and Emma, because she felt
like the world’s biggest fraud. She hated pretending to be happily married to a
man she barely knew, and she was sure that the entire room could sense the
tension between them. She only hoped that they attributed it to sexual tension
of newlyweds, and not to anything more.
One
evening, after a long and fairly boring dinner, complete with speeches and
presentations, Emma leaned back in her chair, and felt Mason's arm encircle her
shoulders. She had worn a slate blue evening gown this evening, which left her
back and shoulders bare, with thin straps holding up the bodice and
criss-crossing her back to fasten at the waist. Mason's warm arm felt good in
the chill of the room, and she leaned back against him, settling into his
shoulder. His fingers lightly clasped her upper arm, and he gently stroked her
skin as they watched the final speaker close up the evening.
“You
feel good,” Mason breathed into her ear quietly.
She
shivered at both his words and the feel of his breath on her skin. “You're
keeping me warm,” she said in return, attempting to keep things light.
“I’m
glad,” he said simply.
She
pulled forward and away from him then. “Mason...”
“Shhh.
People are watching.” He continued to stroke her shoulder, his movements sure
as he pulled her back against him.
And
indeed they were. Speculation about Mason and his wife had only grown as time
went on. Emma was not who any of them had expected, and she was sure that
people watched them with skepticism. So she forced herself to lean back naturally,
and to look up at him with an adoring smile. He answered with a smile of his
own - one that would look natural and loving from anywhere but where she was.
She alone saw the chill in his eyes.
At
the coat check, Mason kept her tucked close. As they waited for their car to be
brought around by the valet, he kissed her lightly on the temple, and kept her
encircled in his arms. But once they were in the car, the silence returned.
Mason drove, Emma stayed tucked in on the passenger side, and they had little
interaction on the way home. When they got home, Emma let Chaos out while Mason
checked his e-mail and then closed and locked the house. Emma called a polite
goodnight to him as she shut her door. He grunted a response.
Back
in his room, Mason paced. Emma had raised the clause about seeing other people
a few weeks ago, and they'd never revisited it. Mason knew that she was right
about one thing - remaining celibate for three years would be damn near
impossible. But the thought of her with someone else, anyone else, was
unacceptable. If anyone saw her in public, his own reputation would be at risk,
as well as hers. And as discreet as she could be, he couldn’t imagine any man
dating Emma and not wanting to show her off. And the same held true for him.
Unless he was willing to either tell a woman the truth about his relationship
with Emma, he’d have to resort to running around like a cheating husband, and
that just was not in his blood. The only alternative was to seduce Emma. As
much as he wanted that, wanted
her
, he just didn't know if that was
wise. She would get attached. Want to talk and share feelings. Want to plan for
a family.
For
just a moment, he was distracted by the thought of her pregnant with his child.
Of a little Emma running around the house. Of a miniature Mason, throwing a
football. For just a brief period of time, he wondered if he was pushing away
the best thing that had happened to him. But then he remembered his own
childhood, and his own father, and realized how like his father he’d become. So
no, he wasn’t capable of being a normal guy with a normal life. Three years
with Emma, stock options intact, and then back to the life he was leading
before. Back to seeing different women, sleeping with them as he wished. The
thought left him cold, but he saw no other option. He needed to resist his
attraction for his own wife.
As
Mason paced and pondered, Emma was sitting in her own bedroom, her thoughts
scattered. All it took was a seductive word from him, a slight act of
tenderness, and she was drawn to him again. Until she saw his eyes, and
realized what an amazing actor he was. He felt nothing for her, she was sure of
it, but he was able to convince the entire world that he did. It was
exhausting, she thought. And she was very sure that she wouldn't be able to do
two more years of this. Something would have to give. Two weeks later, it gave.
Jen returned to town.
Emma
was at work on a Friday afternoon when she got a call from her grandmother.
Gran never called her during the day, preferring to wait until the evening so
she could watch her daytime shows and have plenty of time to regale her
granddaughter with what she’d learned in the infomercials.
“Gran?
Everything OK?” Emma asked when she picked up the receiver.
“Jen’s
coming home.”
Emma
was silent.
“Emma?
You there?”
“I’m
here, Gran. Nice lead-in there, by the way. So now I'm just debating about
whether I should stop and pick up a boxing glove or a gallon of red wine on my
way home from work tonight.”
“Definitely
the wine,” her grandmother advised. “She sounded nervous on the phone, so I
think she’s expecting the hit. And you’ve never been able to take her without the
element of surprise on your side, so I think you should let that thought go.”
Emma
sighed. “OK. So she’s going to Mom and Dad’s?”
“Evidently
she’s going to your house first. She called me to make sure that you’re still
at work - she intends to surprise you at home, only you’re not living there
anymore, so she’d be waiting there a long time.”
“She
doesn’t know I married Mason?” Emma asked.
“Apparently
not. I sure didn’t tell her.”
Emma
put her head in her hands and rubbed her temples between her thumb and middle
fingers. “Thanks for the heads-up Gran,” she said quietly. “I appreciate it.”
“Call
me later. I don’t have enough money to bail you out of jail if you do something
stupid, though, so try not to kill her.”
Emma
laughed then. “I’ll behave. You playing bingo tonight?”
“Not
a chance. I’m sitting by the phone waiting for my granddaughter to call.”
“Got
canceled, huh?”
“Yeah.
Some other event at the Moose Lodge tonight. Come by if you need me.”
“Love
you Gran.”
“Love
you too, baby. Good luck.”
Hanging
up the phone, Emma swiveled in her desk chair to look out her office window.
This was going to be an interesting evening, she thought. Jen had stayed away a
long time. Had she done it because she was having such a good time, wherever
she went, that she just didn’t want to return home? Or had she done it to be
sure that Emma had gotten over her initial fury at being left in this
situation?
She
wanted to see her sister. She loved her sister. She had missed her sister. But
they needed to hash out this whole Mason Parker thing first. Emma had no
illusions that Jen felt any guilt about walking out on her deal with Mason, but
her act had consequences, and it was Emma who was paying them. This wasn’t just
another ‘Emma will fix it’ situation - and Jen needed to realize that her
actions had indeed impacted someone.
Things
with her husband hadn’t gotten any easier lately. If anything, she and Mason
were even more cautious around each other. Chaos helped, since he loved them
both, but it was still awkward. Mason went out of his way to avoid her, never
returning to their conversation a month ago about revisiting their contract to
allow some sort of sexual release. For him. Emma wasn’t really interested in
getting involved with anyone - she had way too much on her plate as it was, and
she sensed that Mason would make that impossible anyway. If he had exploded
over the thought of a phone call, he was going to have apoplexy at the thought
of her going on a date.
But
that was for another time, another discussion, another argument. For now, she
needed to go meet Jen.
As
soon as Emma walked in the door of her home, she knew that Jen hadn’t been
there yet. It still had the feel of a house not lived-in. She moved around,
opening windows to let in some air, and generally dusting things off a bit. She
missed it here, though not as much as she did at first. She was just opening up
the curtains in the kitchen when she heard a quick knock on the front door,
followed by the sound of the door opening. She turned to see her sister, framed
in the doorway, her long hair flowing over her shoulders, a gauzy shirt
covering a camisole and tight leggings, and three-inch heels. And a huge smile
on her face.