Not in a millennium would I have imagined my wedding reception would also be a wake. Surely people died at weddings from time to time. Death came when it wanted, unconcerned with the occasion it interrupted. But there was no precedent for our situation. No Miss Manners to refer to, only common sense and decency. My reaction, my desire, was to go to a quiet place and collect myself. How much more of this could I take?

The waiters began serving the plated brunch, beginning with us. Ren made a point of taking a bite immediately. I had no appetite.

He nudged me and whispered, "Eat. The guests are waiting for you. You'll need your strength later."

My body reacted to his innuendo treacherously. My heart raced. My body tingled at the thought of his touch. I'd wanted to sleep with him since the moment I met him. But now I was conflicted. I barely knew Ren. He was my husband, not a one-night hookup. And Manly had just died. I clenched my legs together and forced a bite of food down.

The guests took my cue. Soon the room buzzed with gentle conversation and the clinking of utensils against plates. Police officers quietly took one guest after another aside to question.

Ren took a few more bites while I sat beside him. We were objects of curiosity—morbid curiosity, idle curiosity, wicked curiosity. I didn't understand the meaning behind all the looks I was getting. I wondered what some of them were telling the overly curious police. If I'd had more of my wits about me, I would have kept track of who was friend and who was foe. It was clear some of the guests were malevolent and others sympathetic. I balled my fists in my lap, trying to breathe and suppress the urge to run from the room, run right down the road and out of this place and this life.

Ren sensed my distress. He set his fork down and grabbed my hand. "Time for us to mingle. Our guests will want to congratulate us and give us their condolences. I promised."

Give us their condolences was an odd phrase to hear at my wedding reception. Other than old ball-and-chain jokes or condolences on putting the single life behind me. If I hadn't been so shocked and worn out, I might have resisted. But I was made of stronger stuff, and Ren obviously had good people sense. He was right. We had to mingle. It was expected. It was the only chance we had of stifling the gossip. But it was an odd tightrope we walked with the police interspersed and watching our every move. Manly had died of natural causes, so why were they watching us with such suspicion? If we were too happy, did that convict us of a crime that didn't exist?

I nodded. Ren held his hand out to me and helped me out of my chair.

The parade began. We started with my dad and stepmom. Ren flattered my stepmom and reassured my dad, somehow winning him over with his false reassurances. Dad hugged me and whispered in my ear, "At least you got a young one." He sounded relieved, maybe even happy. Was that all that mattered in a husband? Or was that the silver lining?

And then he was like the dad I knew and loved. "But if you still want me to help you escape, I know a back way out past the cops."

I kissed him. "I'm fine. I think I'll stay."

"Good choice."

Mom was not as easy to fool or flatter. She was still regarding Ren with that chess-master look of hers. She hugged and kissed us both, making a good public show of it. But when Ren moved to the next table, she pulled me aside. "You'll permit me a few moments with my daughter."

There wasn't much Ren could say. "Of course."

Mom touched my face and smiled into my eyes, but hers would hard and calculating. "Nice move, darling. You'll have much more fun with this one." She glanced at Ren. "You mentioned the prenup in your text?"

"Everything's the same," I said. "Exactly the same terms as with Manly. Brand-new paperwork. But the same."

"Manly had papers drawn up?" Her eyes narrowed. "The old man planned for this." She couldn't have sounded more suspicious if she'd tried.

I couldn't tell whether she was pleased or displeased. "He planned for every contingency."

"Well, then," she said. "We'll make the best of it. My investment is secure, as is your future." She glanced at Ren again as he charmed another table full of guests. "He's hot and charismatic. A dangerous combination. Rumors abound. Make the best of it, Bliss. But be careful and on your guard. This marriage doesn't have to be long. If you ever feel threatened or unsafe, leave. Run. Do whatever you have to. As pretty as he is, he's rumored to have a dark side."

I shrugged. "You've been listening to gossip. The marriage has to last a year. And it will."

"And not a day longer," she said. "Less if needed. Trust your mama, baby girl. If he gets out of hand, I'll handle him and the details. I promised you your marriage to Manly would be short." She snorted. "This one needn't be long, either. I'll make sure of that."

Ren caught my eye.

With her warning ringing in my ears, I hugged Mom. "I have to go. My guests expect me to go around with my groom."

Ren was talking with Lady Ellen when I caught up with him. I heard just a snippet of their conversation.

"Be careful, Ren," she said. "You don't have many friends here."

Their conversation came to an abrupt halt when I came up. Lady Ellen recovered quickly. She smiled graciously at me, hugged me, and wished me well. But I felt the chill of her warning to my bones.

The rest of the reception was a surreal blend of grief and hope. People expressing their condolences and, in the next breath, wishing us a long and happy life together. Could they really believe that was possible? Is that just what you said at weddings? Could no one be more original? I was almost disappointed everyone was so damned polite.

My smile felt frozen on my face. Tears threatened, because I was exhausted and didn't have the energy to be polite much longer. Ren was tireless, charming, and soothing. He somehow knew what to say to each person. What each person needed and wanted to hear. A skill like that was frightening. He was an emotional chameleon. He could play people any way he wanted. He could be playing me.

Somehow, time passed. The police interviewed the last guest, made an announcement that people were free to go, and departed. The guests began to leave. Those who'd driven in for the day first, followed by a stream of activity as the hired staff carried suitcases and luggage to waiting cars as the overnight guests left, and the staff rushed in to clean their rooms.

Part of me wished I could escape with the guests, just leave this nightmare of a day behind and forget it. But no matter how far I ran, the memories and scandal would follow. As Mom's daughter, I was never truly out of the limelight. I hated to think what the tabloids would make of my marriage. It was hardly likely to be anything flattering.

Mom was the last to leave. I assumed that was intentional. If she'd wanted to make a grand exit, she would have. Her driver pulled her car up to the castle entrance. I walked her to the car, leaving Ren watching us from the steps at her request. Maybe he was afraid I'd hop in the car with her and renege. The marriage still very clearly wasn't consummated, and there were witnesses to that effect. He shouldn't have worried. I wasn't giving up my share of the castle so easily.

Mom hugged me and whispered, "Good job today. We have what we want. This phase of your life will be short. I promise. After this, you can do whatever you want. Run your bed and breakfasts. Become a world-renowned hotelier. Amass more for the family fortune. Marry whom you like whenever you like. You've played your part." She glanced up at Ren, looking like she wanted to lick her lips. "In the meantime, have fun. He is delicious." She slid into the car.

Her driver closed her door. I stepped back and watched her drive away. She didn't look back. But I stood rooted in place until she was out of sight before I turned and walked up the steps to my husband.

Ren extended his hand and took mine as the sun set. It was seven already. And yet I marveled at the trappings and tricks of time. Had this really only been one day? It felt like several lifetimes.

Ren led me inside. Other than the staff that remained, Ren and I were alone in the castle we'd both paid such a price for.

"You must be starved," he said. "You've barely eaten anything today."

"You must be, too." I looked him in the eye.

He grinned wolfishly. "Oh, I am. But I always am." He led me to the small, private dining room where Manly and I ate when not entertaining.

The table was set for two, with candles burning and the lighting low. A vase of freshly cut roses sat in the center of the table. All trace of Michaelmas daisies had, thoughtfully, been removed. A cold dinner was set out for us. The dinner I was supposed to be eating with Manly. The dinner that was meant for us to share and congratulate ourselves on a game well played. To share our amusement at how easily people's sensibilities were offended. To talk about our dreams going forward. But what did I do with the husband I had now?

Ren pulled my chair out for me. "I thought we should get to know each other a little better now that we're husband and wife."

"How much better?" I looked at him warily, trying to hide the lust I felt for him. Trying to hide the way a single suggestive look or word from him made me flushed and hot.

He was grinning as if he'd seen right through my attempt as he took the seat opposite me. "I don't know anything about you. What you like. What you don't like." The innuendo was still there.

"You know enough, I think." A bottle of hundred-year-old scotch sat on the table. I poured myself a drink. Scotch wasn't my favorite, but I needed something to numb my senses. They were threatening to return, and I couldn't have that. "You know I'm mercenary and married you for half the estate. What else is there to know?"

"And I married you for your mother's money. How positively medieval of me." His eyes gleamed in the candlelight. He was enjoying himself. "That makes us even. What I don't know is why you wanted this drafty old place badly enough to marry Manly and then me. The castle has its charms, certainly, and its eccentricities, to put it mildly. But is any of that enough to warrant such drastic action?"

"Blue," I said.

He frowned. "What?"

"My favorite color." I poured him a scotch and took another drink of mine. "If this is a first date, that's the kind of question you get answers to."

Before us, our dinner plates were covered with domes, but I knew what was supposed to be beneath. I removed the lid on mine and pretended to study my meal intently. It was exactly the dinner I'd asked the chef to prepare. Gorgeously arranged romantic foods carefully chosen for their flavor and aphrodisiac properties. Even though there was to be no sex between us, Manly and I had to keep up pretenses right down to the tiniest detail if people were going to be fooled into believing that we had a real, legally consummated marriage.

This was the dream meal I'd always imagined I would feed my groom in private on my wedding night, a bite at a time from my fingers and my mouth. Given my recent actions, it was hard to believe, but at heart I was a romantic. Manly would have gotten a kick out of this meal. At the thought, I swallowed a lump. I missed him.

There was more to the pretense—a perfumed and outfitted master suite, sexy designer lingerie, and a drawer full of male performance drugs. We were going to share a bedroom for the first few nights, even if I slept on the sofa.

As I looked my meal over, I lost my appetite, instantly regretting what was to be a great joke between Manly and me. A fuel to the fire of the exaggerated May/December scandal we created.

Ren downed his drink in a single flick of his wrist and poured himself another before taking the cover off his dinner.

There was a moment where I thought, or hoped, he wouldn't notice what the foods meant. As a grin played on the corners of his mouth and his eyes grew round, I knew he recognized the meal for exactly what it was meant to look like—a seduction. His gaze met mine. "Some of my favorite foods. I always enjoy a stimulating meal."

I swallowed hard, but held my composure. "And I always enjoy stimulating conversation. Eat. It's not wise to drink on an empty stomach."

He glanced at his plate and the delicate strands of saffron draping his cold rice salad. "Ah, saffron. Cleopatra reportedly added it to her baths to enhance her pleasure in lovemaking. No reports on whether she fed it to her male lovers, which is what she should have done."

I blushed.

"This was obviously meant for my uncle. For future reference, I perform quite well on a simple steak."

I bit my lip. "Another lovely tidbit about yourself. I'll keep that in mind should I ever want your company in my bed. And I guess I'll cancel that saffron bath I had planned."

He raised a bite of rice to his lips, grinning wickedly. His teeth were white in the candlelight, his hair dark, and the planes of his face highlighted. He looked every bit like one of his dark lord ancestors whose portraits hung in the gallery. I could believe he'd seduced fair maids and conquered more than lands. My heart squeezed just looking at him.

He stopped with the fork halfway to his mouth. "If this dish is laced with ashwagandha extract, you won't be able to handle me. Should I stop?" Beneath the table, he lifted the hem of my wedding dress with the toe of his shoe and slid his foot between mine.

It took great willpower to keep my face impassive as he caressed the side of my foot with his. "There's very little I can't handle. If I choose to." I took a bite of my meal, acting totally unconcerned. "What do you do for a living, duke? When you aren't marrying unsuspecting heiresses."

He leaned toward me and covered my hand with his. "Back to the first date, are we?" He seemed amused. He was clearly a man who liked the chase. "I build beautiful, wildly creative things. Things with curves." He traced the outside of my hand with his little finger.

Chills of delight ran up my arm and down my spine. He knew how to flirt. "There are all kinds of beautiful things in the world. Are you going to make me guess?"

"I'm an architect."

"Commercial? Residential?" I was surprised. Manly had ranted about his nephew wanting to build sustainable houses on part of the estate. But I had no idea that Ren was an architect and really had the skills to do it. And would likely design the houses himself.

He clasped my hand. "Commercial, mostly. Some residential for fun. Sustainable living. Homes of the future. That kind of thing. Smaller versions of my big commercial projects."

"Fascinating." I managed to slip out of one shoe. With my bare toes, I lifted the hem of his pants leg, slid down his sock, and caressed his ankle. I was good with my toes. Very good.

If he liked what I was doing, he didn't show it. He was a cool one. Fortunately, I liked the chase too.

"And you?" Ren said.

"Socialite. Heiress. Billionaire's daughter."

"Impressive résumé."

I shrugged. "You have to be born to it. Like being a duke."

He clasped my hand.

I ignored the desire coursing through me and took another bite, trying to appear totally unaffected by him. I was sure he wasn't used to that. I hoped it would put him off-kilter. I wanted him to feel as frustrated as I was.

"Yes, but no title. There's only one way to become a duchess. You have to marry into it. My mother wanted me to have a title to go with everything else she's leaving me." I took another drink of scotch and took a deep breath. "I'm her only child. She wanted one thing for me that money can't buy. Turns out, though, it can. Money can buy anything."

"Even love?"

"The appearance of it, at least." I lifted an eyebrow and gave him a penetrating look, leaving him to wonder whether I was talking about Manly or him.

Ren's gaze was intense. "You're Mommy's little princess? You do all her bidding?" His foot was inching up my calf.

"Hardly." It was hard to think with him distracting me. I loved it all the same. Very few men were as bold and confident as he was. And no one had intrigued me as much. "I live in her shadow."

"Nothing wrong with shadows," he said. "I've lived in plenty of them myself. People are afraid of shadows. One can accomplish a great deal in them."

He understood, and that was what was important. Whose shadow had he lived in? His brother's? I didn't dare ask. I didn't want to spoil this delicious mood we were building. "Nothing I do will ever compare to Mom's accomplishments."

"It doesn't have to." He continued eating. He was serious. "Life isn't a competition. Live it well for yourself." He was still working his magic with his foot, sending chills up my spine.

I set my fork down. "People will always think that anything I accomplish is because the advantage I have because of Mom's money."

He shrugged. "So let them. Why do you give a fuck?"

Why did I? "There are very few people I can even talk to about how I feel. Poor little rich girl. That's what people think."

"Limited experience. They believe in the fairytale of money, because it's fun and pretty. Not the reality of the downsides. Everything has a downside." He slid closer and clutched my thigh with his free hand beneath the table, inching my dress up. I could have stopped him. But I didn't. And not stopping him was tantamount to encouraging him.

I studied him and sighed. "I have no choice. I was born to this life, so it's the one I have to live." I wondered how much to trust him. "I wanted an escape." The words just burst out. "Someplace to hide and live in private. A fortress of a castle seems like the place for that. And you?"

"I was born to this life too, apparently."

He released my hand and cupped my cheek, spreading his long fingers back beneath my hair. He was so close that I could see into the depths of his eyes. I could have touched my nose to his in an affectionate nuzzle. I could have leaned in for a kiss. I studied him, heart pounding.

"You were supposed to save me from it by producing a little cousin for me."

His sarcastic sense of humor appealed to me. "Sorry to disappoint."

"You haven't disappointed. Not yet." His meaning was clear.

My toes curled.

"You're beautiful tonight, Bliss." His voice was low. He was clearly a man used to flattering women and getting what he wanted.

"I'm everything money can buy—a dress made for me by a top designer, hair done by one of the world's best stylists, makeup, the same. It's hard not to look good. I'd have to try not to. Is my 'beauty' what matters to you?"

"High cheekbones. Full lips. Pert nose. Beautiful eyes." His gaze dropped to my breasts.

"Everything's natural, if that's what you're wondering." I put a purr in my voice and slid off my remaining shoe. If he was going to tantalize me, I was going to torment him. "Just another thing I inherited." I unhooked my toes from his pants leg. "You didn't answer my question."

"I appreciate beautiful women."

"If beauty's what you want, I'll be as beautiful as I can be. But there's more to me than superficial beauty. I was raised by a brutally ruthless, highly intelligent woman. I may look like a fluffy princess, but I inherited more than my eyes and breasts from my mother. You'd be wise not to trust me."

The look of appreciation on his face deepened. "Thanks for the warning. I'll keep my eye on you."

The scotch was settling my nerves and loosening any remaining inhibitions I had. "For a duke, you don't sound very British. Your accent is an odd combination of American and English."

"After my father died, I spent years in the States with my American mother."

"So I heard," I said. "Not everyone here is thrilled with that. Seems like some would like a fully British duke."

"I don't give a fuck who is thrilled with what. Except for myself. I like to be pleased with my acquisitions." The way he said it made it clear I was his latest.

"Really?"

"We made a deal. I'm entitled to everything my uncle was, is that right?"

I forced myself to answer. "Yes." Why did I sound so breathless? I usually had more self-control.

"Where are we to honeymoon? Should I pack a bag?"

"Here at the castle," I said. "Manly was a hundred years old. His traveling days were over."

Ren didn't look disappointed. "There's a drawer full of male performance drugs in his room."

"Rummaging through his things?" I tsked. "That's not surprising for a man his age, is it? Help yourself, if you like. He doesn't need them anymore. I suppose they're rightfully yours now anyway," I said, coolly continuing the game. I was unable, even now that Manly was dead, to betray him and admit I'd never planned to consummate the marriage. Unable to admit to the ruse.

Ren grabbed my wrist. "Good. You just answered my question. I plan to consummate this marriage thoroughly. Without any help. I wouldn't want any dispute over our marriage's legality."

He released me suddenly and kicked his chair back. He pulled me from my chair and to my feet, caught me in his arms, and carried me up the grand staircase toward the bedchambers.