I debated the wisdom of quitting my job before Saturday, especially with Katka constantly in my ear, telling me all of the reasons this was a bad idea. If I quit my job and Blayne decided not to go through with the marriage, I would be unemployed with no prospects. In any case, I wouldn't be able to give a proper two-week's notice because, after the wedding, Blayne and I were going on our honeymoon.

I had been surprised by that. Since this was a business arrangement, I had thought we might take a quick trip. Maybe to New York or Niagara Falls, using something as an excuse to appease his father. The wedding was a quick one, but Blayne had already told me that his father had agreed that if I wanted a large ceremony, it could be arranged as well. It just had to be legal this Saturday afternoon.

Blayne had assured me that, while our hotel reservations were for the honeymoon suite, he already planned on sleeping on the living room couch that the expensive hotels always provided in their suites. Apparently, we would be spending three days in London, three in Madrid, three in Paris and three in Venice. He seemed surprised that I'd already been to all of those places, but understood once I'd explained I had worked as a model for a few years. He'd been impressed by that, and then told me he'd told his father I was a businesswoman.

That had been the perfect opportunity for me to explain my plans to him and I was pleased at how supportive he'd been. We'd had that conversation on Wednesday. On Thursday evening, when an overly friendly customer tried to grab my breast and then asked how much it would cost to sleep with me, I quit. I may not have known Blayne very well, but I knew he wouldn't call things off.

Katka hadn't been pleased about that decision either and had made a point, on Friday, of informing me that she was going to work since one of us needed employment. I believed that Blayne would come through. After all, he had more to lose than I did. I told my sister that too, but she had merely commented that if he found a woman willing to sleep with him too, what was to stop him from breaking off our engagement and marrying her.

I hadn't tried to argue with her. I knew my sister. Once she decided that she was right about something, nothing could change her mind. She wouldn't believe that Blayne was going to marry me until I had the signed certificate, our prenuptial agreement that included all of the financial things he and I had discussed – couched in terms like 'allowance' and 'alimony' – and the first check had cleared. When I'd brought the contract home to review, she'd immediately pointed out that it said nothing about me not having to sleep with him. I'd countered by indicating the section that stated the agreement was null and void in the instance of any sort of abuse, entitling me to half of everything he stood to inherit or make. I didn't even bother to add that, no matter what his reputation was, Blayne would never force himself on a woman. She argued about how I knew that. Katka had spent the remainder of the night in her room, pouting.

Saturday morning, I'd dressed in the simple, but elegant dress that Blayne had paid for. We weren't having a big ceremony, but he'd insisted I get something special to wear. If I'd had the time, I would have designed my own, but what I had chosen was almost as beautiful. My skin tone washed out in white or ivory, so I'd gone with a very, very pale blue. It was almost too pale to be called blue but it complemented my coloring much better than any shades of white would have.

I pulled my curls up into a simple but flattering twist and fastened them in place with the only sentimental thing I'd allowed myself for the day. Most everything that had belonged to our parents had been sold after their deaths, but I had managed to hold on to a pair of silver combs. Family heirlooms, they were genuine silver and studded with small sapphires. No matter how bad things had gotten, we'd never considered selling them. I'd always assumed Katka would be the one who wore them on her wedding day, who would pass them down to her daughter. She would still do that, just not first. At least the wedding part. I wasn't planning on having a child any time soon.

I pressed my hands against my stomach as butterflies fluttered nervously. Children. Blayne had explained to me that his father hadn't made an heir a requirement, for which we were both grateful. I wouldn't have been able to go through with this if it had been. As attractive as Blayne was, I didn't want to think about being required to sleep with him. I was nervous enough about having to kiss him. And that didn't even account for what it would do to bring a child into this arrangement.

At least it would be a small affair and I would be eased into meeting his family, I thought as I set my make-up on the counter. His parents would be there, of course, but out of his four siblings and their families, only his brother Samuel, sister-in-law Hannah, and their five children would be present. It still made me shake my head at the idea of nine people being less than half of a family.

I had to admit, it wasn't the Westmores' money or position that made me the most anxious. It was the prospect of being a part, even for only three years, of such a massive family. Even before our parents' death, Katka and I had come from a small family. We had no other living relatives.

I checked my make-up again, trying to be as critical as possible. I knew that Blayne's father already didn't approve of me and thought I was only in it for the money, but I wanted to make a good first impression on the others. Granted, I was getting married for the money, but not in the way Mr. Westmore was assuming.

I took a deep breath and glanced at the boxes sitting in my bedroom. Blayne had told me to only pack a small carry-on for the honeymoon. I would be able to buy whatever else I needed. That bag had been picked up an hour ago by a man named Javier who'd introduced himself as the driver who'd be taking Blayne and me straight to the airport. The boxes contained the rest of my belongings and would be moved into Blayne's penthouse while we were gone.

I didn't look at Katka's closed door. She had informed me on Friday that she would not be attending my wedding. She had to work. I knew that she purposefully scheduled herself to work, but I didn't argue with her about it. I knew she didn't approve, but I would've liked to have her there, if for nothing else but so I would have someone I knew. But, it wasn't like this was a real wedding, a day I would want her to be my maid of honor so we could celebrate the happiness together. I could not really be hurt by her refusal.

The town car Blayne had sent was waiting for me and in the backseat was a small bouquet of flowers. A card was tucked between the red roses. The handwriting was surprisingly neat. For someone like Blayne, I'd expected a messy scrawl. The message was cleverly worded. To my beautiful bride on our wedding day: You changed my life the day you agreed to marry me. May our love never change. I could almost picture the grin as Blayne wrote it, knowing full well that every word meant something different to us than it would to anyone else who read the note.

I tucked the note back into the bouquet, wedging it down so that it wouldn't spoil the look of the flowers, but I also wouldn't lose it. Just because I wasn't in love with Blayne didn't mean I didn't like him. I truly believed we would become friends over the next three years and that note would be the kind of thing we could take out and laugh over in the future.

He was waiting on the courthouse steps, looking both cold and uncomfortable in what could only have been a tailor-made tux. I took the time to appreciate the lines of the jacket and pants as I made my way up the stairs to him. I shivered when I reached him and he put his arm around my shoulders. I almost pulled away, but then realized that any man who didn't try to warm his bride-to-be would either look like a fake or an ass. I didn't want him to look like either, so I allowed the contact as he led me toward the judge's chambers.

Mr. Westmore didn't look happy, but Mrs. Westmore greeted me warmly enough. Her smile wasn't overly friendly, but she kissed my cheek and seemed sincere. Samuel was as large as Blayne and his hand swallowed mine. His wife, Hannah, was beautiful enough to have been a model had she been taller and the way she carried herself told me that she was definitely from the same class as the Westmores.

I smiled at each of the children, shaking their hands as Hannah introduced them. Jonathan, then a set of twins Addison and Madison, Francis and Prudence. All with their father's blue-gray eyes and their mother's dark hair. I could see Blayne's affection for them as he greeted them and it made the knot in my stomach ease slightly. My instincts were right. He was a good person. I was doing the right thing.

“Shall we?” The judge spoke from behind his desk.

The ceremony was simple, sticking to the basics, and then it was over and it was time for us to kiss. Blayne's eyes met mine and I saw a variety of emotions swirling in the dark gray. I was all too aware of the audience we had and my heart was racing, but I knew I couldn't tell him to stop. It was too late. I was in this now.

His hands were surprisingly gentle as he cupped my face and then his lips were on mine. His mouth was firm as he parted my lips. A flare of panic went through me as I waited for his tongue to force its way inside, but it didn't. He made it more real than a brush of mouths would have been, but never crossed the line. When he pulled back, I opened my eyes and I could see the question in his eyes, asking if I was okay. I gave him a slight nod and then smiled as I turned toward his family. I felt my cheeks burning and my mouth tingled. I told myself it was a natural reaction to the circumstances, but I couldn't deny that I didn't entirely dislike the feel of his hand on the small of my back.

And that was exactly why I'd made the rule about no physical contact.

I was worried that, because of the kiss, Blayne would have expectations for the honeymoon, but once we were on the plane, on our way to London, he put a respectable distance between us and kept the conversation impersonally pleasant.

I actually enjoyed the honeymoon more than I'd anticipated. I'd always loved the cities we were visiting, but I hadn't expected to be allowed to do my own thing. It wasn't like I'd really had an idea of how things were going to go, but then Blayne pretty much went off on his own and left me with a credit card and the instructions to have fun, was definitely different. The few times I saw him, he wasn't cold or distant, but it was clear he was respecting our contract.

I took leisurely strolls through the parts of the cities I hadn't gotten to see when I'd been modeling, appreciating the architecture and the history. I visited art galleries and museums, letting the beauty stimulate my own creativity. I went into all of the best shops, loving that I was able to not only browse, but buy. I was conservative when it came to my wardrobe, but Blayne had insisted I buy whatever I needed and make sure that it was pricey. I'd protested until he'd said his father would never believe a woman could go to any of these places and not shop, especially on her honeymoon. The only thing he'd said I had to buy for appearance sake was lingerie. I'd done as he asked and found myself even enjoying that even though I knew no one would be seeing these particular items.

I called Katka every night in London, but then stopped when it became clear all she was going to do was ask what Blayne was doing. Was he hitting on me, pressuring me into sex? When I said no, she'd ask if he was cheating on me. I finally told her that if she couldn't refrain from being rude, I wouldn't call her. I knew she didn't think I'd stop, but I did. I had work to do and beautiful places to see. It pained me to not speak with her, but she had to respect my choice.

As for Blayne, I didn't know where he was or what he was doing, but he always came back to the room at night, never tried anything and was pleasant to be around when he was there. I had to trust that he wouldn't do anything stupid. I had my fifty thousand dollar check and no matter what happened, that was mine. I was looking forward to the rest of the money over the years, but in reality, he stood to lose a lot more than I did if he screwed things up. I would play my part and I believed he would play his. We would make this work.