Fear gripped Mia hard as she tossed and turned in her sleep before shooting awake and glaring into the predawn light spilling in from the windows. Her head ached and her hand shook as she stared around the unfamiliar room and swallowed the terror holding her tight in its clutches. What happened last night? She held her head with a groan and tried to remember… she was supposed to meet Carl… Carl, who had been sent by Keith to drag her back to him.

She leapt off the bed, rushing for the door, but this room… this wasn’t home. She hadn’t gone with Carl because she’d fought him off and someone stepped in. The man with the sharp blue eyes and the scar on his face. Her hand resting on the doorknob, she closed her eyes and forced her body to relax, breathing in deeply a few times as images came back to her: talking to the man, rushing out of the pub, standing on the curb. She was going to wave down a taxi, but everything went dark. Vaguely, she remembered images of lights washing over her from the back seat of a car… and being carried, maybe? Everything was a blur, but she couldn’t stay in this room forever.

Not sure what she was walking into, Mia opened the door a crack and squinted through the narrow gap. All she saw was a wall and part of what looked like a hallway. No sounds reached her ears, and after gathering her courage—or at least enough strength, she hoped, to sprint for the door—she opened the door and stepped out.

“Uh, hello?” she asked, but her voice cracked and she pressed her back to the wall, coughing quietly until she could manage a slightly louder volume. “Hey, I… uh, I have no idea where I am. Anyone… anyone home?”

Mia waited for a response, but there was nothing. Her heart pounding and hands clammy, she tiptoed farther down the hall until she reached a living area and open kitchen. The floor creaked loudly under her foot and a man shot upright on the couch. She yelped in alarm and sank back against the wall as he looked around, bleary eyed, squinting in her direction. His clothes were rumpled and his hair a right mess. Had she slept in his room? He didn’t say anything, and she wondered if he could even see her standing there.

“Um, hi?” she said tentatively.

“Oh, there you are! Sorry,” he mumbled through a yawn and shifted so he faced the table. “My contacts are in the bathroom. Let me snag my glasses.” He fumbled around in a jacket on the table and set a pair of black-rimmed glasses on his nose. “Ah, that’s better. Morning.”

“M-m-morning,” she stuttered and tucked her hair behind her ears. “I… uh, I guess I wound up here somehow last night.”

“Yes, quite a night it was, too,” he said and pushed to his feet. “You look like you could use some coffee.” Humming, he moved to the kitchen and pulled out three mugs, set them on the counter, and glanced at her. “I don’t bite. You can come closer.”

Mia looked around for the door and spotted it, debating whether she should take off, but the man didn’t appear threatening. His smile was gentle and his eyes soft and filled with worry she’d honestly never witnessed in a man before. Swallowing her fear, she walked to the kitchen and sat on one of the barstools at the counter.

“Can you tell me what happened last night?” she asked after he popped a pod in the coffee maker.

“I should probably introduce myself first,” he said and held out a hand towards her over the counter. “I’m Jeremy Reider.”

Mia flinched at first when he extended his hand. His brow wrinkled, but if he questioned her response, he kept it to himself. “Mia,” she replied as she took his hand gently and shook it.

“No last name?”

“Not yet, sorry.” She had no idea who this man was. Had he been at the pub last night? She eyed the door again and he followed her gaze.

“You’re not being held here if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Her face warmed, and she clasped her hands together on the counter, hoping that would stop them from shaking. “Good… that’s good to know. So, last night? I’m sorry, but I don’t remember seeing you. I remember the other guy, though…” His scarred face popped into her mind, and the fierce glimmer in his eyes after he stopped Carl from trying to take her. “Where is he?”

“This is his place,” Jeremy explained. “Sugar, cream?”

“A little of both, please,” she said, and he stirred them in before handing over the mug. The warmth from it radiated up her hands and through her arms but did little to melt the ice-cold fear hovering in her chest. “So who is he? Does he usually rescue damsels in distress and whisk them away to his fortress of solitude?”

“Ha! He’s far from any superman, I’m sorry to tell you, and no, he is not the hero type. Ever.”

“Then why am I here?” The last thing she remembered was rushing out of the pub after yelling at the man who had saved her and hailing a cab. Clearly, that hadn’t happened.

“He followed you out of the pub and said you passed out on the sidewalk.” Jeremy stirred his own coffee as he joined her at the counter, studying her with a pitying glance. “We didn’t know who you were or if there was anyone we could call, so we brought you back here.”

The coffee Mia had already drunk settled heavily in her stomach and roiled. She fought the urge to be sick as the realization of how horribly wrong last night had gone slammed into her. Keith. There wasn’t a chance in hell she could go back to him, or anywhere near him. She couldn’t go back to her job, to the house… not even to Gina.

“Oh no,” she whispered and looked frantically around the living room as she hopped off the stool. “My bag—did you bring my bag?”

Jeremy pointed to the living room, and she darted over to the duffle on the floor. She dug through it, but her cell wasn’t in there. Cursing, she dumped the entire thing on the floor, scrounging through the clothes, but it was gone. Jeremy hurried to her side, but it was another voice, a deep baritone, that sent a strange chill down her spine and froze her.

“Looking for this, Mia?”

Slowly, Mia turned and glared at the man with the scar on his face, her eyes shifting to the cell he held in his hand and realized he had been listening the whole time. “What are you doing with that? Give it back,” she snapped and jumped to her feet. He was taller than her by at least a foot and a half and held it easily out of her reach. “Please, I have to make a call and make sure my friend is okay.”

The man’s blue eyes held her gaze, not blinking or showing any emotion whatsoever. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll give you back your cell if you tell us who are and what happened last night at the pub.”

“Max, now is not the time to be a jackass,” Jeremy said on a sigh. “Just let her have it.”

“No. I stepped in for her, opened my home to God knows what, and I deserve some answers,” he growled and leaned down so his face was even with hers. Mia flinched back a step and a flicker of concern appeared in his eyes before it disappeared. “I think that’s fair, don’t you?”

Her hands shaking uncontrollably and stomach twisting, she staggered backwards. “I can’t, and you can’t keep me here.” She ran back into the living room and shoved her clothes and things back into the duffel. She slung it over her shoulder and moved towards the door. Her hand was on the handle when the man named Max called out to her.

“If you walk out that door, I can’t protect you from whatever you’re running from.”

Her vision blurring, she gasped on a sharp sob and leaned her head against the door. He was right. The second she stepped out that door, she had no way of knowing if she would ever be safe from Keith. Clearly, he had eyes everywhere in the damn city, watching her. Carl might have disappeared from the pub last night, but that didn’t mean he hadn’t followed her or figured out who this Max guy was. Someone could be waiting for her the second she left the safety of the building. The duffel was suddenly lifted from her shoulder.

“Right, you’re not leaving yet, at least not until you’ve had more rest,” Max argued and tried to steer her away.

She flinched away from the touch and he scowled at her. “No I really… I really need to leave.” But leaving meant facing whatever was outside that door. Keith was out there and if he found her once, who was to say he couldn’t find her again? Overwhelmed by fear, her body shuddered and she wavered on her feet until Max caught her and attempted to pick her up. She freaked and backed into the front door to get away from him, but he didn’t move away, only closer. He leaned down so they were at eye level and stared into her eyes. There was no anger there, at least not directed at her, and no intent of harm. He was simply concerned.

“I will not hurt you,” he explained slowly. “Never, but you need rest, so you can either walk back there on your own or I will carry your ass.”

“I’m fine—”

He ignored her and picked her up. She flinched once, but a solid stare from him stilled her body, though she was stiff. He wouldn’t hurt her, she knew it in the way his hands held her delicately and securely at the same time. But still, there was no need for him to carry her like a damn kid.

“Put me down,” she snapped, shoving at the rock-hard chest.

His grip only tightened and he harrumphed as he walked. “You need more rest. Sleep a bit longer if you need to.”

“I don’t need to sleep.”

“No? Then what do you need, Mia?” he asked roughly.

She opened her eyes and glared up at him. “I don’t want to talk about it, alright? Especially not with a complete stranger.”

“This stranger saved your ass last night, if you remember,” he reminded her sharply and turned back into the bedroom she woke up in. “I don’t know what bastards you’re involved with—”

“And you’re not going to know,” she said defiantly as he set her on her feet. She crossed her arms over her chest, ignoring her wobbly knees, and refused to back down. “I don’t trust you, not even if you saved my ass.”

His lips lifted in a leer as he stalked towards her. Mia flinched, and he paused, his face shifting into a blank mask. “Fine, don’t trust me and don’t tell me, but sooner or later, you’ll have to give me answers if you want help.” He tossed her the cell phone, and she barely caught it before it hit the floor. “I suggest you call whoever you need to and then smash that phone.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Precaution. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be around.” He gave her one more solid look-over—not checking her out, but sizing her up. Mia stiffened under that gaze before he backed out of the room and closed the door behind him.

She collapsed on the bed, clutching her cell to her chest as she worked at steadying her breathing before she gave in to a full-on panic attack. The room spun and she groaned, hanging her head. She focused only on her breathing. In and out, in and out. Gina. She needed to call Gina and make sure the older woman was safe. She would be the first person Keith would turn to.

The phone rang three or four times before Gina finally answered, sounding right as rain. “Mia? Where are you? Did Carl show up?”

“No, and I’m not sure,” she said, peering out the window. “It still looks like Seattle.”

“What do you mean, no?” Gina asked, sounding worried. “You sound terrible.”

“It was a long night.” She fell back on the bed and ran through what had happened with Carl. Gina cursed every so often, but when Mia got to the part about waking up in some strange man’s penthouse, she let out a laugh. “How is this funny?”

“It’s not, but it is. You might not have been able to trust Carl, but this man willingly put himself in the middle of a fight to keep you safe and then brought a strange woman to his home for the night,” Gina said. “Take it for what it is. A blessing.”

“A blessing? He’s not the nice guy type,” she muttered and glared at the door.

“So? What’s wrong with a man a little rough around the edges?”

Mia’s mouth gaped, and she wanted to say that was exactly the type of man Keith was, but she clamped her lips shut and sat up. Max was nothing like Keith. He was rude, yeah, and looked a bit like he wasn’t loved much as a kid, but the way he carried her so carefully did not speak of a man ready to take his anger out on her or belittle her. Despite him demanding answers, he did open his home to her last night without question and without even knowing her name. No, the Keith she knew would never do that.

“Maybe you’re right,” she whispered. “He said I should destroy my cell.”

“Does he know about Keith?”

“No,” she said quickly. “I can’t drag him into this mess.”

“Something tells me you won’t have a choice, hon. Listen, you might not want to hear this, but this Max? He might be your ticket to getting the hell away from Keith for good. Do what he says.”

“How will I get ahold of you? What if Keith finds you?”

“He won’t. I’m staying with my niece until I know you’re good and gone, and her husband is a cop two counties over. Let him try and get at me,” she challenged. “You have to cut all ties here so you can get on with your life. That was the plan, right?”

“Right,” she said reluctantly. “What am I going to do without you?”

“You are stronger than you think,” Gina insisted. “You will get through this, I know it. Take care, Mia, and don’t contact me again.”

Mia smiled as tears burned her eyes. “Yeah, you too.” Her thumb hovered over the end call button, knowing this was probably the last time she would talk to her friend, and hit it. She turned her cell over and pulled out the battery and the sim card. She snapped it in half and tossed the whole thing in the trash bin. Gina was right. As much as she hated to admit it, this was the path life had set her on, and now, she had to figure out how to make the most of it.

More awake and less shaky, she realized she hadn’t eaten since yesterday evening. Feeling less nauseated, she braced herself for whatever she might meet on the other side of the door. But neither Max nor Jeremy were in sight. She let out a breath of relief, and kicking off her grubby shoes in the bedroom she vacated, she walked quietly to the kitchen and dug around in the fridge. There were several containers of Chinese food, so she pulled them out, sniffing them and wrinkling her nose.

“With this place, you’d think he could afford a maid,” she muttered and searched for the trash can to toss them out. When she was testing the edibility of the leftover pizza, a phone rang close by but no one answered. Mia ignored it as well until it went to the answering machine. She bolted upright from behind the fridge door.

“Hi, Maxwell. This is your mother, in case you forgot the sound of my voice. Calling to let you know your father and I are back and can’t wait for Monday night dinner, but we’re going to have it at the house. Been a long trip and your father needs his rest.”

“I’m fine, woman, stop exaggerating,” a man’s voice grumbled quietly behind her.

“Hush, Dennis. Tell your wife we can’t wait to meet her! See you Monday night.”

There was a click, and Mia stared, wide-eyed, at the answering machine. “Wife?” she whispered. “He has a wife?”

“How are you doing?”

Mia jumped with a yelp, clutching her chest as she turned to glare at Max. “Thanks for scaring me,” she muttered. “I haven’t had a heart attack yet today.”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “So you’re doing well?”

“Yes, I’m feeling better,” she said. “So much better that I think I’ll be going before your wife comes home and finds a strange woman has cleaned out her husband’s fridge.” Her cheeks hot, she hurried to her bedroom to gather her shoes and duffel, but when she reached the hall, Max held out his arm to stop her. “Look, thanks for bringing me here last night, but I clearly shouldn’t be here.”

“Mia, slow down.”

“No, I have enough issues in my life. I don’t need to add some crazed, jealous wife coming after me.” She waited for him to move his arm, but he didn’t. She considered shoving it, but an image of Keith shoving her made her take a shaky step back and avert her gaze.

“Why do you do that?” he questioned intensely.

“I don’t do anything,” she muttered and hurried past him to the bedroom.

“Mia, I don’t have a wife.”

She stilled. “What?”

“I said I do not have a wife—not yet, anyway.”

“But the message?”

“It’s a long-ass story. Care for a drink and an explanation?”

She should say no and duck out of there, but where would she go? No cell phone, no car, no license. Trapped, that’s what she was, so what was the harm in sticking around for another few minutes? “Fine, let’s hear all about Maxwell.”

* * *

Max poured two hearty glasses of bourbon and slid one across the counter to Mia. She didn’t pick it up, too busy watching him as he sipped his. Mia was not the woman he wanted to be his fake wife. She was timid, refused to tell him the truth, and he didn’t even know her last name. Yet the longer he stared at her, he saw a glimpse of the fight that came out last night at the pub. Whatever she ran from had changed this woman into something she clearly wasn’t meant to be. Besides, he was out of time, and from what he could tell, this woman was out of options.

“I am the only son in my family,” he told her. “Owner of the largest casino chain on the west coast, and I’m supposed to inherit the entire family fortune, all that wonderful high society bullshit.”

“You sound thrilled about it,” she remarked.

“Hush and listen.” He hated how she flinched and her hands fell to her lap at his rough words. “A long time ago, I thought I found a woman who loved me, but she turned out to be a cheating whore. So I dropped her and vowed to never marry. Sadly, my parents won’t stop hounding me until I find a wife, and I have a horrible feeling I won’t inherit everything I’m due unless I am married.”

Mia nodded. “So you lied to your parents and told them you found a wife?”

“Yes. According to Jeremy, I was drunk the night I told them.”

“Last night—is that what you were doing at the pub? Looking to bribe some woman into being your wife?” she asked and burst out laughing. “You were going to buy a damn wife!”

He gulped his bourbon and set his glass down heavily, startling her into silence. His gut twisted into knots, wondering what this woman had been through to make her so damn skittish. “I was, yeah,” he admitted. “And I never found one because I was too busy saving your ass.”

Mia pushed her tongue against her lip before she shot back the bourbon, wincing and coughing as it went down. She hopped off the stool and marched towards the bedroom again. He watched, wondering what she was doing, and wanted to kick himself when she came back with her shoes on and the duffel slung over her shoulder.

“Thanks for the drink,” she muttered. “I won’t mess up your life anymore.”

Max wasn’t going to let her leave, not when she was his only shot at finding a wife. He rushed to the door and blocked it with his body. Mia glared at him, but she instantly backed away. “Wait, all right? I didn’t say I wasn’t happy to step in when I did.”

“Oh no? You sure have a funny way of showing it.”

He rolled his eyes heavenwards and wished Jeremy was here. He was the charming one. “I think we can help each other.”

“How’s that? Aren’t you worried you’ll have to save me again?”

“Listen, smartass, you might not want to tell me what the fuck happened to you, but that guy at that pub? Whoever he was taking you too? Clearly, you don’t want to go back, and by walking out that door, you’re putting yourself at a hell of a lot of risk you could avoid.”

“And how am I supposed to do that?”

He licked his lips and puffed out his cheeks. “I never found a wife last night.”

Silence fell between them as she digested his words. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I don’t kid much.”

“You don’t say,” she snapped. Her duffle hit the floor at her feet. “What exactly are we talking about here?” She shook her head and paced away from him. “No, what am I even saying? This is crazy! I can’t marry a complete stranger, and neither can you.”

“Why not?” He followed her at a distance. “There’s no law against it.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she whipped around to stare him down. “You want to marry me, just like that, without getting to know each other?” Fear haunted her eyes again, and her whole body stiffened. “You can’t trust me and I sure as hell can’t trust you.”

“Maybe not yet,” he admitted, holding up a finger, “but you don’t look like the type to steal from me or try to murder me in my sleep, so I’ll take my chances.” He meant it as a joke, but she paled even more. “All I’m proposing is that we have a mutual agreement that helps us both. I need a wife and you, whether you want to admit it or not, you need someone to keep an eye on you.”

“Marriage was not my first idea.” She hung her head, muttering under her breath. Cringing, she asked, “What are the terms you had in mind for this agreement?”

“Simple,” he said, hopeful. “We would elope tomorrow and agree to remain married for four years.”

“Four years?” she repeated loudly. She took a deep breath and motioned for him to go on.

“There would be no expectation of intimacy, of course, just acting like a normal couple in front of family,” he assured her. “Bearing that in mind, we’d have to work something out.”

She held up her hands. “You can go get your action wherever you want it,” she said, adding under her breath, though loudly enough for him to hear, “I’m used to that shit.”

“You could work if you wanted, or not. I’ll set up an allowance for you to use at your leisure,” he stated, “and at the end of our four-year agreement, we have a nice, simple divorce. I’ll send you on your way with a severance package of sorts and that will be that.”

Mia walked around the perimeter of the living room, paused near the windows, and stared out over the city. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” he said and walked slowly towards her.

“No other expectations?”

He rubbed his forehead, wondering what she might mean. “Children?” She blanched, but nodded. “You’re safe there. I’m not about to throw that in the mix,” he swore. He wasn’t going to deny he had dreamt of being a dad, but right now, he only had to get through his life one day at a time. If he could do that while married and keep doing what he did now without the worry of any fallout, that was enough for him.

“Good, because I… uh, I can’t have them anyway. Kids, I mean,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

A twinge of concern flickered in his mind. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Yeah, shit happens.” She turned to face him. “Look, I know you have questions about my past, and eventually, I might tell you.”

“No, you will tell me. That’ll be part of the agreement,” he insisted. “It doesn’t have to be soon, but I’m willing to open my life to you. I expect the exact same from you.”

She clenched her jaw as she straightened. “If you really want to know.”

“I do,” he said and took another step closer. “I want to know why you flinch when I raise my voice or a hand, or when I suddenly step closer to you. Why you look like a rabbit caught in a trap all the time. I saved you, and like I said before, I deserve some damn answers.”

“Aren’t you the gentleman?” she snarled, but her voice shook.

“No, I’m not,” he divulged. “I’m the furthest thing from a fucking gentleman you’ll find in this whole city, but for better or worse, you look like you’re stuck with me.”

Max wished deep down he could be that man. Suave and handsome, say the sweet things and flirt, but he had been a blunt, hard kid and hadn’t changed. After the accident, he turned into an even harder man and assumed the personality of the man people thought he was before he ever opened his mouth. The scar defined him—or it had with everyone but Mia. He knew without a doubt that she saw him when she looked at him, not the scar.

When she still looked uncertain, he held out a hand for her to shake and waited patiently for her to take it. Hesitantly, she slipped her petite hand into his larger one. “We may not always get along,” he warned her, “but I swear on my life I will never hurt you, Mia. You’re safe with me. You can trust that.”

She held his hand tighter in hers. “Destros.”

“What was that?”

“Mia Destros. That’s my full name.” Her stormy grey eyes rose to meet his, and a streak of defiance appeared in their depths.

“I’ll have my lawyer draw up papers. In the morning, we’ll go shopping, and you will be Mrs. Maxwell Ward by tomorrow night.” He released her hand reluctantly, and the subtle shift to her body said she was growing uncomfortable being so close. “You sure this won’t be a problem—to act like you love me around family?”

She smiled brightly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I’ve played a happy woman for longer than I can remember, Max. Don’t worry about little ol’ me.”

“I won’t,” he muttered. She strolled away, grabbed her duffel, and disappeared down the hall. The door shut more loudly than was necessary, and his body hunched forward as he buried his hands in his pockets. Now he had a last name. After he called the lawyer to draw up the papers, he’d do a little digging on her and see what he could find. Then he’d hit the gym on the floor above the penthouse and work off his sudden, pent-up energy.

He’d spent barely a full day with Mia, and already, he cared about her, wanted to know what she was hiding from and why she’d had to spend her life playing the part of a happy woman. The fear in her eyes told him one thing: as soon as he learned the truth, he would be hell bent on tracking down this person and ensuring he ruined his life as much as the fucker had ruined Mia’s.