Chapter Two

 

Full disclosure need not be given on matters that happened before parties met, do not pertain to the other party, and/or do not violate any other clauses in this agreement.

Especially if those matters regard Arthur Pendragon.

Clause 8- Privacy and Disclosure

 

Possession and relief hummed through Midas, once he had the woman trapped in his private sanctum.

Guinevere’s gaze scanned around the interior of the room.  Like the rest of his home, it was decorated in the most expensive, lavish furnishings in Camelot.  Massive pillars lined the muraled walls, layers of silk curtains dripped from the stained-glass windows, and a desk the size of a small kingdom dominated the center.  No palace in the world could match its opulence.

It was the best.

“This is quite… large.”  Gwen said cautiously, her gaze on the frescoed ceiling and the two-ton chandelier.  The multi-colored crystals dangling from it were as big as bowling balls.  To Midas’ way of thinking, bigger was always better.

“Thank you.”  He took a seat on his chair, which had a twelve foot high back and was made of wood from four separate species of extinct trees.  “Lay your child down and have a seat.  You must be exhausted.”

She hesitated, putting the gun back in her pocket as she looked around.  Her gaze scanned the overstuffed sofas.  All of them were covered in exotic leathers from the remotest lands.  All of them had cost a fortune.  “Um…  We’re very wet.”

Of course they were.  Camelot was always gray and rainy. It had been like that for years, but overly dramatic Arthur supporters swore that the land itself was mourning its lost ruler. Others insisted that the blue sky would only return when Camelot finally had a true king. Someone worthy, who was more interested in justice than Uther or Arthur had been.  No matter the cause, the foggy, dreary weather seemed far too harsh for beings as delicate as Guinevere and her daughter.

“Maybe you should put a blanket down first?”  She continued.  “Or…”

Midas cut her off.  “It’s fine.”  He could always buy more couches, but queens were a far rarer commodity.  “Please.”  He picked up a remote control and clicked on his two-story high fireplace, in case she was cold.  The mantle was made of yellow bricks.  Damn Munchkins had charged him an outrageous amount for each and every one, but they were the best.

Guinevere gave him an odd look and then hesitantly placed her daughter on the thick cushions.  She brushed the girl’s hair back from her face with a gentle hand.  Gwen was clearly attached to her child.  A Bad child.

Why?

Midas frowned in confusion.  He genuinely didn’t understand it.  Good parents never gave a damn about their Bad offspring.  It was the way of the world.  Maybe her affection was an act.  Or maybe Gwen tolerated her because they looked alike.  Both of them were blonde, with elegant features, lake-blue eyes, and long bones.

Avalon.  That was the girl’s name.  Arthur’s only child.

Allegedly.

The girl’s paternity didn’t much matter to Midas.  He had every intention of having Gwen in his home, so it appeared Avalon would be staying with him, too.  He frowned.  What he knew about children was… nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

“I’m sorry to arrive unannounced, like this.”  Guinevere said again, straightening up.  “And for shooting Percival at your party. As I said, I knew he was following me, but I didn’t know he was so close.  I didn’t mean to ruin your evening.”

“You haven’t ruined it.  Believe me.  What kind of business did you want to discuss?”

She crossed the massive expanse of room to sit in the monumental chair across from him.  The damn thing nearly swallowed her, but she still managed to arrange herself like she was about to hold court.  “Well, maybe you’ve heard, but the Scarecrow is trying to steal my kingdom.”

“I’ve heard.”

“He wants me to marry him.”

That Midas hadn’t heard. His eyes narrowed.  Anyone who knew him would have been shocked by the small display of anger.  “Somehow I don’t see you as a happy couple.  The man is made of birds, isn’t he?  The smell alone must be off-putting.”

“The Scarecrow will never be my husband.”  The words were cold and certain.  “But he wants me to put the sheen of legitimacy on his coup.  Whoever marries me will be the king.”

“Yes.”  Midas had read Camelot’s constitution, just to get an idea of all the laws he broke.  One of the more obscure regulations concerned the line of succession.  He’d never really considered the details closely before, but he recalled them all to the letter.  Midas remembered everything he read.

“The Scarecrow is a lunatic, but he was Arthur’s top adviser and he’s the smartest man in the kingdom, so many Good folk are loyal to him.  They’re supporting his cruel ideas.”  She tiredly rubbed her eyes.  “They won’t see reason.  I don’t understand it.”

Of course she didn’t.  This woman fearlessly stood against all the King’s Men, armed with nothing but an antique gun.  Midas studied her for a long moment, wondering how long her idealism would last in the face of reality.

“Who says the Scarecrow is the smartest man in Camelot?”  He finally asked.

“Everyone.  Arthur conducted a test of all the noblemen in the court.  He only wanted the brightest minds by his side.”

Midas made a noncommittal “umm” sound.  Arthur had certainly needed all the help he could get when it came to ruling.  Camelot was nearly bankrupt under his ham-fisted management.  A kingdom was a business, after all.  Arthur had run it like an irresponsible idiot, with no eye to the future.

“Of course, as I said, he only screened Good people...  Who were men...  And nobles.”  Guinevere made an irritated face that was really quite delightful.  “I told Arthur that was shortsighted, but he refused to listen.”

Midas did his best not to look thrilled over her criticism of Camelot’s Golden Son.

“Anyway, they played a round of catur.”  She paused.  “Have you ever played that?”

“No.”  Catur was a chess-like strategy game taught only to the high-born elite.  They were expected to play and master it from the cradle, as part of their training to rule empires.  Bad folk weren’t even allowed to own one of the boards.  Apparently, Gwen didn’t know that and he saw no profit in telling her.  “I read a book on it once, though.”

She shrugged.  “Well, the Scarecrow won the game, easily.  Aside from Chryson, the wizard, he’s the best player in the kingdom.  So Arthur made him his chief councilor.  Now he’s moving in on the throne.”  She met Midas’ eyes.  “I’m going to make sure he loses.”

“I believe you.”  What could ever stop such a woman?

That lake-colored gaze met his levelly, trying to decide if he really was just a tawdry, feral animal or something more. Thinking it over one last time before she told him why the hell she was sitting in his office.  Midas waited, while she mentally weighed him, afraid to even move for fear of ruining his chances with her.

“I need your help.”  Guinevere said after a long pause.

…And Midas released a breath he hadn’t even been aware he was holding.  Whatever it was she’d been looking for, she’d apparently seen it in him.  He had no idea how that was possible, but he wasn’t about to question his good fortune.

“You are the only person with the resources and power to fight the Scarecrow.”  Guinevere continued.  “He might be brilliant at political maneuvering, but that’s the only game he knows.”  She arched a brow.  “You’re not a politician.  You’re a criminal.”

“Yes.”  There was no sense in lying about it.

She nodded, pleased with the simple answer, for once.  “So am I, now.  I’m almost-Bad.”

It was cute that she thought so.

“Maybe,” Midas allowed, “but I’m all the way Bad.  What makes you think I won’t just steal Camelot for myself?”

“You have a reputation for keeping your word.”

That was true, but it still didn’t explain her willingness to give herself into the “evil clutches” of a man Arthur had publically and repeatedly called a “mindless gorilla.”  The things her sainted husband had said in private were no doubt even more colorfully quotable.

“I haven’t given you my word about anything.”  Midas reminded her.

“Not yet.  But, someone told me that you’re a kind, gentle, and honorable man.  That I should come here and you’d help me.

Midas squinted.  “Were they taking drugs at the time?”  He couldn’t imagine anyone sober telling her something so stupid.

“I very much doubt it.”  She tugged on her sleeves and smoothed a wrinkle in her ancient dress, like somehow that might help it be less hideous.  She still wore Arthur’s wedding band on her left hand.  It glinted as she fiddled with the worn fabric.

The sight of the gold ring set Midas’ teeth on edge.

“Well, no one who knows me would ever say that.”  He assured her.

She gave him an arch look, like she didn’t believe that.  “I’m sure you need to keep up your reputation as a villain…”

“I am a villain.”

She kept talking.  “But I know that you and I can strike a fair deal.”

Ah… that was more like it.  No matter what craziness brought her there, she wanted to deal and he was ready.  No one could match him in business, certainly not this small, baffling woman.   Midas steepled his fingers, feeling like a spider must when a butterfly was caught in his web.  “I’m listening.”

“Instead of marrying the Scarecrow, I will marry you.”  Guinevere said bluntly.

…And Midas’ smug confidence in how this meeting would proceed vanished.

“What?”  He blurted out, trying to catch up.  It was another uncharacteristic lapse in control, but this time he didn’t even notice.

Gwen didn’t seem to take offence at his astonished tone.  “I will marry you, giving you the king’s crown.”

Midas blinked.

“Legally, the throne is mine, but I need the Congress of Wizards to back me.  And they will.  My father knew them all.  But the Scarecrow is going to try and stop them from supporting me.  He hates the wizards.  He wanted to go to the academy and they turned him down, so…”

Midas impatiently cut her off. “Go back to the part where we get married.”

“Right, well, you said yourself the Bad folk will support me as queen.  They’re the majority of the population.  And I know I can get the wizards on my side.  I just need some power and money to make sure the Scarecrow doesn’t stop me before I win.”

“And I’m the power and money.”

“Exactly!  Once you have the king’s crown, that son of a bitch Scarecrow will lose his only ticket to legitimacy.”  Somehow, she even made cursing sound classy.  “You will be my husband.  He’ll have to win through open rebellion and even most of the Good folk will dislike that idea.”  She gave a firm nod.  “That’s the deal.”

Midas tried to think.

He’d been prepared to pay a fortune just to have her at his side.  This was beyond his expectations.  Way beyond.  Guinevere would no longer be Arthur’s wife.  She would be Midas’.  He’d own her so completely that not even his biggest detractors could deny his claim.

Holy shit…  The deal was too good to be true.

“I’ve thought it all through.”  She persisted, when he didn’t respond.  “I’m a very logical person.  Very organized.  I used to draft all my father’s contracts for him, so I’m an excellent negotiator.  I guarantee, this will be a good bargain for both of us.”

Midas’ head tilted, watching her carefully for some sign of deception.  “How do you know I’m not an even bigger son of a bitch than the Scarecrow?”

“Someone told me you’re not.” She ran a hand through her damp hair.  “Besides, nobody else will even try to help me contact the wizards or keep my crown.”  She paused.  “The wizards are all sealed in the Emerald City, ignoring us, you know.”

“I know.”  The wizards had left Camelot to its own devices years before.  They were safely sealed behind their giant green walls, playing catur and writing spells.

“So typical of them to pout right through the war.  They’ve been in a snit, ever since Arthur…”  She trailed off and sighed.  “Never mind.  The point is, I’ve asked everyone I ever thought was my friend for assistance.  They’ve all abandoned me.”

He wasn’t surprised.  “Friends” were a product, like anything else.  You had to buy them.

“Galahad would have been by my side,” she continued in a wistful tone, “if Arthur hadn’t banished him.  He was always there for me.  Truly, he was the greatest knight in the kingdom.  And he adored Avalon.  I have to find him, as soon as it’s safe.”

Midas’ barely held back a snarl, already detesting the man.

“Anyway, I was desperate and I thought of you and I got the idea for this trade.”  She tugged on her sleeve and Arthur’s wedding ring gleamed.  “Not to brag, but I’m a very logical thinker.  You give me a safe place to win my throne and I’ll give you a crown.  It’s a fair deal.”

“Who says I want a crown?”  He retorted, unwilling to show just how eager he was to strike this bargain.  It all seemed too damn easy.  “Especially a crown to this kingdom.  Recently, Camelot’s property value has plummeted.  Seems like a risky investment.”

“Risky investments are the ones with the biggest payoffs.”

“And the biggest risks.  It’s right there in the name.”

Guinevere leaned back against the chair, rubbing at her eyes.  “Look, I’m too tired to play games.”  She really did look exhausted.

And beautiful.

God, she was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.  It was hard to focus on anything except how much he wanted her.  He didn’t give a rat’s ass about Camelot, but he’d do whatever it took to have this woman.  Even save this shithole kingdom, if that’s what she wanted.

“I haven’t slept in three days.”  She went on.  “Let’s just bottom line this, shall we?”

“By all means.”

“Good.”  Guinevere nodded, her expression intent in spite of her weariness.  She might look like she spent her days eating bread and honey, but she really was a fighter.  “I see you, Midas.  I see this gigantic trying-too-hard house, and all those sycophantic guests, and these phony paintings that someone must have told you were genuine.”  She waved a hand at an ugly landscape that had cost him two golden geese eggs.

He frowned.  “They are genuine.”

“They’re not.” Her voice was ruthless, in a way he had to appreciate.  “But you want them to be.  You want to buy yourself some respectability, right?  Prove you’re not just a sleazy hoodlum, living in a nice zip code.  You want the things money can’t buy.”

“Money can buy anything.”  He was more sure of that than ever.  Fuck the naysayers.  He was presently purchasing himself some class, a kingdom, and a True Love all in one pretty package.  There was nothing in the world you couldn’t acquire if you offered a high enough price.

“It can’t buy you everything.”  She sounded naively certain.  “But I can get the rest of it for you.  In return, all you have to do is keep my daughter safe.”

Midas’ attention slipped back over to the child.  How was she not awake, yet?  He couldn’t imagine sleeping so deeply.  It was baffling.  Did she really have so much faith in her delicate mother to look after her?  Good parents never guarded their Bad offspring from the monsters of the world.  Did she not know that?

Apparently not.  …And neither did Guinevere.

She followed his gaze.  “Avalon needs to be protected and you’re the only one in Camelot who’s strong enough to do it.”  She said quietly.

Just that fast, Midas understood why this deal was so delightfully one sided:  Because Guinevere wasn’t like other Good parents.  Her feelings for Avalon weren’t an act or grudgingly given because the girl happened to look like her.  Her love for the child was real and vast and unconditional.  He could see it on her face.  Gwen would strike any deal that provided a safe haven for her baby, even if it meant coming to the Kingpin.

This woman wasn’t heartless, at all.  This woman was the only truly Good person left in the whole dismal kingdom.

Hell, that made his bargaining position even better.

“I have to make sure my daughter’s safe.”  Guinevere murmured, her gaze still on Avalon.  “No matter what.”

Her devotion to the girl was admirable, but mystifying.  “Not many people would fight so hard for a Bad folk, even if she is their own child.”  He knew that firsthand.

Guinevere’s head snapped around, lake-blue eyes blazing with anger.  “Meaning what?”

Uh-oh.  Midas hesitated, afraid to say anything for fear she’d storm out.  He’d just screwed up.  He could tell, although he wasn’t sure how.  He’d been giving her a compliment.

“I don’t care what the Scarecrow and his bigoted flunkies say,” she continued hotly, “Good and Bad mean nothing.  It’s what’s inside someone’s heart that matters and my daughter has the purest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.  People will see that, once they get to know her.”

Midas’ eyebrows soared.  Jesus, Guinevere sounded like Scarlett Riding-Wolf, with all her Villains’ Rights protests.  They were both kidding themselves if they thought Good folk would ever willingly give Bad folk anything.  It would be a fight for every inch of ground.

“If you intend for the child to rule Camelot one day, you’d better be prepared for a war.”  He told her honestly.

“I’m already at goddamn war!”  She shouted, her face flushed with passion.  “There’s me and Avalon on one side and the rest of the kingdom on the other.  Now, do you have a problem with my daughter being Bad?  Because if you do, we can just stop this negotiation, right now.”

“Of course not.”  He spoke carefully, unsure what kind of minefield he’d stumbled into.  The child was clearly a sensitive issue. “You’re both welcome in my home, for as long as you wish to stay.”  Avalon belonged to Guinevere and Guinevere belonged to Midas.  That was all that mattered to him.  “It makes no difference to me what she is.  I’m Bad myself.  We already established that.  I’m hardly going to be prejudiced against my own kind.”

She didn’t seem mollified.  “Avalon is wonderful.”

“I have no doubt.”  He agreed dutifully.  For no reason he could imagine, he found himself compelled to add:  “I doubt she’ll like me, though.  Very few people do.  Is that going to matter to you?”

“My daughter matters more than anything else in the world.”

Shit.

“Well, why don’t I just stay away from her, then?”  He offered.  It seemed like the safest course.  The child couldn’t be frightened of him if she didn’t see him.  And if she wasn’t frightened of him, then Gwen wouldn’t be upset with him.  It was win/win all the way around.

“If that’s what you want, fine.  Avi will want to talk to you, at first.  She’s very curious, but she’s used to men ignoring her.  Just be patient and she’ll eventually ignore you, too.”

Midas frowned, not liking the way that sounded.

“Do not yell at her, though.” Guinevere continued, her voice getting harder.  “That’s not even a point of negotiation.  Do not hit her.  Don’t be cruel to her or I will make you suffer…”

“I wouldn’t harm a little girl.”  Midas interrupted, annoyed for the first time.

She glowered at him.  “I’m serious, Midas.”

“So am I.  I won’t hurt her.”  It was a vow.  “You have my word.  I just want you to understand that I’m not good with children.”  At least, he didn’t think he was.  He’d never actually spoken to one.  “Don’t expect us to bond.”

Gwen frowned, measuring him, again.  This time she wasn’t sure she liked what she saw.  “This might not work.”  She blurted out.  “Maybe we should just stop.”

Shit, shit, shit.

She couldn’t leave.  Not when he’d just found her.

“I will keep the child safe.”  Midas tried, desperate to appease her.  “But, I’ll probably scare your daughter if I talk to her.  That’s all I’m trying to say.  I’m big and Bad and…”

She cut him off.  “Do you like rocking-horseflies?”

“What?”

“Rocking-horseflies.  Do you like them?”

Midas hesitated.  “I love them.”  He said, wondering why this was important to her, but willing to go along with it.  “I built my garden just to attract them.”  It was his way to make amends.

She exhaled like that meaningless fact reassured her.  Somehow he’d just passed another test, but it had been a very near miss.  “Thank God.  For a minute I wondered if I was wrong about coming to you.”

Midas’ tension eased, seeing that she intended to remain in his home.

“Okay.”  She cleared her throat.  “You just ignore Avalon, then.  Don’t talk to her and everything will be fine.”

That’s what Midas had wanted, but it still felt like a rejection.  Who could blame any woman for keeping her baby away from a tawdry, feral animal, though?  “Yes.”  He agreed quietly.  “I’ll ignore her.  Just tell me what kind of toys and clothes she needs, so I can buy them first.”

“You don’t have to buy Avalon toys, Midas.”

“But, she needs toys.”  He argued, unable to help himself.  Children liked toys.  At least he remembered yearning for them, when he was a boy.  Watching the other kids play with balls or toy soldiers and wishing he had one of his own.  He glanced at the little girl, dissatisfied with the idea that she would experience any kind of deprivation.  “I don’t see the harm in buying her a doll.  It will bring her comfort.”  When he was young, before his parents left, he’d slept with a sock stuffed with sawdust, just so he’d have something to hold at night.  It had made him feel safe in the darkness.

Gwen chewed her lower lip, her desire to make her daughter happy warring with her pride.  “I guess one doll wouldn’t hurt.  We had to leave everything behind.  I can pay you back for it, after I’m queen again.”

Midas somehow restrained himself from rolling his eyes, unwilling to even argue over something so ridiculous.  He could buy every doll in existence and barely notice it on his counting house statements.  “We’ll discuss the reimbursement issue later.”

“Okay.”  Gwen nodded, like it was settled.  “Thanks for being so generous.”

Midas shrugged.  Buying things was easy.  Maybe if he bought them enough, Gwen and her daughter would be happy with him and decide to stay.  No price was too high to have the best.

“And just so you know, I can be a very good wife.”  Gwen continued, back to selling him on her plan.  “Marriage is kind of lackluster. To be honest, I wouldn’t try it again, if I had another option.  But I’m used to it, so I’ll do a good job.”  She tilted her head.  “Have you ever been married?”

“No.”

“Well, overall, it’s just so…” she shrugged, like she couldn’t think of a better way to describe it, “lackluster.”

“Lackluster.”  He repeated.  “Interesting.”

She hesitated, like it suddenly occurred to her that “lackluster” wasn’t the best adjective to use in convincing him holy wedded bliss was a terrific idea.  “But I mean, I’m still a very good wife.  Really.  I’m very skilled at running a castle and I make a wonderful pecan pie.”

The woman said the damnedest things.  “I don’t know…  Now, you’ve got me thinking I might prefer a single life.”  He mused, still not willing to show her his enthusiasm for this bargain.  “I do enjoy pie, but I already hire people to do my housekeeping.  I’m not a man whose life lacks luster.”  He gestured to the gilded furnishings around him.

“But our marriage isn’t a real marriage.”  She backpedaled.  “It’s a fake marriage.”

Midas’ eyes narrowed.  “A fake marriage?”  He didn’t like that phrasing.

“Well, it would be a legal wedding and all, but it’s primarily a business deal.  We won’t have all the messy, illogical problems of an actual couple.  It will be so much simpler.  We can negotiate all the points of the Contract, so there are no surprises.”

“With you, I have a feeling there will be endless surprises.”  Every word out of her mouth was unexpected.

“We can negotiate that part, too.”  Guinevere clearly loved drafting deals.  She’d tack on all the provisos he wanted.  “We’ll put it right in the Contract.”

“Are you going to write an actual contract for us?”

“Just a little one, with the basic stuff outlined.  It’s all very logical.  I’ll specify no more than three surprises a day.  That’s fair.”  She lowered her voice, just in case Avalon could hear.  “And I am excellent at turning a blind eye to… um… whatever other activities you want to engage in.  Really.  Your affairs can be completely your own.”

She wasn’t talking about his business affairs.  “You don’t care if I fuck other women?”  He summed up just to watch her jaw drop at the course phrasing.  She’d better get used to cursing, if she planned to “fake” marry him.  Midas’ vocabulary had been developed in the sleaziest parts of the kingdom and he doubted he could clean it up now.

“I’m merely saying that we can have separate lives.”  Gwen sputtered.

Clearly, this was her roundabout way of telling him she didn’t want to share a bed.  Huge surprise.  “How much do you know about me, Guinevere?”  He held up his palms.  “About my curse?”

“Um…”  Her eyes went to his shrouded fingers and stayed there.  “I guess just the usual rumors…”  She trailed off nervously when he began stripping off the black leather gloves.

“It’s not a rumor.  When my hands touch something living, it turns to gold.  Animals.  Plants.  People.  It’s irreversible.  One brush of my fingers and they become twenty-four karat, all the way through.”

To prove his point, he plucked the borogrove blossom from his tuxedo jacket and dropped it to the desk top.  The delicate red pedals were solid metal before they even stopped falling.  The flower clanged heavily against the wooden surface, frozen forever.

Guinevere couldn’t seem to look away from it.

“Now, do you really think,” Midas continued calmly, “that I sleep with many women?”

Midas already knew he and Guinevere would never so much as kiss.  She wouldn’t want to (obviously) and it seemed like a terrible idea to reveal just how important she was to him.  It was no secret that Baddies were pretty much helpless in the face of their True Loves.

Everyone was born with a True Love.  Their other half, who they’d been made to share their lives with.  Bad folk usually knew their True Love on sight.  And, unlike many Good folks, they were fanatically possessive and protective of their mates.  To them, the connection was soul-deep, right from the beginning.

On the other hand, Good folk couldn’t identify their True Love until they’d slept with them.  Even when they did know, their feelings seemed far shallower.  Gwen was in the dark about their connection.  Midas wanted to keep it that way.  If she discovered the truth, she’d just use it against him.  Why wouldn’t she?

Everyone was looking for an advantage.

Guinevere didn’t have to strike a deal with Midas, at all.  He was going to keep her safe regardless.  Anything else would go against every instinct in his body.  Which meant he wasn’t telling her jack-shit about their True Love match.  Once she knew, she’d take the protection he offered and leave him with nothing.  There was no way he was giving her that kind of power.  Keeping control was the key.  Midas was a businessman and this was just like any other deal.

Except his heart was pounding out of his chest, just from looking at her.

Guinevere considered the revelations about his golden touch for a long moment.  “How did it happen?”  She finally asked.

“I didn’t read the fine print of a contract.”

“Can it be cured?”

“No.”

She studied him for a beat, processing that.  “But, it’s just your hands?”

Once again, Midas was caught off guard.  “What?”

“Just your hands turn people to gold?  The rest of your body can touch… things?”

He frowned.  “Yes, it’s just my hands and, as long as I keep the gloves on, I can live fairly normally.  Still, few women would want to take the chance.”

Guinevere snorted.  “Oh, I’ll bet it’s not that difficult for you to find companionship.”

“I don’t pay for sex.”  He assured her, assuming that’s what she meant and not taking offense.  There was no sense in being angry about the truth.  Money was the only attraction he held for women.  It hadn’t taken him long to figure that out.

Guinevere was wrong, though.  He’d buy anything else, but he’d preferred to be alone rather than have someone pretend to want him.  Midas couldn’t abide imitations.  He was even planning to get rid of that ugly landscape she said was a fake.  No way could he tolerate some insincere bedmate.  Just the idea annoyed him.

He’d have nothing at all before he settled for less than the best.

Lake-blue eyes blinked like Guinevere was surprised by his words.  “No, I didn’t mean that.  I meant you probably have a lot of girlfriends, because you’re so attractive.”

Midas’ eyebrows shot up.  No one had ever called him “attractive” before, mostly because he wasn’t attractive.  He’d never be mistaken for a handsome prince who honorably defended fair maidens.  Midas was far more likely to be the barbarian at the gate, threatening to burn down the whole fucking town if his demands weren’t met.

Gwen’s cheeks turned pink under his incredulous stare.  “Sorry.  Crap.  That just kinda slipped out.”  She cleared her throat nervously.  “Sometimes I can be --um-- slightly too direct.  My father called it ‘a little bit brash around the edges.’  It’s --like-- something comes into my head and I just,” she shrugged, “say it.”

“I see.”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.  Sometimes I make people uncomfortable.  Are you feeling uncomfortable?”

“I’ll survive.”

“I was just saying that I’m sure a lot of women want to sleep with you.”  She continued blithely.  “You’re much more appealing than I even expected.”

“Thank you.”  He cleared his throat, wondering if he’d ever had a weirder conversation.  “Well, if I need sex, my appealing self can find it elsewhere, then.”  He would never sleep with another woman.  He knew that.  Now that he’d met Gwen, everyone else was second best. There was no sense in explaining that, though.  It would just give her more power.  “We don’t need to consummate our arrangement.”  Midas put his gloves back on.  “Satisfied?”

“Yes, it’s very reassuring to know you could kill me if we shake hands.”  There was a bite to her tone now, like she was irritated.

He had no idea why.  He’d just agreed with her.

“I’ll leave you alone.”  Midas reiterated, in case she still wasn’t convinced of his sincerity.  “You have my word.  So, unless you want to seduce me, I think you’re safe.”  He arched a brow. “Obviously, if you have physical needs you’d like me to assist with, we can negotiate that into the Contract.”

She rolled her eyes at the sarcasm.

“And if it makes you feel any better, I haven’t accidently killed anyone in years.”  He paused and figured they might as well put all their cards out on the table.  “Speaking of which, you might be okay with me cheating on you, but I am not okay with you cheating on me. You can underline that in our Contract.  All you’ll end up with is a golden statue of the unlucky guy.”

Her lips compressed.  “So, you’ve heard rumors about me, too?  That I was unfaithful to my husband?”

“Yes.”

“And you believe them?’

“I don’t care what you did with Arthur.  Just don’t do it with me.”

Guinevere snorted, as if he’d said something epically stupid.  “Don’t worry.  I’m hardly in the mood to date.”  She crossed her arms over her chest, the sleeves of her peach dress inadvertently tugging away from her hands.  “Sex is even more lackluster than marriage.  Truthfully, I’m over the entire idea of romance.  It’s impractical, illogical, and unpredictable.”

“Very true.”  Look at what True Love was doing to him.  Twenty minutes with the girl and he was ready to start a war.  Still, her pragmatism was a good sign.  The last thing Midas needed was a lot of phony sentimentality from her.

Gwen pursed her lips.  “You’re not worried about having an heir?”

“No, I’d be a terrible father.  I barely had one myself, so I’m completely unprepared for the job.  Like you said, I’m a criminal.  You want to kill the Scarecrow, I’ll help you.  Raising a child, though…?”  He shook his head.  “I have very little to offer.”

“I haven’t really worked out the specifics of how to kill the Scarecrow, actually.  I’m not sure what weapons are effective on a man made of hay.”

“Fire.”  Midas suggested.  Years of toiling as a stable boy told him that a lit match worked just fine to destroy straw.

Gwen brightened for a moment.  “That’s what I was thinking!  I was going to use an invisibility cloak to help me sneak up on him and give it a try, but I waited too long.  They locked me up in the dungeon.”

A dark rage moved within him.  “The dungeon?”  His eyes slipped down to her wrists and he realized that was why she kept fiddling with her sleeves.  To hide the bruises that encircled her pale skin.

Son of a bitch.

Gwen followed his gaze and sighed.  “It took a while to pop the manacles open.”  She admitted.  “I finally had to use the underwire from my bra to pick the lock.”

It took everything in Midas not to lower his eyes to her perfect breasts.  “Resourceful.”  He managed to get out.

“Thank you.”  She smiled at the compliment.  “I used the invisibility cloak to help me escape.  I had it on me, but they didn’t see it, because it was --you know-- invisible.  Then I grabbed Avalon and the gun and ran.  My father had a home close by, so I know this area.  I could avoid the search parties.  It took me a few days, but I made it here.”

“To me.”  It wasn’t a statement so much as a purr.

“To you.”  She chewed her lower lip.  “So…  What do you think?  About the deal to marry me, I mean.  Will you agree to it?”

“Yes.”

Her lips parted in shock at the instant reply.  “You’ll agree to this arrangement?”  Gwen clarified, like she might have misheard him.  “Really?”

“Yes.”  Nothing in this world or any other could keep Midas from his True Love.

“And you’ll protect Avalon?”  She persisted.  “That needs to be a clause in our Contract.  No matter what happens, you have to make sure Avi’s safe.  I have your word on that?”

“You have my word that I’ll protect both of you.”

“Alright then.”  She studied him closely.  “Do you want to add any clauses of your own?”

“No.”

Blonde eyebrows compressed, as if she disapproved.  “Well, you should.  What if I try to slip in something underhanded?  You need to be prepared.”

“I’m sure you’ll give me fair terms.”  This woman wouldn’t be able to pull off anything “underhanded” if her life depended on it.  She was the bluntest creature he’d ever met.  “You’ve driven a hard bargain, but I’m convinced we’ve reached a fair compromise.  Let’s just move onto the next step.” His only concern was getting her to say “I do” as quickly as possible.

“You need to be careful about contracts, Midas.  You said yourself, it’s how you got cursed.”  Apparently, his decades of professional villainy weren’t enough to convince her he was able to take care of himself.  She looked concerned for him.  “Tell you what, I’ll go over everything with you before we sign.  Contracts can be complicated.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you.”  Midas gave up trying to understand the woman.  He balanced the receiver between his shoulder and ear, busily dialing.  “In the meantime, I’ll just summon a wizard to perform the wedding ceremony.”

That shifted her attention.  “You mean you want to get married, right now?”

“Do you see a reason to wait?”

“No, but…”

“Neither do I.”  He wanted her name next to his on a long and formal marriage scroll, so she couldn’t escape him without one hell of a fight.  That was the only contract he cared about at the moment.  If he waited, she might realize that he was getting the far better deal and try to escape.  Midas needed to make this happen now.

Guinevere let out a long breath, still confused.  “Why was this so simple?”  She asked, her big blue eyes clouded with exhaustion and something like relief. “I thought it would take ages to convince you.  Why are you agreeing to this mess so quickly?”

“You’re just one hell of a negotiator.”