Page 30 of Pregnancy Clause in Their Paper Marriage
He didn’t want to let her down, he thought heavily, most of all, but it might be that he wouldn’t be able to keep himself from it...just like before.
CHAPTER TEN
‘SO,YOUNEEDto be someone different.’
Her hands folded on the desk in front of her, Lana gazed at the geeky young tech wizard who was in her office on Albert’s recommendation. Thirtysomething, awkward and shy, pushing his glasses up with his forefinger, with a rather endearing stammer and a nervous blink. He’d developed an app that was poised to become huge, and he needed the image to go with it.
‘Yeah, that’s the plan.’ The man, Jack Philips, gave her a quick, uncertain smile. ‘Albert said you specialise in helping people make their mark.’
‘Well, that’s pretty much the point of PR,’ she replied with a smile. ‘Your company is new, but it’s already generating some serious buzz. We can work with that, especially with a digital campaign. A personal element also works—maybe a spotlight feature in one of the newspaper’s cultural supplements to highlight who you are?’
‘Yeah, that might not work out so well,’ Jack said with a grimace. ‘My life is pretty boring.’
‘Well, we can make it more interesting.’ That was what she did—help people to shape their pasts, their whole selves, to be what the world wanted. It was what she’d done for herself, aged twenty-two, after she’d left Anthony and the firm where she’d interned, determined to be different, better, stronger. She knew she could do it for this guy.
He frowned, not understanding. ‘How would we make it more interesting?’
‘It’s all in the information you reveal, the particular slant you find,’ she explained.
‘I grew up in New Jersey, the third son of a housewife and an insurance salesman,’ he said, raising his eyebrows. ‘How can you make that more interesting?’
‘I can make anything more interesting,’ Lana promised him. She loved this part of her job—sculpting and shaping a person’s public profile to maximum effect. She didn’t deceive or even stretch the truth; she was just judiciously sparing with what details she shared, very precise with the angle she allowed to be used. If she managed to snag him a feature in one of the country’s major newspapers, she would be very careful indeed with how he was presented.
‘Techwunderkinderare a dime a dozen,’ she informed him. ‘So, we need to find another angle. Something a little mysterious, enigmatic, maybe.’
He shook his head. ‘But I’m really not enigmatic.’
She laughed. ‘You will be. Trust me, Jack. I can handle this. I’ll get back to you in a couple of days with some initial thoughts and ideas.’
Still looking dubious, he murmured his thanks and rose from in front of her desk. When he’d left her office, Lana spun towards the window to gaze unseeingly down at the view of Rockefeller Plaza. She and Christos had been enjoying their new arrangements for almost two weeks. Two weeks tomorrow, in fact, which was why her stomach was tightening with both anticipation and nerves. If, miraculously, she was pregnant on the first try—well, theirmanytries—then she could potentially take a pregnancy test tomorrow. There were a few tests out there that could be taken even sooner, but Lana hadn’t wanted to deal with the painful disappointment of a false negative.
When she and Christos had talked about even the possibility of a baby, that little bundle of cells, she’d felt such an ache of longing, it had nearly made her breathless. She wanted this. She wanted it even more now that she knew what married life—realmarried life—with Christos was like.
The last two weeks had, frankly, been incredible. While her days had remained busy with work, her nights had been spent in bed with Christos, discovering delights she had never known existed, learning his body as well as her own in a new and entirely delightful way.
But it wasn’t just those sex-soaked nights, Lana knew. It was everything else, too. It was evenings spent on the sofa, answering emails, her feet in Christos’s lap. It was the cup of coffee he handed her when she came downstairs in a rush. It was stepping out of the shower and seeing him wink at her in the mirror or chatting about their workdays over glasses of chilled Chardonnay.
It wasn’t, however, anything more than that. Itwasn’theartfelt conversations, or sharing intimate personal revelations, or saying anything remotely emotional. Yes, Lana could acknowledge that what they did in bedfeltemotional, or at least intimate. She felt more connected to Christos than to any other human being, ever. But as long as that sense of exposure, a revealing and acceptance of self, stayed in the bedroom, she was fine.Fine.
And really, it was all good. She was grateful to Christos for showing her how things could be between a man and a woman when it came to physical intimacy, because when she thought of how Anthony had treated that aspect of a relationship...well, everything in her curdled and cringed with guilt and shame. Sex, for him, had been a way to both dominate and humiliate her. With Christos it had been a shared experience of pleasure, and exploration, and joy.
Yes, she was very grateful to him for teaching her that, over and over again. But not, she thought, of teaching or showing her anything else. Because while she was glad she’d developed in that area, she still wasn’t willing to risk her heart. To love someone, to let them in that much, give them the power, not just to humiliate her, as Anthony had done, but tohurther.
Already she sensed Christos could have the power to do that, if she let him, which was why she was standing by her word that she wouldn’t. And as long as she held to that line, she’d be fine. Their marriage would be great.
Lana let out a long, slow breath, a smile curving her lips as she turned from the window to get ready for her next meeting.
By six o’clock that evening, she was heading back home with a spring in her step. Amazing how she looked forward to heading back to the house that had always felt, while a haven, an empty one. She’d always liked how she’d been able to let her hair down—literally—and be herself in her own space, but she was starting to realise how much better it was to do that in the company of another person.
Having Christos see and accept her—and even find her sexy and beautiful—in her sweats was far better than simply lounging around in them by herself. It was a discovery that had the power to knock her for six, if she let it. She chose not to. She was gliding on the surface of things, smooth and easy, and she suspected Christos was, too. He certainly hadn’t attempted to plumb any emotional depths, far from it. This marriage, as it currently was, suited them both, which was exactly what she wanted. Everything was absolutely great.
So why, sometimes, when she let herself, did she feel a twinge of unease, a flicker of restlessness? Lana chose not to dwell on it. Gift horses and all that. She just wanted to enjoy what so far had been wonderful...and not think any further than that.
‘Hello, beautiful.’ Christos greeted her at the door with a kiss and a smile; he had made himself at home in her brownstone, which Lana found she liked. He’d only brought his clothes, laptop, and a few books, and yet even so it was nice to see his things scattered around. She’d asked him if he’d minded leaving his loft apartment in Soho—a soaring space of metalwork and glass—and he’d shrugged and said they could hardly raise a family in two separate abodes.
Well, they could, Lana knew, but it wasn’t the way they were choosing to do it. Sometimes she wondered if they were a little crazy, to live this normal-seeming life, without any of the emotional attachments. What if it all blew up in their faces?
‘Hello,’ she replied, and kicked off her usual stilettos with a groan of satisfaction. ‘Good day at work?’