Page 74 of Temporary Vows

I’m nervous as all hell, so nervous my stomach hasn’t stopped doing backflips, but nothing has felt terrible so far.

That says quite a lot given the fact that I’ve agreed to not only marry Dorian Vale, my brother’s ex-best friend, but also have his children.

I guess I just traded in one catastrophic situation for a lesser evil. I’m just glad I’m not dead. The life I was living last week was no way to live.

Still, I know the road ahead of me is going to be a tough one. And I don’t even know when I’m going to see Dorian next.

My phone buzzes in my pocket before I can take another step. I retrieve it and frown when Jack's name fills the screen for what has to be the millionth time. Just like all his previous calls, I send it to voicemail.

I don’t want to speak to him. I don’t want to argue, and I don’t need anyone to reason with me. My mind has been made up, and anyone who wants to drag me back to the hell I experienced last week can go to hell themselves.

Besides, as of this morning, I’m bound by contract.

I officially signed my agreement to Dorian’s offer hours ago. He sent his assistant—Albert—to deliver the contract and a whole bunch of other paperwork, which included an NDA that blew my mind. Everything was designed to lock me in, and I agreed to it all.

I have a copy of all the documents in the box I carried up. I'll go through them again later.Properly.

I read enough this morning to know the important clauses and specific timelines.

I have to admit that one clause caught me off guard.

Neither party is to engage in relations that will cause personal or public embarrassment to the other.

I smiled at that, even though Dorian had spun my request to include me, too. It was only fair and understandable he’d want the same assurance in return. But he didn’t have to worry about me. I couldn’t be with anyone outside my marriage. Even if the marriage wasn’t real.

I’d see it as cheating, something I abhor.

I’d be no different from my father, but unlike my mother, Dorian wouldn’t care.

I walk over to the shelves and run my fingers along the side.

I’ve never met anybody like Dorian Vale. It was like he was completely incapable of showing any form of emotion, as if he had no soul. If not for that kiss at the Dark Odyssey and the way he handled Marcus, I’d believe it.

It makes me wonder what he’s like with women he actually wants to be with. Women like Grace.

Then again, Grace Astor looks like she belongs on the cover of every fashion magazine. She has the kind of elegance that can give any Hollywood starlet a run for her money. Of course, even Dorian wanted to be with her.

I turn away from the shelves and drift toward the window. The beach stretches beyond the glass, its pale sand and blue water gracing the shoreline. The sight should be soothing, but it’s not.

The papers are still talking about Dorian and Grace. The fact that I missed that scandal says everything about the state of my mind.

After Dorian told me about it, I went home and looked it up. The details came up quickly, and I could see why he was worried about his reputation. And why his father had been furious.

The press believed his affair with Grace gave her husband—Montgomery Astor, New York’s golden saint—the heart attack that killed him.

I saw other articles reporting that Dorian and Grace were seeing each other after he died, but I don’t know if that’s true. As Dorian said, he can make the public believe whatever he wants.

I’m not so sure that’ll work when it comes to me. People aren’t stupid. They’ll take one look at me, see I’m nothing like Grace, and know I’m a gimmick created to smooth things over.

Skylar walks into the room just as I’m slipping my phone back into my pocket. “Jack again?”

I roll my eyes and shift. "Yes. You know him. He won’t stop until he speaks to me." That said, we’ve never had a fallout that matters as much as this.

She bites the inside of her lip and stops a few paces away. "When are you going to speak to him?"

"Not anytime soon." I sigh. "I just can’t with him right now."

I sit on the edge of the bed. The mattress gives under me in a way that my old one never did—soft without sinking, and all the springs…