Page 21 of The Marriage Playbook

She had to get her head back in the game. “When the door opens, make sure you’re smiling,” she breathed. “Don’t look at the camera. We need this to seem as if we’re so caught up in each other that we’re not even thinking about the camera. That’s just something the PR people put up. Maybe they didn’t even talk to us about it—but regardless, we aren’t thinking about it. We’re too in love. We’re only thinking about each other.”

“Right,” Liam murmured wryly.

They’d reached the end of the aisle. The doors were opened from the outside, making it seem as if they were swinging open automatically, by magic. Cara had a moment to wonder how the doormen could have known that they were coming. There must have been some pre-arranged signal. She hadn’t been the one to organize that…but she had used Liam’s budget to pay for the luxury package on this wedding venue.

Even at church, it seemed, being rich could get you some perks.

What would it be like to actually be married to Liam Sims?

As they stepped through the doors, a man with a camera positioned himself in front of them. In spite of the instructions she’d given, Cara froze, able to do nothing but stare into the lens.

Liam took her by the hand and pulled her firmly toward him, so that they were facing one another. He caught her gaze and held it, eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

She gave him the slightest nod, hoping he would understand by it that she’d remembered what they were here to do. She held his gaze and did her best to keep her smile as sincere as she possibly could.

And then it was over. The photographer moved out of the way and they continued to the front door, then out and into the car that sat waiting for them.

As the car started to move, Liam closed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, exhaling slowly. Cara could see the tension leaving his body, and it made her somewhat jealous. Her own tension wasn’t going anywhere. In fact, it only seemed to intensify as the car rolled toward the hotel where the honeymoon suite had been booked.

This was a part of the plan. A part of creating the image they needed to establish. Liam and his bride were supposed to spend the next few days sequestered in their suite, which had separate rooms—though they would do their best to hide the fact that they weren’t really cohabitating. They would order room service, and occasionally one or the other of them would step out of the room and offer something cheeky to the staff to give the impression that everything was proceeding romantically inside. That had been the plan.

Was it still?

Everything was the same, except for the fact that Cara had taken the role of bride. But did that mean she was going to have to stay with him in the honeymoon suite?

Well, I can hardly leave. That would give rise to all sorts of questions, especially now that their photos had been taken and would shortly be released to the public. Everyone was going to know about this marriage now. It was too late to turn back.

We just have to get through this.

They still hadn’t spoken to one another by the time they reached the hotel, which surprised Cara. Surely Liam had some questions he wanted to ask. He must want to know why he was now married to Cara, and not to Stephanie.

But he said nothing, and the car came to a halt. He hopped out without addressing her, came around to her side, opened the door, and extended his hand.

Hesitantly, she took it and allowed him to help her out.

He leaned close to her and breathed in her ear, “Upstairs. Then we talk.”

Then he burst into a loud laugh, as if today had been the merriest day of his life. “Let’s get upstairs,” he said, his voice a bit higher pitched than it had been in the car. He wore a massive grin. Cara could hardly believe this was the same person she had been in the car with. It was as if he had turned into someone else.

Who is the real Liam? This happy guy? The angry man who came charging into the firm and demanded a solution to all his problems? What if the real Liam is the man who hit his teammate? What if we’ve done all this to try to protect a man who doesn’t deserve our protection, and now I’ve tied myself to him?

She swallowed hard, forced herself to laugh along with him, and followed him to the elevator that would take them up to their penthouse suite.

The ride was long, and once more, it was silent. As soon as the elevator doors slid closed, Liam transformed back into the man he’d been in the car. When they opened again, depositing the two of them in their suite, he walked out, ignoring Cara altogether, and went right to the minibar.

She’d had enough. “Liam,” she said. “We have to talk about this.”

He turned back to face her. His face had settled into deep lines of anger—not the rage he had worn that day at the office, but something steadier. Oddly, it alarmed her much more than his fury had.

“Was this always the plan?” he asked her quietly.

“I… What do you mean?”

“Were you always going to marry me? Was Stephanie just a plant so that you could make it down the aisle yourself without anyone stopping you or putting up an argument? Because you knew that if you got me that far, I was going to have to go along with it?”

“And why would I do that?” Cara’s own anger began to bubble up. Everything had happened so fast that she hadn’t had time to feel it, but she was feeling it now. “I didn’t want this any more than you did, Liam. Why would you think I would?”

He folded his arms. “You wouldn’t be the first girl to try to get close to me for the money or the fame.”