CHAPTER 4
A soft knock sounded at the door. Emma smoothed her hands down the elegant ivory wool coat she wore and took a deep, calming breath before answering. Here we go, she thought, feeling a mix of nerves and determination settling in her stomach.
When she pulled open the door, James Reynolds stood on the other side, a stormy scowl on his face. His brown hair stuck up in messy tufts, his tie hung crookedly, and his suit looked rumpled, like he'd thrown it on in a hurry against his will. Which, Emma reminded herself with an inward sigh, he likely had.
"You're late," she said evenly, keeping her voice polite and friendly despite his disheveled, sour-faced appearance. No need to let his foul mood rub off on her own mood.
James's glare deepened at her words, his thick brows pulling together as his eyes looked her up and down in clear disapproval. With a sharp wave of his hand, he muttered in a curt tone, "Yeah, traffic was brutal. Let's go."
Instead of getting annoyed by his curtness, Emma simply stepped aside to let him enter. As he brushed past her into the hallway, a faint whiff of his cologne wafted around her - a warm, spicy scent blended with zesty citrus notes. Despite his messy look, the fragrance was surprisingly pleasant.
She forced the thought from her mind. Surely an ill-mannered lout like James Reynolds simply doused himself in the cheapest, strongest cologne he could find. No point dwelling on how nice this particular scent happened to be.
Lifting her chin, Emma led the way to the waiting town car parked outside, resisting the urge to glance back at him over her shoulder. She could feel the weight of his hostile glare boring into her back like a physical force as she walked, and she rolled her shoulders in an attempt to shake off the uneasy prickle it sent down her spine.
As the driver opened the car door for her, Emma paused to allow James time to follow her inside. But he stayed put, openly scowling at her with undisguised contempt twisting his chiseled features.
"Can we at least try to be civil?" he bit out through gritted teeth as she slid into the smooth leather interior. His jaw ticked with barely restrained irritation. "Just for a few hours, before the insults start flying?"
Emma blinked in surprise, her delicate brows arching upwards. She had been nothing but courteous and polite to him so far. His confrontational attitude seemed completely uncalled for.
Rather than rise to his rudeness, she decided to take the high road. With an inward sigh, she reminded herself to stay calm and unruffled no matter what petty insults or boorish behavior he tried throwing her way.
Drawing on her deepest reserves of patience, she regarded him with a composed, faintly arched brow, keeping her expression coolly unruffled. "I'm sorry, am I not being civil enough for you?" she asked mildly, unable to resist the faintest undercurrent of dryness in her tone.
She spread her hands in a placating gesture as James clambered into the seat beside her with a huff, careful not to lean away from his looming presence. "Here I was, doing my best not to criticize your rather disheveled appearance."
Her eyes strayed over his mussed hair, loosened tie, and wrinkled suit with pointed disapproval before she caught herself, lips pressing together. "But you do make it harder when you look like you've just rolled out of last night's gutter."
Fire flashed in James's eyes and his jaw clenched hard enough to make the muscles protrude. Emma immediately regretted allowing herself to get baited into making such a catty comment, no matter how he might have provoked her. So much for remaining completely composed and aloof.
Pressing her lips together firmly, she sternly reminded herself not to rise to his childish behavior again, no matter how obnoxious he chose to act. Kill him with kindness, as the saying went.
Unfortunately, James seemed determined to test the limits of her resolve. He looked away with an audible scoff, his attention fully consumed by his phone as his thumbs flew over the screen, utterly dismissive of her presence.
"At least one of us has to be a damn adult," he muttered venomously, enunciating each vicious word with sharp precision.
Emma felt a flare of hurt and indignant anger spark within her at his snide remark, her sense of decorum and self-worth stinging from the insult. Still, she fought back the urge to snap at him, simply lifting her chin as she firmly tamped down the rush of wounded feelings.
"An adult?" The surprised laugh slipped out before she could stop it, though she quickly gentled her tone back into mildness. "My apologies, James, but which of us actually holds down a job? Because where I'm from, hard work and dedication to one's responsibilities is the mark of true maturity."
Her earlier sense of disapproval compounded as her eyes raked over his rumpled, uncaring appearance once more. All the unfair stereotypes she'd once harbored about spoiled, lazy rich boys seemed unfairly epitomized in this one man before her.
"You, on the other hand, give the impression of someone who simply bounces from one self-indulgent whim to the next without any sense of purpose or drive."
"That's enough!"
James's furious roar exploded through the car, making Emma flinch. She shrank back instinctively as he turned on her, his eyes blazing with scarcely-restrained fury as all veneer of civility combusted around them.
"I won't let you insult me like that!" he snarled, his large frame practically vibrating with rage. "I don't give a damn what messed up ideas you have about me. The truth is, I've agreed to this whole ridiculous setup."
He slashed a violent hand between them. "So let's just do whatever we have to do and get it over with!"
Emma opened her mouth, struggling to find her voice to defend herself against his blistering tirade. She felt heat flooding into her cheeks, humiliation and hurt swirling sickeningly in her stomach at the venom in his scathing reproach.
But he ruthlessly barreled on before she could speak, not letting up for an instant.
"But let me get one thing straight," he growled in a lethal undertone, each syllable clipped and precise as a whipcrack. "My reasons are my own business, and they sure as hell don't come from any desire to be tied down to your bitter, miserable self!"
The cruel words sliced through Emma's carefully cultivated poise like a barbed lash, making her flinch as if struck. She felt her throat tighten painfully, a wave of shame and dismay crashing through her defenses to leave her reeling.
James's searing scorn cut straight through to her core, awakening every insecurity she harbored about people seeing her as nothing more than an ice queen. Cold, distant, unfeeling - just as he'd accused.
Struggling to draw breath past the leaden lump swelling in her chest, Emma somehow found the strength to meet his blazing glare head-on. Despite the humiliation scalding her from the inside out, she refused to let him see the depth of his callous words' impact.
"Believe me," she managed, her voice emerging far softer and shakier than intended, "my reasons for agreeing to this affair have absolutely nothing to do with any desire to be tied to...to you."
She snapped her chin up a fraction higher, fighting to regain her crumbling dignity even.
Forcing his jaw to unclench, James leveled her with a haughty look of feigned indifference. "Then we appear to agree. This is a calculated move, nothing more."
With a single, sardonic nod, she resumed staring out her window as if he no longer existed. "Indeed."
James followed suit, staring out his window. Mercifully, the main event of their evening had yet to begin.
He could only pray the night ended with them both still standing, and that whatever insanity was driving him to propose would soon pass.