The Ashtons - Cole, Abigail & Megan

whirled as she tried to think about a year from now and saying goodbye to Simon.
    Pain, sharp and swift, jabbed at her and she swallowed hard. If, after two weeks, the thought of leaving Simon was painful, how much worse would it be after a whole year?
    Oh, God.
    Phoebe was probably wrong about Simon’s feelings—after all, he’d shown no signs of wanting anything more from Megan than he had when he’d proposed.
    But, the older woman had been dead on target about one thing.
    Somehow, over the last two weeks, Megan Ashton Pearce had fallen in love with her husband.

Chapter Ten
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    T he third week of Megan’s marriage was radically different from the first two.
    Those first couple of weeks, she and Simon had had his big house all to themselves. They’d had a little time to get used to each other. To get used to the idea of being married—and then they’d had time for other things. Lots of other things.
    That first night of lovemaking had opened the door to more amazing nights than Megan would have thought possible. They’d made love in practically every room—even once on the stairs. They’d taken long showers together and shared cozy, intimate meals together in the kitchen. Just the two of themin that big house, they’d never worried about privacy or having someone overhear their conversations.
    But that was all different now.
    Now, their full-time cook was ensconced in the kitchen, so there were no midnight refrigerator raids. There were maids in and out of every room in the place, so there were no make-out sessions on the sofas. There was a full-time gardener, so there was no more lovemaking under the trees in the backyard.
    “Not that there was much chance of that now anyway,” Megan muttered. After all, Simon was spending more and more time at work and less and less time with her. He left home early in the morning and often wasn’t home until ten or later. It was as if he were trying to avoid being at the house—or rather, being with her.
    Megan wrapped her arms around her middle and stalked around the confines of her bedroom. The house, despite being full of people now, felt empty when Simon wasn’t there.
    Despite what his mother Phoebe had had to say at the restaurant the week before, Megan was sure that her new husband was regretting this temporary marriage. Her heart ached just a little, but she put a stop to that really fast. She had no right to be hurt—or disappointed.
    This marriage was just what it had started out to be. A convenience. A pretense, with good sex. No one had said anything about happily ever after. No one had mentioned the word “love.” No one, including her, had anticipated their feelings changing.
    She stopped at the wide windows overlooking the backyard and the hill that rolled on down through the valley. Plopping down onto the wide cushioned window seat, she stared out through the glass at the darkness beyond. She hadn’t bothered to turn any lights on in the bedroom. But there was a low fire burning in the hearth, more for atmosphere than warmth, and the flames were reflected in the glass. The sky overhead shone with pinpricks of light and the moon slanted a spotlight down onto the manicured gardens below.
    Resting her head against the wall, she let her gaze wander the darkness while her mind raced over too many thoughts at once. The newspapers were still hounding the Ashton family—apparently there were no fresh scandals anywhere else to knock them off the front pages yet. Spencer had closed himself off from everyone, refusing to talk about Alyssa Sheridan or the boy. Simon kept assuring Megan that her father’s troubles didn’t bother him—but how could she believe that?
    “It’s your own fault,” she murmured, tracing one finger across the cool glass. “Who the hell told you to fall in love with your husband?”
    Stupid.
    Simon wasn’t interested in love. He’d made that clear the day they’d been so hastily married. All he’d been looking for was a way to keep his family and his company free of scandal. A one-year marriage. Strictly business.
    But now scandal had found them anyway and Simon…damn it, she could tell. He was distancing himself from her. She felt it. Even when they were in the same bed, even when he was holding her or sliding his body into hers, she felt him pull away. And she didn’t know how to stop it—or even if she should try.
    So she couldn’t very well add to the wonderful blend of misery by admitting she’d gone and