The morning came soon enough, and Almasi was more tired than ever when she woke up. As the sunlight leaked in through the guest bedroom window, Almasi gazed around. This was her life now. Huh. She sat up in bed and stretched, yawning widely. Then she noticed a silver tray on her vanity table with a little note. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Reaching toward the note, she observed that it was written in beautiful silver, cursive script.

Miss Quinn, the note read, welcome to your first morning in Adamson Mansion. Breakfast will be served to you in bed at eighty thirty. If you are awake before then, ring the bell on your bedside table, and Beatrice will come attend to you. Your humble servants, the staff of Adamson Mansion.

Wow. Breakfast in bed? Almasi could never have dreamt of such a thing. She could only remember having breakfast in bed once; as a child, she had fallen very sick with pneumonia, and she had been bedridden for nearly a week. But in fine health? A capable person ought to sit at the table like anyone else. Well, she imagined she might as well get used to this lifestyle sooner or later.

She looked at the clock on the wall. It was 7:45. She thought about ringing the bell, but decided against it. She wasn't hungry yet, and she still had plenty of time to reflect quietly on her own.

So Almasi leaned toward her bedside table and reached for her diary, which she had left next to the silver bell which she honestly had not noticed the night before. It was time for her to do some more writing, to doc.u.ment this crazy morning in her even crazier new life.

Jacob woke up feeling a little disoriented. Why was he in his parents' old room? He then remembered the events of the previous day, and shook his head in wonder. This was such a strange arrangement. Who could tell what might come of it? He also remembered that it was his wedding day. His stomach sank a little. He, Jacob George Adamson, was getting married. Now that was an unexpected turn of events. Well, it was only for a month. He pictured Almasi's face and smiled. This was going to be a pleasant month for him. He hoped she would be happy, too.

Jacob got up, put on a big, fluffy white robe, and strode quietly to the bathroom across the hall. There was an en suite for the master bedroom, of course, but something about that made this experience a little too surreal. Instead, he opted to use the one that had been his as a child. He opened the door and stepped in, feeling that familiar soft carpet between his toes. Ah. A sanctuary of normalcy in this hectic couple of days.

After taking a long, hot shower and drying himself off with the softest towel he could find, Jacob donned his robe again and made his way back to the master bedroom. As he was walking, he thought he heard a sound coming from one of the guest rooms. He remembered that that was where his bride was staying, and he crept quietly to the door and listened. There was a scratching sound, like a pen on paper. What was Almasi doing writing at this time of day? Jacob Adamson's wife should not have to worry about work on the day of her wedding.

As far as he knew, she didn't even have any work. The internship had been canceled, right? Then why was she writing? He decided to go see for himself, so turning the doork.n.o.b carefully, he silently propped the door open a couple of inches and peered inside.

Almasi was sitting on her bed, focusing too intently on the book in her hand to notice her groom staring at her from the doorway. The book she was writing in looked simple enough; it was small, with a dark leather cover, and some tiny pattern engraved in it that Jacob couldn't make out from far away. There was a tiny silver lock on the side, and he saw a matching silver chain glinting around Almasi's neck and plunging into her night dress.

A diary, then. Well, he would let the woman have her secrets. Diary writing was not an improper activity, and it would probably give her some much needed s.p.a.ce in what must be a terribly confusing household for her.

Jacob silently shut the door and turned to walk back to his room. The room that would soon be their room. What an odd thought that was. He settled back into his bed, opting to have another half hour of sleep before ringing for his breakfast. Unlike at his penthouse, where he found breakfast in bed to be a little too fussy, Jacob enjoyed staying in bed at the mansion. He tucked himself under the covers and closed his eyes. Ah. He really was home at last. It was a shame he would have to go back to his normal life at the end of the month.

Almasi finished her diary entry for the morning and, carefully closing and locking the book, placed it back on her nightstand. Then, after thinking for a moment, she decided to open the drawer and put it in there. It would be safer that way. She touched the key, which rested just between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, next to her heart. Her secrets, the wedding and the money and all of her innermost feelings, were safe there. She was safe.

There was a quiet knock on the door, and a maid entered with a tray of food. This must be Beatrice, thought Almasi.

"Good morning, Miss Quinn," said the maid. "I have here some toast, pancakes, and a bowl of fruit for you. The bacon and eggs are coming right up. Would you like your eggs scrambled? Fried? Over easy? Hard boiled?" The maid was fairly young, probably about Almasi's own age, and she had a friendly and patient air about her. "What would you like, Miss Quinn?"

"Oh, um... scrambled would be fine, thank you," said Almasi. This was amazing. Not only did she have her own maid now, and breakfast in bed, but she was even being given options on the minutia of these gifts. Talk about being served on hand and foot!

"Absolutely, coming right up," said the maid. She brought the tray over to Almasi and placed it on her lap. "And just to let you know, your personal stylist will be here in about an hour to help you pick out an ensemble for the engagement photos. She can help you with your makeup and all that, too.

As for your hair..." the young woman looked at the sleeping scarf of Almasi's head and trailed off. "I have no idea if she has ever worked with your, um, texture before." She sounded apologetic, bashful even. "But I'm sure you'll figure something out!"

Almasi laughed dryly. White people were so cringe-worthy, yet still kind of funny when they got uncomfortable talking about race. It was just hair, for crying out loud. "Well, I have worked with this texture every day of my life, so I'm sure I can deal with it myself. But thank you for letting me know." She smiled at the maid, who smiled back self-consciously. "You can go get the eggs now, Beatrice."

"Oh, of course! Right away, Miss Quinn." And then, quick as a flash, the maid disappeared out the door.

I could get used to ordering people around, thought Almasi. For the time being, she started on her toast and fruit slices. Beatrice would be back in ten minutes with the scrambled eggs and bacon.

After her breakfast had been eaten and her tray had been cleared away by Beatrice, Almasi heard another knock on the door. "Come in!" she said. It was, to her surprise, Yifeng, the girl from the previous day's limousine excursion.

"Almasi!" exclaimed Yifeng, who ran to hug her. "Guess who's going to style you up? Me! I'm going to be your stylist from now on!" She was grinning from ear to ear, and Almasi couldn't help but grin back.

"Okay, first things first," said Yifeng enthusiastically. "What do you want to wear for the engagement photos? I wouldn't recommend that you go with white, because that is just so boring, and it's not the wedding. Not yet, that is. Oh my G.o.d, I'm so excited! Aren't you excited? It's going to just be a small little ceremony. I won't even get to be there. But then you'll be married! Can you imagine?"

Hardly, thought Almasi. Out loud, she said, "I know!" and then added, "I think the yellow dress would be nice."

Yifeng positively beamed. "I love yellow! And that dress makes you look like an elegant sunflower. So tall, so beautiful. It's completely perfect, because Mr. Adamson is tall as well. You two really are the perfect couple. It must be so romantic." Yifeng smiled dreamily, and Almasi just nodded, hoping the other woman would fail to notice her mild discomfort at the subject. "Now, let me open up the wardrobe, and we can get started!"

Within half an hour, Almasi was dressed and ready. Then came the matter of her hair. Yifeng apologized in advance. "I've worked with lots of different textures of hair, but never anything like yours. Most of the black women I've attended have had relaxers."

"That's fine," said Almasi, and she meant it. "I've got enough experience for the both of us." So she showed Yifeng how to work with her tight curls, and then everything was set and ready for the engagement photos.

"They don't want to cause too much of a media stir, so the photographer will just be taking you and Mr. Adamson out to the back of the mansion property. There are lots of gardens there. Pretty sunflowers," she added, "just like you. I have no idea why everything about this is so hush hush." She saw the expression on Almasi's face and laughed. "Oh, there's no need to worry! I would never ask you anything. If you need to keep things private, that is totally your prerogative."

Almasi smiled. "Thank you," she said, quietly and earnestly.

"Hey, that's what I'm here for." Yifeng took her hand. "Now come with me, I'll show you the way to the back garden!" And with that, Almasi was led out of her guest room, down the stairs, and out into the bright summer day.

Jacob stood out by the door, feeling a little nervous. It didn't help that Mrs. Nettle, the bridal consultant, was fussing over him so much.

"Where is that girl?" she clucked. "We need to pick you out a pocket square that matches her dress, and I've heard nothing from that Yifeng yet. Does she never use her d.a.m.ned phone?"

Just as Jacob was about to respond with some plat.i.tude or another, the door opened, and out came Almasi. She was beautiful, as he had come to expect by now, but his breath still caught for a moment. His reverie was interrupted by Mrs. Nettle's fussing.

"Yellow? I was not informed that I was supposed to bring the selection of yellow pocket squares!" she exclaimed. "Yifeng, have you lost your mind?"

"Ma'am, I-" Yifeng began.

"She wasn't responsible for the dress choice," interrupted Almasi. "I was. And I think it looks beautiful. In any case, why does everything need to be so perfectly matched?" She strode confidently over to the pile of pocket squares on the table, ignoring Mrs. Nettle's squawk of disapproval. After a moment, she lifted up a bright orange pocket square. "Look, see? This complements the st.i.tching on the bodice."

Almasi was right. Interesting, thought Jacob. She may be a little too strong-willed for Mrs. Nettle or the Ghanaian visitors' taste, but she does always seem to know what she's saying. Not that he knew much about fashion, nor did he particularly care, but he had to agree that the selection Almasi made was smart. He glanced at his watch. It was time for them to get going. "If that problem is solved, we should be on our way, then," he said, and he took Almasi's hand and began to lead her to the spot where they were going to meet the photographer.

"Thank you again, Yifeng," called Almasi. "And Mrs. Nettle," she added. Yifeng smiled and waved, and Mrs. Nettle gave her a surly, half-nod. That would do, thought Almasi. She had plenty of time to get into the woman's good graces.

Jacob and Almasi walked about a quarter of a mile down a lush hill covered in healthy emerald gra.s.s and clover. The photographer was to meet them at the gate. When they got to the bottom, Almasi caught site of the beautiful garden below. As Yifeng had mentioned earlier, there were indeed lots of sunflowers. Almasi could also see petunias, pansies, a few hydrangea bushes, lavender, lamb's ears, a bright and colorful bed of tulips, and some wild violets peeking along the sides.

There were even what looked like red and black currant bushes, and around the corner was some milkweed, which would attract b.u.t.terflies in August. This was like being in Heaven on Earth. Almasi turned to look where she was going, and she caught Jacob watching her with a rather peculiar expression on his face. "What?" she asked.

Jacob blushed. "Oh, it's nothing," he said. "I was just thinking... you really did make a fantastic selection with the dress and with matching the pocket square. You blend into the garden here as if you were a flower yourself." And not just any flower, the queen of them all. Jacob wanted to add that last bit, but he was afraid that it would come off sounding strange, since he still barely knew this woman he was complimenting so poetically already.

So he kept the thought to himself, instead. He looked ahead, and saw the photographer waving. He waved back, and put his arm around Almasi's waist. It was show time.

The photographer was a middle-aged man with a large bald spot and sweat stains at the pits of his white dress shirt. He looked cheerful, if a bit overheated. His nose was peeling from what was probably a bad sunburn on his face. Almasi was immediately thankful that because of her dark skin, she could never get burnt like that. It looked uncomfortable, not to mention really, really gross.

In spite of his unappealing appearance, the photographer was energetic and enthusiastic, and he bounded around as he found places for Jacob and Almasi to pose, shouting out commands as he went. They posed standing, sitting, smiling, holding hands, and at one point, kissing, their lips pressed together for the very first time. "Put some more pa.s.sion into it, lovebirds!" cried the zealous photographer.

"You would think you two have never kissed one another before! She is a woman, d.a.m.n it, not a prop!" At that last statement, Almasi raised her eyebrows and glanced at Jacob, who could no longer contain himself, and the two of them began to laugh hysterically. Later, when the prints were all completed, there would be a beautiful shot of the happy couple laughing together. It was the best picture from that whole day, and it would be the one selected to be framed and put on the mantel in the foyer.

Just as Almasi thought that there could be nothing more to do, that they had exhausted every possible wedding photo pose and then some, the photographer said, "Okay, get down on your knee, lover boy. It's ring time!"

At first, Almasi was confused. Ring time? What did that mean? Then she realized. Jacob was pulling a small box out of his pocket and he moved to kneel down in the gra.s.s in front of her. Almasi's breath caught in her throat. She hadn't expected this to happen. This made everything suddenly all so... so real. He opened the box, and she saw a white gold ring with three gemstones: a large blue one in the center, and two smaller white gems. They sparkled brightly, and Almasi realized that they were tiny diamonds.

"The company is out of stock of the larger diamonds," explained Jacob. His voice lowered so the photographer couldn't hear what he was saying. "That's part of the reason why this k.u.mi deal is so important," he explained. "But I thought you would like the sapphire." He looked up at her so earnestly, his eyes so blue like the gem on the ring.

"I love it," whispered Almasi. "Thank you."

"I am so glad," said Jacob, smiling widely. He stood up and slipped the engagement ring on her finger as the photographer's camera flashed rapidly. "My bride deserves all of the happiness that I can give her," he added more loudly. He looked into her eyes, and...was it just the glare of her dark brown eyes gleaming in the sunlight, or did he detect tears welling in them?

This woman was good at playing her role, he thought. She had even had him convinced for a split second. He made a mental note to ask Jeremy if they had the funds to give her a raise on the amount they had promised her. She was doing this so well. She truly deserved to prosper from this arrangement.

When the engagement photos were finally over, and the photographer had packed up his equipment and gone on his sweaty way, Jacob looked at Almasi and said, "Lunch?" Almasi nodded.

It was well past 2:30, and she was used to taking her lunch break at 1:00, or sometimes even as early as noon. So Jacob and Almasi made their way out of the garden and back to the mansion. They were greeted by a maid when they got to the door, and she ushered them into the dining room for lunch. Unlike the previous night's dinner, this conversation was lively between Jacob and Almasi.

The two of them had finally bridged the gap between awkward co-conspirators to... well, something resembling friends, maybe. They peppered their language with terms of endearment, phrases like "darling," and "dear," "my precious," and "my love," and Almasi thought to herself that this felt a lot more natural than before. It felt... actually, it felt pretty sincere.

As she looked across the table, she found her heart welling with fondness at the sight of Jacob. No, she told herself sternly. You are the hired help, just like the rest of these servants. He may be treating you like his queen, but you need to always remember that you are a p.a.w.n in this game. However, she refused to let the thought linger or a frown to break across her face. So Almasi kept smiling, laughing, and talking with her future husband all the way through lunch.

The preparations before the wedding were hectic, as Almasi expected them to be. Yifeng paid her another visit, as did Mrs. Nettle, and she was pinched and prodded and pulled into the wedding dress. The neckline of the gown was rather low, so she had to find a way to conceal the key to her diary. She took the chain off her neck, and when Mrs. Nettle and Yifeng were looking away, she tied it to her garter. That way, she thought, she could a.s.sure it would be safe and she would avoid any nosy questions.

The wedding, Almasi was told, was going to take place in a small chapel inside the mansion. Good heavens! she thought to herself, How many rooms does this place have? Jeremy, Jacob's a.s.sistant, would be the best man, and he would walk her down the aisle. The matron of honor was to be none other than Mrs. Nettle, who Almasi suspected knew more about the arranged marriage than she was letting on to Almasi and Yifeng.

A non-denominational minister would be performing the service and he would be arriving at 5:00. Almasi looked at the clock on the wall. It was 4:45. Fifteen more minutes, and she would be getting married.

The ceremony was uneventful. Jeremy was stiff and silent as always, Mrs. Nettle was stern, and the elderly minister was expressionless as he read the vows. But when Almasi looked into Jacob's eyes, she saw her own feelings reflected: excitement, a bit of apprehension, but most of all, a growing fondness. It was funny how two people could grow so attached to each other in such little time.

It would be hard to let go of that feeling once this was over. Almasi swallowed and repeated her vows. And once the "I do's" had been said, the rings had been exchanged, and the marriage certificate had been signed, the couple walked out to an unexpected gathering of all of the household servants, who were smiling happily at them. They applauded and cheered as the two of them walked out into the garden.

They would have an hour still before dinner was served, so a romantic stroll among the flowerbeds was deemed the appropriate activity. And so, hand-in-hand, Jacob and Almasi made their way past the cheering service staff and into the large labyrinth of flowers, trees, and bushes.

As they walked, Jacob continued to hold her hand, and Almasi did not move to take hers away from his.

"You know, I..." Jacob began, and then trailed off. He took a deep breath and sneaked a glance at his new wife. "I think that went pretty well."

Almasi looked at him and tried to decode his facial expression. He seemed happy, but... restrained? She decided to adopt the same tone. "Yes, I agree," she said evenly, not breaking eye contact with him or slowing the pace of her steps.

"I was thinking," he started again, "uh... well, how are you feeling about the whole staying in my room thing?"

Almasi's heart sank. She knew this had been too good to be true. Clearly, he did not want her around now that he had been near her.

"Well," she said, "I mean, it's necessary for the k.u.mi Diamonds deal that we act like a couple. And I... I would not mind sleeping with you. I mean," she corrected herself hastily, "sleeping in the same room with you."

Jacob stopped walking and turned to face her. "Well, you know, I was actually... kind of looking forward to spending time close to you. If that's really what you want."

Oh. Oh. Was this why he had sounded so nervous? So it wasn't that he hated her. He... he wanted to be with her, whatever that means.

"It is," she said evenly. Then her emotions overcame her. She smiled softly and looked into his eyes. "It really is what I want, Jacob."

"Almasi..." he began, and she stepped closer, bridging the s.p.a.ce between them, and kissed him gently on the mouth. She took him by surprise, but soon he was kissing her back, and his hands were on her waist and hers were in his hair. They were kissing pa.s.sionately now, and Jacob felt relief and desire well up inside him in equal measures. This was different from the kisses he had shared with other women; it felt sincere. It felt real.

Almasi couldn't even think for all of the joy and pleasure she was feeling. This was her first deep, intense kiss, since... well; it was the first in a very, very long time. It was amazing. If she had let herself be carried away, she would have gone to be with him that night and had him as a lover. He was her husband, after all, so not only was it proper, it was also generally expected.

And the feelings that were filling her body and mind were so strong, so pa.s.sionate, so real. She wanted him, here and now, in the garden, and she had to resist that urge with every fiber of her being, because now was not the time.

This was not even necessarily the man. Although s.e.x would not affect the annulment, Almasi wanted her first time to happen in a less contrived circ.u.mstance. She didn't want to lose her virginity in that kind of a situation, even though she was quite literally being paid a million dollars by the man who could be taking it. Even though she wanted it more than anything in the world, she had to stop. So she pulled away.

Jacob looked at his beautiful wife, her lips fuller from kissing, her eyes wide and pupils dilated. "What is it, darling?" he asked.

"Oh, it's nothing. Only, uh, just..." she trailed off. "Should we not be heading back for dinner by now?"

Jacob looked at his watch. "Oh! You're right. We have ten minutes." A bit of mischief sparkled in his eyes. "Want to race me?"

Almasi laughed. "Only if you want to lose!" and she lifted up the skirt of her dress and ran, weaving her way through the gardens and trees. Jacob, laughing, followed her, and by the time they got back to the mansion, they were gasping for breath.

"Almasi," said Jacob, and as she turned to look at him, he grabbed her at the waist and kissed her again. When he was done, he pulled back and said, "I have no idea what we're doing, but I enjoy this."

"Me too," she whispered, looking at the ground.

He took her chin in his hand and made her look at him. His eyes were honest. "It will all work out. Now, dinner?"

"Dinner," she agreed, so they brushed themselves off and went inside.

Chapter2.

The wedding night pa.s.sed uneventfully, with both the bride and groom too careful about the situation to try anything with one another. Over the course of the next week, they played a sort of avoidance game, even as they began to fall for one another in earnest. Almasi realized that she was beginning to memorize her husband's features. The slight wave of his hair, the color of his eyes, the strength of his hands, and the sound of his breath in bed next to her.

Jacob, for his part, was beginning to question his entire view of women and s.e.x. This was the first time he had been with a woman in such an intimate and romantic setting without s.e.x happening, and he found that Almasi's company was enough. He respected her taste in colors and food, and he found that she always knew how to approach a business situation when he shared company financial information with her.

She would lean over his shoulder as he would sit at the desk in his study-the study that had once been his father's-and comment on his work. She was insightful, intelligent, and beautiful, and she was his wife.

If only... if only, he thought, for the thousandth time, this had not been contrived. If only this had been the plan all along, for him to fall in love with the woman to whom he would only be married to for a month. He would watch her sit in her lounge and write in that secret diary and sigh. She was perfect. h.e.l.l, she was even his wife. So why, G.o.d, why could she not also be his lover?

A week ago, he would have laughed at such thoughts. He would have dismissed romantic feelings like that as puppy love, and happily proclaimed anyone silly enough to buy into such things to be an idiot. He knew that Jeremy would laugh if he ever told him the extent of his developing feelings for Almasi.

But at the same time... he felt something, and yes, there was l.u.s.t involved, but it was more than that. He felt whole with Almasi around. With Almasi, he felt like he could accomplish just about anything. He sighed.

Her feelings would never be the same, he imagined. She was here for one thing and one thing only: to play the part of the good wife, to collect her payment, and then to go back to her real life. She would go to grad school, he knew it, and with the one million dollars she would earn from her deal with him, she would never have to worry about working overtime or pushing aside her dreams of success.

And all of this, this future... it did not involve him. It would not involve him. So Jacob resolved to let her play his wife, to make the deal go smoothly, and then to let her go free. It was the least he could do, after all of the trouble she was going through. There was no need to complicate things.

Meanwhile, Almasi processed her own feelings through writing her diary entries. She wrote at least twice a day, often three times, making observations about her surroundings and trying to muddle through her emotions. She wrote about the wedding day, and the pa.s.sionate urges that his kisses had aroused in her. There had been a few other kisses like that-once in the hall, and again one time in the foyer when his after-work peck turned into something a little more fervent (the maids had turned away, blushing).

He would also kiss her before bed every night, and she would occasionally kiss him gently and tenderly on the cheek in the morning if she woke up before him. She could sometimes feel Jacob's presence in the room, watching her as she wrote about these things. It gave her great comfort to know that her diary was locked up for safekeeping. Almasi knew her husband well enough by now, to know that he would never pry, and she respected him all the more for it, but she also did not want to risk him finding out about her true feelings. She would not have him think that she was unable to do this job.