Hiya. I do not own ff8 or any of its characters, I also do not own the story this is based on, my friend who wrote it for GCSE's however does.

x R & R, I'd really appreciate it, need to know where I'm going wrong x

Contracted Wife

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Rinoa raised her long lashes to reveal chocolate brown eyes as she looked out across the grass towards the voice. Squall. The man she had fallen in love with a year ago when her mother, Julia Heartilly, married his father, Laguna Loire. The man her eighteen year old heart desperately hoped would fall in love with her, too. She always was romantic to a fault.

She had heard his car arrive, pulling up on the drive in front of her family's holiday home in Winhil. Squall would argue that point, of course. It was his family, his. Not hers. No matter how much she strived for his attention he never did seem to warm to her. She'd change that, she'd decided. This family holiday in fact.

She swallowed the nervousness that threatened to overcome; forcing herself to remain stretched out on the grass, soaking up the sun, rather than run and greet him much like a loveable dog. Squall, she had learnt quickly, was not a man you went running after, but instead waited for him to come to you – even if he was the love of your life and just looking at him had your stomach buzzing with wings and yours knees weak with longing.

He stood at the edge of the grass; his jacket slung across his shoulder. His highly polished shoes, a habit of his from his SeeD military days, in his other hand with his socks neatly tucked inside. The evidence of the rumour running through her family that he always drove barefoot. His blue checked, un-tucked shirt hung loosely from his chest, the hem covering the silver SeeD standard issue belt she knew to be holding his black trousers up.

His hair was long but not overly so, chestnut strands hung in front of his icy blue eyes but his hair wasn't the only thing that hid them from her now, they were also hidden by the black sunglasses that he wore; another remnant from his long drive.

She glanced up at the sun, it certainly was bright today.

The disapproving thrown on his face brought her attention away from his physique. He was not at all pleased at finding her sunbathing alone on their front lawn in a bikini top comprising of small scraps of yellow material and silver metal. At least her shorts were a little longer and less indecent than bikini bottoms would have been. If she was honest with herself, she had considered them, but, having sat out here in the deliberate attempt to catch Squall's attention as he arrived for the family reunion, she had found herself too self-conscious to bare herself that much in front of him.

Squall had a habit of either treating her as an irritating child, or completely ignoring her altogether. She so much wanted him to recognise her as a woman. A desirable one at that.

"I'm enjoying the sun, Squall, what does it look like I'm doing?" She smiled as she stretched languorously, arching her slender back. The movement forced her breasts forward; a calculated, tried and tested move. Her nipples were aroused from her nervousness, she wondered if he could see them through the yellow fabric.

"I can see that!" he snapped scathingly. "For Hyne's sake put some clothes on, will you?" He stepped onto the grass.

"I'm getting a tan, silly. I don't know about you Squall but I for one have extreme difficulty in doing so with clothes on. Besides there is no one here to see me." She glanced around the lawn pointedly.

The Loire family home stood surrounded by a generous portion of grounds within a high wrought iron fence. Sat up on a hill overlooking the village, it gave an impressive one hundred and eighty degree view of the countryside surrounding Winhil.

Squall was grateful that he had spotted her from his car, grateful that he's momentarily forgotten the sunglasses perched on his nose. He was thankful for the cover the dark lenses were currently giving him; they hid the emotion in his eyes as his gaze swept the length of Rinoa's slender but perfect body. He normally preferred ample women, but Rinoa...Rinoa was perfect. He could admit that, in the privacy of his head anyway.

Her skin was more red than tan. Although he preferred her milky skin he couldn't deny that the thought of her tanned skin glistening from a coat of sun cream in a few days time wasn't appealing.

She had a beautifully slender body without any blemishes that only the young possessed, one that was hard for any man to resist.

And Squall had had plenty of practice at doing exactly that since Rinoa burst into his life a year ago and making no effort to hide her infatuated interest in him.

An interest, at twenty-two years of age, he'd had no intention of satisfying.

Well, at least, he hadn't had any intention of satisfying until he'd stepped out of his car and saw her lying there…

"Anyone could have walked out here and –"

" 'Anyone' didn't, you did,"

She smiled, an attempt to appease him. "Besides, the women on Dollet's beaches won't be wearing anything more than this, less in fact.

That was true, Squall conceded. He knew from his travelling days with SeeD that the beaches on the Galbadian coast would be full of families at this time of the year, most of the women indecently dressed and no one batted an eye lid. But, he narrowed his eyes behind the dark lenses, none of them (presumably) were alone with the man they had shamelessly been throwing themselves at for the last year.

"Where are our –" He gritted his teeth, he loathed to call them `their' parents. "- your mother?" At least the presence of his father and Rinoa's mother would have eased the situation a little. Even if he still found Julia's role as his stepmother almost as irritating as having Rinoa as his step-sister, he knew from experience that the raven-haired beauty was meek with her mother around.

He avoided her as best he was able, which was a great deal of time for the most part. He was only intending this "Family holiday" because his father had begged. He had grown tired of picking up the phone to hear Laguna's voice on the other end.

"Laguna wanted to go into Deling; he's buying my mother something impressive for their anniversary. They should be back in an hour or so." Rinoa sat up, crossed legged and leaning forward slightly, looking up into his down – turned face. "They waited for you this morning but as usual you're never on time. You'd think, being a SeeD, you would be, but no. Family functions aren't on your priority list, are they?" She shrugged. "It's Selphie's day off too. So I said I'd wait for you."

Hyne! Not even the damn housekeeper was here to keep her on her best behaviour. Although, admittedly Rinoa had a somewhat questionable friendship with the help, maybe Selphie's being at the house wouldn't have changed anything.

"Oh, don't look so disapproving, Squall." Rinoa's smile dropped. Her eyes peered up at him, wide and uncertain. "It's just a bikini top. I'll go change if it bothers you that much! Seriously." She stood then, pulling at the hem of her shorts, tugging them the short distance that they actually reached down her thighs. "Why don't you go for a swim, cool down and relax a little." She said, generally concerned over his uptight and angry reaction even as she muttered under breath, "and get the stick out your arse."

Rinoa Kalyn Heartilly.

Daughter of Julia and the deceased Fury Caraway.

Apart from her long straight nose and mouth she had inherited her looks from her mother. From her milky pale skin to her glorious raven black hair that tumbled down to her mid-back, they would have been almost carbon copies were it not for her caramel highlights, streaking though her hair on either side of her head. Her skin was also redder than her mother's, at the moment at least.

The corner of Squall's mouth quirked, momentarily amused.

As far as Squall was concerned, her mother, who had been living in rented accommodation in Timber with her only daughter after the death of Caraway and had had to work as his father's cleaner and cook in the Loire enterprises art gallery in the town in order to support them both, had only married his father because he was a millionaire many times over and had even at one point in his life been offered the position of president of Esthar where they were originally from.

Julia's daughter, the beautifully stunning Rinoa, as far as Squall was concerned, had just calculatingly decided that he, Laguna's only son and heir since Ellone had passed away, would make an equally suitable husband for her. What woman wouldn't want a rich husband and free ride through life? Briefly he'd once over her child like naivety and manner but once she had cornered him at his bedroom door he'd quickly dismissed it as a facade, albeit a convincing one.

There was only one tiny problem with her line of thinking – Squall had no intention of ever marrying again. He had tried that once, only to discover that Quistis was solely interested in the Loire money, too, or in his case the Leonhart money he having taken his mother's name after her death years ago. He thought that perhaps she had been interested in the semi-fame that his position as SeeD command brought him also. Quistis walked out after only a year of marriage and leaving their two-month-old daughter behind with Squall when she did.

Their divorce a few months later had been messy and unfortunately very public, resulting in Squall giving Quistis half of his own personal fortune in order to maintain custody of their baby daughter he knew Quistis had absolutely no interest in anyway.

And into that storm had walked Rinoa Heartilly with all her hopes of twisting her way into his bed, his life, his bank.

No, he'd hardened his heart after Quistis. He'd be a fool to fall for the same trick twice.

It was just such a shame that his widowed father obviously learnt nothing what so ever from Squall's experience. He had announced soon after the divorce that he intended both retiring as president of Loire's art galleries in favour of Squall and marrying the attractive forty-something year old widow also known as his maid - his maid for Hyne's sake – for the last year, bringing with her a seventeen-year-old daughter from a previous marriage to some Galbadian general or other.

Petite, with an enticing, natural grace of movement and a completely angelic smile, Rinoa, had taken one look at Squall and from that moment on had done everything in her power to make him acknowledge her presence, as a woman. Every damn time he visited his father in Timber and occasionally in Esthar. It felt like her chocolate eyes followed him everywhere; he was constantly under surveillance and it grated on his nerves. He always had been more self conscious than he lead people to believe.

But Squall's experience with Quistis – even if he did contemplate getting married again to give his now two year old daughter a mother, a mother both of them desperately needed her to have – meant that Rinoa, no matter how alluring would never have a chance in hell. One grasping gold-digger in the family was quite enough for Squall, and thankfully she'd disappeared off to Hyne knows where, never to be heard of again, if he was lucky.

However he had decided with another sweep of his eyes down her scantily clad body that Rinoa was without a doubt a beautiful girl. A gorgeous girl.

He dropped his jacket and shoes gently onto the lawn.

"I think I just might," he murmured thickly as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"Oh," she said faintly, she watched him hesitantly as he finished unbuttoning his shirt and began to unbuckle his belt. She watched his shirt billowing out behind him slightly in the faint erratic breeze. The sound of the metal SeeD buckle hitting the grass brought her attention back to what he was doing. He stripped his shirt from his lightly tanned torso displaying the muscles he still had from his days as a SeeD, which ended nigh on two years ago when he joined his father in the Loire family business.

Unzipping his trousers he let them fall to the grass where he kicked them clear of his bare feet displaying long legs. And his black fitted boxers.

Rinoa blushed as she took in the light, small traces of hair on his chest, her eyes following the trail down his torso to where the hair thickened again just visible over the top of his boxers and her eyes widened as she saw the evidence of his arousal.

Squall wanted her!

Her!

Her?

Rinoa swallowed hard, slightly breathless as her gaze returned to the impassive planes of his face, his normal stormy eyes still hidden behind black lenses. A rock gave away more of its emotions and thoughts than Squall did, he looked so indifferent.

He stepped closer to, knowing that he had been lost the moment he had seen her from his car, knowing that he should have just walked up the path from the drive, that he shouldn't have walked out of his way over to here.

He surprised himself with how husky and deep his voice sounded as he asked, "Would you put some sun cream on my back?" He turned in front of her.

Her breathing erratic, she squeezed some of her sun cream into her shaking palm before touching his warm, broad shoulders. Enjoying the way his muscles tensed and flexed beneath her hands, she trailed her fingertips across his shoulder blade. He shifted away from her, his shoulders pushing back against her touch; an instinctive action that made her smile.

Her fingers slipped lower on his hot, velvety skin, spreading the cream across his whole back. Never, not once, did she think that her dreams would come true; that Squall would allow her to touch him in this way, in any way really.

The hard strength of him beneath her fingers made her tremble, a warmth between her thighs spreading as she felt the tension taut between them.

Squall turned unexpectedly. Her slick fingers slipping from their purchase on the small of his back and narrowly colliding with a part of his body she ached and yet dreaded to touch.

"Front." One word sentences, now this was the Squall she knew. She sighed mentally.

Rinoa's hands shook violently as she raised them to his chest, tentatively spreading the cool sun cream across his skin. She glanced up at his black lenses before hastily averting her eyes; she could feel his gaze burning into her, the glasses hiding his eyes making it all the more unbearable. Without really thinking she reached up, tugging his glasses away from him and dropped them onto the pile of his clothes. He narrowed his eyes at her, a tiny movement that had she not been staring she might not have noticed.

It didn't help. She could feel his assessing gaze wander over her. Her hands shaking more and more as it continued, unrelenting.

"Lower," he whispered, seductive and soft. She jumped at the sudden sound, only now realising she'd been continuously coating the same patch of skin.

He reached out one hand, gripping gently onto the outside of her thigh.

She could feel the warmth in her cheeks, her gaze avoiding his as she looked down at her hand moving over the un-tanned skin of his taut stomach, spreading the cream and thoroughly aware that were he to go sunbathing he would be as patchy as a cow.

"Lower, Rinoa," he urged a hint of impatience in his voice.

She shivered at the command in his voice. She'd desperately wanted to show Squall how mature she was, how she would be good for him and here she was hesitating and fumbling.

She reached out, her hand smoothing over his thigh beneath one boxer leg receiving a grunt of approval.

Her touch was driving him insane, Squall knew, the caressing fingers increased the need he had to make love to her.

But he knew he shouldn't…he wouldn't.

They had a couple of hours, Rinoa had said, and he intended on touching her as she had him.

He'd had enough of this game he was playing with, he couldn't take much more of her fingers caressing gently before he snapped and took her right there.

He pushed her fingers away. "You're burning," he murmured gruffly, taking the tube away from her.

Squall looked into her eyes, as his hand came into contact with the soft skin of her stomach. Rinoa's groan of pleasure caused a similar response within his own body.

She couldn't look away from his gaze, it caught and pinned her barely allowing her to blink. She was mesmerised by the pleasure he was evoking inside of her, stronger than any she had ever dreamed of. Just as it burned to an unbearable pitch Squall removed his hand, watching her.

"Lower?" he prompted her. Was she that transparent?

She could barely breathe; her admission a squeak.

He held her gaze again as he touched her, stepping in closer to her as his hand reached its target. Rinoa's thighs moved against him as he increased the rhythm of his caress, feeling her excitement increasing as she hurtled towards a pleasure she had never known before, arching against him as that heat spun out of control and wave after wave of sensation ripped through her whole body. Sobbing, her hands moved up as her fingers tangled in his silky chestnut hair, holding him against her as the waves became a crescendo of feelings that had her clinging to Squall in unashamed abandon.

She had never experienced anything like it in her life. None of her dreams had prepared her for the reality; never had she thought it was so uncontrolled. The response he enticed out of her was far from contrived.

A happy, giddiness washed over her, an exhausted smile beginning to tug at the corner of her mouth. He wanted her. Squall wanted her. He must have some feelings for her, maybe he loved –

"I think you should go get dressed." His tone was cold, derisive. Her head shot up from where it had leaned, tired, and drained against his shoulder. His eyes were no longer hot with desire but icy cold and disapproving. The gaze that moved over her lacked warmth and feeling, it was clinical and professional. "We wouldn't want to give my father a heart attack."

Rinoa blinked up at him. The uncertainty she had felt at his initial disapproval was nothing to the emotion plaguing her now. He had just caressed her in a way no one else ever had, he'd taken her to a climax she'd never dreamed of, there was an intimacy to the act that surely meant he had to feel something. Surely?

"I'm going for a swim."

What?

"What's the matter, Rinoa?" Squall looked down at her, his mouth twisted in contempt amusement. "Not satisfied yet?"

"Why are you being like this?" Rinoa sounded pained; tears were swimming in the chocolate depths of her eyes.

"Like what?" Squall replied tersely, he wasn't falling for those tears; Quistis had shed ones just like them every time she hadn't been able to get her own way during the total of three years that they were together. Crocodile tears: deceptive and false.

Rinoa blinked dazedly, "We just –"

"No, Rinoa, you just," he corrected. "You've been wanting me to touch you for the past year and now I have done so…" he shrugged, "…so what are you complaining about?"

She shook her head, "I don't understand…"

"Maybe you can now leave me alone?"

"But I thought-" she shook her head, "but I thought you and I-"

Squall's already waning patience ran dry. "Thought what? That you'd seduce me? That I'd then behave like my lovesick fool of a father? That I'd ask you to marry me? Think again. I'm not my father, I don't fall for money graspers." He cast his angry eyes aside then, muttering "twice," beneath his breath.

Rinoa stared up at him, tears beginning to fall from her eyes.

She loved him. She had thought his response had meant he loved her in return. But just because he didn't, didn't mean he could humiliate her and succeed.

"Squall, you cannot seriously believe that my mother…she loves Laguna with all her heart!" she protested, wondering what that made her if Squall could believe that of her mother. "She wasn't after his money."

"Right." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "It's easy to love someone who's worth so much."

"But she really does!" Rinoa defended heatedly.

"Of course she does. Enough for her to accept him giving her three hundred thousand gil to pay off her debts before they were even married, anyway. A little excessive for a living allowance wouldn't you say?" he added scathingly.

"What?" Rinoa gasped standing up, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, come on, Rinoa," he sighed wearily, tiring of the whole thing. "Just accept that I know about the money and the debts, and let's move on, shall we?"

She had no clue as to what he was talking about, she was certain that there had to be some mistake. Squall got it wrong, that's all; he grasped the wrong end of a very long stick. Her mother would never… "You're just bitter, Squall. Everyone knows Quistis only married you for-" She broke off, realising she had gone too far when she saw Squall's face darken dangerously.

"Would you like to finish that sentence?"

She shook her head, saying gently, "Not all women are like Quistis, Squall."

"Aren't they?" Squall cut in harshly, "you've done nothing but throw yourself at me for the past year, haven't you?"

Her cheeks burned as heat flooded her face at his obvious contempt. She couldn't find her voice to tell him it was because she loved him not for what he was accusing her of.

Rinoa couldn't care less whether he was rich and living in mansions or barely earned enough to keep a roof over his head. She had a stepfather that could loan her some money were she ever in great need of help and that was the only purpose a rich husband served that a poorer husband couldn't. She didn't need nor particularly strive for a rich husband. He'd got her all wrong. She supposed she had Quistis to thank for that. Later she would wonder what would have happened had she met him first.

"I can't deny that I tried to seduce you, but I can deny it was for your reasons! And I don't believe you about Mum. Why would she even need three hundred thousand?"

"I don't know. Maybe you should ask her that." He shook his head. "I don't even know why my father married her, she's one expensive sh –"

The sharp sound of her palm hitting his cheek cut off his sentence. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Do that –"

"I hate you." She growled, furious. She didn't know before how quickly you could cross the line between love and hate but it was a very thin line indeed.

"Good."

He watched her storm off up the drive and into the house, determinedly not running but the swing of her arm and bounce of her heels said she wanted to.

So why didn't it feel as satisfying as he'd imagined?