A British Bride by Agreement (23 page)

She smiled and lifted her glass for a
toast.
“To our marriage.”

The hopeful expression in her eyes
pulled on him. She wanted more from him.
More time, more
attention, more affection, but could he commit to that and risk sacrificing his
career?

In reality, sitting here staring at a
stunning woman, he was about to toss his laptop into the ocean, but once he got
home he knew the desire to please his father, the desperate need to make up for
his brother who died, would take over, and he would immerse himself back into
his work. He lifted his glass and
clinked
it with
hers, but didn’t say anything. Taking a sip he let his gaze fall. He was being
torn in half. One part of his heart was for her. The other for work, but surely
to have a successful marriage, his heart had to be whole.

***

Emma didn’t take a drink of her glass
and Jonathan didn’t even seem to notice. She swallowed back disappointment.
Today had been so wonderful. With Jonathan away from his obsession with work,
she had seen his adventurous, relaxed, fun side. But somehow his job was never
far from his thoughts. She could tell, even now, by the way he stared at her,
he was physically here, but mentally back at his office, tackling some problem.
She let out a long sigh.

“What’s wrong? Are you tired from
today?” He asked.

“No.” She pushed away from the table and
stood. “I think I’ll let you get back to work.”

He frowned as he got to his feet. “I’m
not—what? Stay and enjoy our dinner.”

She smiled to hide the sadness welling
in her throat. “I don’t want to be your wife just for tonight. I want to be
your wife when we get back home, too.”

His face turned to stone. “You will be,”
he said, and then he drained his glass of champagne.

“No I won’t.” She walked past him.

He grabbed her arm, just as the chef
stepped onto the balcony.

“Mr. and Mrs.
Steller.
It has been a pleasure to cook for you. How is the meal?”

Jonathan led Emma back to her chair. “We
were just going to sit down and eat this exquisite meal, weren’t we dear?”

“Of course.”
Emma sat.

“Is there anything else I can get you?”
The chef bowed.

Jonathan sat down and held up his glass.
“More champagne—no, bring the bottle. No, bring two bottles. My wife and I have
a lot to celebrate.”

The chef looked at Emma and swallowed.
“Yes, I can see you do, sir.” He flushed red and tugged his hat into place.
“I’ll be right back with those bottles.”

Emma leaned in. “What are you doing?”

“You wanted Nick gone. You wanted time
with me. You said you wanted to start trying to have children tonight. I am
merely acceding to your requests.”

Emma’s cheeks burned. She had said all
those things. But she didn’t want those things for just one night, she wanted
them every day. “Well I—I’ve changed my mind.”

“I haven’t.”

The chef walked in with two bottles in
an ornate ice bucket.
One
of the bottles was already
open. “Enjoy your evening.”

Jonathan nodded. “Oh, we will.”

A shiver went down Emma’s back to her
toes.

He took one of the bottles and filled
his glass, then walked over to her. “Drink up, dear.”

She glared at him as she drained her
glass and slammed it on the table.

He filled it to the brim with the
champagne and sat down. “I suggest you eat some of that food.”

Emma pushed her plate further away and
emptied her glass. “There is something I’ve wanted to ask you.” Her head
already felt dizzy. Then she remembered she had eaten only an ice cream cone
today. “Why does your father push you so hard?”

Jonathan took a bite of fish and washed
it down with a drink. “He wants me to succeed.”

“Does he?” She felt her heart racing.
She had never been this bold with Jonathan before. “Compared to your mother, he
doesn’t even seem very kind to you. Why is that?”

Jonathan sat back, holding his glass in
his hand. “That’s how some fathers are. They don’t coddle their sons, they push
them. He is not as soft as my mother because he is a man.”

“Did he become hard after your brother
died?”

Jonathan took a sip and set his glass
down, but not before she noticed a slight tremble.

“Maybe.
But everyone
deals with grief differently.”

“Or maybe he holds you responsible.” Emma
spoke softly. She didn’t want to hurt Jonathan, but she wanted him to understand
why he was so obsessed with work.

He drained his glass and stood. He
filled it again and drained it, as if to cover over some dark pain. “My brother
killed himself when he was eighteen. He had big ears and was kind of awkward. He
was bullied a lot at school. And then there was a lot of pressure on him as the
heir apparent, and he seemed to crumble under the burden. He dabbled in drugs
and I knew it. But I never told anyone in my family. He’d made me promise. He
said it was temporary. He just needed to get through his first year of college,
and I believed him. But then he overdosed.” Jonathan slammed his fist on the
table. “And I’ll never know if it was an accident or he did it on purpose. So maybe
I am responsible for his death.”

The pain in his voice, ripped into
Emma’s heart. She came over to him and held his fist. “I am so sorry.” She
knelt down beside him and shook her head, trying to shake away this woozy
feeling away so she could think clearly. “That was not your fault.”

He stood up and paced the terrace,
finally stopping at the edge over-looking the ocean. He drained his third or
fourth glass of champagne.

Emma came and took the glass away from
him. She gripped his hand with her own and waited, hoping by her presence she
could ease his pain.

Suddenly, he turned her and pulled her
into his arms.

She rubbed his back, saying over and
over, “You can’t blame yourself.” She pressed her eyes shut and prayed over
him, that God could help him get free of this guilt.

He pulled back with tears in his eyes.
“I miss my brother.” He leaned on the railing and put his head in his hands. “I
miss him every day.”

She could feel his shoulders shake.
“Come to bed, honey. You need a good night’s sleep.

He let her lead him into the darkened
bedroom. She took him to his side of the bed and slid off his jacket, laying it
on the dresser. When she started undoing his shirt buttons, her hands pulled
back. This was too intimate. “You can do this. I’ll find your pajamas.”

But he held her still. “You are the most
amazing woman. I can’t believe God led me to marry you. I don’t deserve you.”

She sighed. That was just the champagne
talking. “Let me help you to bed and we can talk—”

He set his fingers to her lips. “You are
the best thing in my life.” He pressed his lips to hers, slowly laid her on the
bed. “I don’t deserve you, but I see you are my treasure.”

Emma’s body trembled at his words.

 
“And I will care for you every day that God
allows us to be together.” He forced his warm, strong lips to hers, and took
control of her mouth.

She reveled in his passion, her heart
was overflowing with bliss, so much so,
she
laughed
out loud.

He leaned back and took off his shirt.
“I want to make you this happy every day.”

As he pressed himself to her again, she
savored the clean smell of soap and his own manly scent. She had never been so
attracted to a man before.

As the passion increased, Emma let go
and allowed Jonathan to be her husband in every sense of the word.

***

Jonathan woke up. He glanced over at
Emma, who was curled into a little ball sound asleep. His mind played out last
night’s events until the phone rang. He pulled on some sweat pants and took his
cell phone out of the room so as not to wake Emma. A glance at the clock told
him it was ten a.m.

“Hi Dad.”
He cleared his
throat, hoping to sound more awake.

“What is this I hear that your wife has
sent over $200,000 dollars to England and you didn’t tell me?”

“There is a very good explanation for
that.”

“I’m listening.”

“I haven’t had a chance to sort it out
yet, but as soon as I get back, I will.”

“If she has swindled this company—”

“First of all, they were my personal
funds, and secondly, that is not who she is.”

He father chuckled. “You haven’t asked
her about it yet.”

Jonathan ran his fingers through his
hair. “No, not yet, but I will address it.”

“I was afraid this marriage would soften
you.”

“No, look, you’ve got it all wrong—”

“There is a new opening in Product
Development. And I was considering moving you back there, but ever since Nick
took it over and he told me about your wife and her shifting money around, I’m glad
I moved him into that position. At least he hasn’t cost me any money.”

Jonathan pressed his lips together to
gather his composure. “Look, I’ll be home in five hours. We can talk about it
then.”

“Fine.”

Jonathan shoved his fists to his waist.
He’d sworn he’d never allow anything to divert his attention from his goals.
Had he softened since he’d married Emma? A memory of last night floated through
his mind. He rubbed his mouth, feeling as if he was choosing between cutting
off a leg or an arm. But he had to keep business first. That’s what made his
father happy. And what made his father happy made the guilt from his brother’s
death more bearable for everyone in his family.

He slipped into the shower and dressed.
While he was putting on his shoes, Emma stirred and sat up.

“Where are you going?”

“I have to get back to St. Louis.”

“Well, give me a minute and I’ll get
dressed and joined you.”

“No.” He strode toward her and kissed
her on the forehead. “I have to go straight to the office.
“
I’m
sending another jet to pick you up later this afternoon.”

She reached out and held his arm. “But I
want to go with you.”

He could feel his blood pressure rising.
Cut off the leg or the arm, the leg or
the arm
? “You can’t. I will see you later.”

He strode out of the room, got his
papers and brief case together and headed for the door. He could hear the
patter of feet behind him. All the while he could feel the woman he loved
impaling him with her saddened gaze.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Over the last two days, Jonathan had
seen little of Emma. He worked until he knew she was asleep and got up before she
was awake. He didn’t want to deal with the emotional longings she evoked. And
he certainly didn’t want to be reminded of their romantic night together. If he
thought too much about it, he’d tear out of his office and rush home to be with
her again.

Business was important for now.
Especially when he realized Nick was gunning to take away what he had worked
for his whole life. Later, he would have time for passion.
Although,
at the thought of last night, he swallowed hard.
Emma was an
intoxicating woman.

His phone rang and he clicked on his
speakerphone.

“Mrs. Peterson
for you.”
Geraldine said.

He groaned. This lady was incessant. The
Steller Benefit Concert was still about a month away. How hard could it be to
plan? “Yes, Mrs. Peterson.”

“I haven’t heard from you on the
concert. Things don’t
just happen on their own
.
Sometimes you have to make an effort.”

He rolled his eyes.
“Of
course not.
I’ll have someone call you this week.”

“That’s what you said last week. You’re
a day late and a dollar gone.”

He shook his head at her mixed up
sayings. “Well, then it’s good that you called me. You keep me on my…nose.”

Her silence revealed she wasn’t amused
at his joke.

He should be more polite. This was his
mother’s oldest friend. “I will look into it and call you personally by the end
of the week.”

“Fine.”
She hung up.

Her words,
sometimes you have to make an effort
rang in his mind. He couldn’t
let his marriage die. He knew Emma cared for him and he had been shutting her
out. He hadn’t even seen her now for three days. He called her cell number. No
answer. He called back and this time he left a message.