A British Bride by Agreement (8 page)

“E—eight
thousand?”
The muscles in Emma’s neck tightened.

“Then we’ll have to do some shopping for
some of the more formal gowns you’ll need for our upcoming dinners.”

An itch started on Emma’s left shoulder
blade and she squirmed to ease its prickly feel.

Mrs. Steller led her to the double
French doors that led to the outside, where the wedding crowd had gathered to
wish them goodbye. “The fall is always a very busy social season, but you and
Jonathan won’t be expected to entertain much in your new home. A tea, a
luncheon, a dinner every other week should be manageable.”

“B—but,” Emma protested. She wasn’t very
good at putting parties together.

“Don’t forget your shoes, ma’am.” The
maid scurried down the stairs holding a pair of gray pumps in the air.

Emma looked down at her stocking feet.
How was she ever going to make it as a society wife, if she couldn’t even tell
whether she was wearing shoes? She took the Prada footwear and quickly slipped
her feet into them. Every pore on her body broke out in a cold sweat. Emma
tugged on her jacket and set a bright smile on her lips. “Thank you again, Mrs.
Steller, for everything.”

“I’m very pleased to be your mother-in-law,
but please, call me by my nickname, Babsy.”

 
“Babsy.”
Again, why did all moneyed people have the same
nicknames? Now she knew a Rich R Us Website certainly did exist.
“Of course.”

Nick opened the French doors. “The car
is waiting, Mrs. Steller.”

“Thank you,” they both answered.

Mrs. Steller smiled and kissed Emma’s
cheek. “All Jonathan needs is your love. He hides a gentle heart under his
professional exterior, but inside is a man who’s been hurt and needs the
affection of a loving woman to restore his soul.”

Affection?
Emma swallowed. “I’ll try and
remember that.”

Nick shook Jonathan’s hand.
“Congratulations, Jonathan. I’ll make sure everything is taken care of at the
office.”

Jonathan nodded. “I know you will.”

Once outside in the dominating August
sun, Emma and Jonathan posed for pictures next to, outside, and inside the
limo, until her cheeks hurt from smiling. When the driver finally closed the
door behind the newlyweds, Emma let out a huff of air. “What a day. We didn’t
get to see much of each other—”

The shrill of a cell phone interrupted
her words. Jonathan answered it,
then
mouthed the
word,
Shanghai
, before he started
talking.

Emma stared out the window as the limo
pulled onto I-70, on their way to Lambert Airport. A lump welled in her throat.
Was he going to be this preoccupied all the time? She understood his offer of
marriage was one of mutual convenience, but she’d hoped they could work out a
friendship, at least. Needing reassurance, she flipped through the small Bible
she’d tucked into her travel bag. Her eyes landed on the scripture,
Guard me as the apple of your eye.

If only she could believe that God cared
that much about her.

“Would you like a drink?” Jonathan, done
with his call, now held out a fizzing glass.

“Thank you.” She reached for the glass
and took a sip.
Apple soda.
A trickle of pleasure
filled her. Was it a coincidence? Hope infused her heart. “Shall we toast?
To us?”

Jonathan’s face clouded. “Sure.” His
voice sounded tight. Did he regret the marriage?

Fixing a smile on her face, she
clinked
her glass with his, but when his cell phone rang
again, she noticed he didn’t take a drink before answering it. Twisting her
gaze away, she focused her tear-filled eyes out the window. This was not what
she had hoped for.

***

“Herr Steller,
gut
to see you.” The doorman opened the entrance to the prestigious
Erste
Tag
resort in Munich Germany.

Jonathan nodded and cast a glance at
Emma. Her weary plodding and mute expression told him she hadn’t slept much on
the flight over. He had snoozed the entire time in the Steller jet. Wrapping
his arm around her, he guided her through the crowded foyer. By the pain in her
green eyes at the wedding, she had probably wanted him to stay by her side the
whole time, but how could he explain how much he needed to keep his emotions
under control? Before his older brother died…and his wedding day was canceled…
he had never been afraid of anything. But now that his father had demoted him
to charity director at the family business, that same fear, of somehow these
events were his fault, had come back to grip him.

Emma stumbled and he slowed his stride
to hold her closer to his side. She had made a strikingly beautiful bride. Her
figure in that white sheath dress took his breath away. He’d never intended on
being so drawn to her appearance or her caring nature. He feared he'd get
caught up in the moment and
say
something tender. But
that wasn’t part of their agreement.

The resort’s lobby bustled with people.
Jonathan savored the cosmopolitan atmosphere of different languages and dress
of varied people all mixed together. It was good to be back in the hometown of
his grandparents.

He shot a glance at Emma. Did she enjoy
the Alpine ambiance? By the dark circles under her eyes, she was at the end of
her ski pass. Wrapping his arm tighter around her waist, he determined to make
it up to her. Here, away from his family, his work, difficult reminders of the
past, they would have fun, get to know one another. Surely, after a while, an
amicable relationship could be established and his infatuation with her would
cease.

Several tourists lined up at the
reception desk. As it was the first Saturday of Oktoberfest, bellhops scurried
back and forth, and in the background, a German folk song played.

“
Guten Abend,
Herr and Frau Steller.”
Fredrick
Bonheit
, the silver haired manager of the resort escorted
them into his office. “Good to see you again, Herr Steller. Your family was
just here, but I haven’t seen you in a couple of years.”

“Work keeps me very busy.”

Emma wilted onto a chair and held her
head up with her hand.

“I’m anxious to get upstairs. My wife is
very tired.”
Wife?
A jolt of reality hit him. He was a
married man.

“Hearty congratulations. Let me check
you in myself.” But Fredrick frowned as he typed on his computer. “Herr
Steller, there’s some confusion. I don’t have you arriving until tomorrow.”

“Impossible. I booked our trip myself—”
Jonathan rubbed the back of his neck. “My mother changed the date of the wedding.”
He directed his gaze at Emma, whose vacant stare told him she was past
exhaustion. “Surely you have another suite available.”

The manager fixed his worried gaze on
his computer screen. “We’re booked. Oktoberfest is our busiest time of the
year.”

“You must have something.”

“Nothing—”

“Fredrick, my family has been staying
here for years—”

“Just a moment.”
The older man
strode out of the room and returned a few minutes later. “We have a one bedroom
suite available on a floor that is being renovated.”

One couch and
one bed for one night.
No problem. At this point, Jonathan would do
anything just to get Emma where she could rest. “Fine, we’ll take it.”

“The bathroom and the bedroom can be
made up, but I must caution you, the living area may not be—”
 

“I said
it’s
fine.”

“Give me a moment to arrange this.” The
manager slipped back out of the room

“Jonathan!” An older gentleman hobbled
in on a cane.

“Herr Tag, how are you?” Jonathan’s mood
brightened. Here was his father’s oldest friend, and the owner of the resort.
Jonathan embraced him. “Good to see you.”

“Ach, my knees not so
gut,
but it warms my heart to see you.
It’s been too long. And I hear you have found a wife.”

“Yes, this is Emma.”

She glanced up and offered a wilted
smile.

Herr Tag patted her hand. “A
gut
nights rest and all will be well.”
He shifted his gaze back to Jonathan. “And how is business?”

“We’ve just opened an office in China.”

“
Wunderbar
, and which division are you working in now? Has
your father loosened his grip on the helm?”

Was it hot in here? Jonathan adjusted
the collar on his cotton pullover. “No he hasn’t given up an inch of control.
I—I work in a lot of areas. Right now, though, I’m overseeing, actually called
in, to fix the Steller Charity Foundation, but it’s just a temporary
assignment. The area I excel in most is product development.”

“A good business man knows how to make
money and how to give it away.”

Jonathan grimaced. That sounded like
something his father would say.

The manager walked back into the room.

“And
Fredrick,
is he treating you well?” Herr Tag gripped his employee by the shoulder. “I
expect the finest room for my dear friends.”

Jonathan cast a glance at the hotel
manager’s anxious gaze. “He couldn’t do a better job. Under his care, we will
sleep like kings.”

“
Wiedersehen
.
I shall check
up on you later.” Herr Tag ambled out of the room.

“Thank you, Herr Steller,” the hotel
manager plopped in his chair.

Jonathan held up his hand. “You have
taken care of us. It’s no problem.”

Fredrick avoided his gaze as he finished
typing in the computer. “I hope so.”

A bellhop led Jonathan and Emma up to
the deserted third floor. As they walked down the uncarpeted hallway, Emma
stopped and flashed her green eyes at him. “I don’t feel well.”

Jonathan felt a surge of protectiveness
toward her. He took her by the elbow and gently led her forward. “You’re just
over tired. We’ll be in our suite in a minute.”

The bellhop unlocked the door and
Jonathan guided Emma into the room.

Jonathan’s shoulders slumped. The
uncarpeted living area held a coffee table and two folding chairs. A peek in
the bedroom revealed a lavish king-size bed with gold silk bedding and rows of
pillows, but no carpeting either. A maid was just setting a bowl of chocolates
on the nightstand. The bell hop hauled the luggage into the bedroom.

“Sleep.”
Emma mumbled,
throwing down her travel bag. She wobbled, and Jonathan rushed to keep her
upright. He fished in his pocket and pulled out enough Euros to tip the bellman
and the maid before they left.

He directed Emma toward the bed. “
It’s
okay, the day’s finally over.”

He jerked back the feather duvet and she
plopped down, leaned over, and buried her face in the silk covered pillows.

“Here you go.” He lifted her legs,
slipped off her shoes, and pulled up the covers.

She curled up into a ball.

Her deep breathing told him she was
already asleep.

He peeked in at the sumptuous bathroom.
A pair of plush white robes hung from hooks and two sets of cashmere slippers
rested side by side. The gold tub could hold a football team. Could he sleep in
there? With no carpeting, no oversized chair, there wasn’t a place for him to
lie down. As he glanced at the bed, a yawn consumed him. He had no right to be
tired. Before the jet was off the runway, he’d dropped off into a deep slumber.

Running his fingers through his hair, he
wrestled with his conscience. He’d promised Emma they’d have a two-room suite,
but with the quick wedding and the last minute changes, this was the best he
could do. He paced over and sat on the other side of the bed. The soft feather
duvet was tempting him to lie down.

He kicked off his shoes, and eased back.
He would lie very still, on his side, and just rest for a bit. Emma was so
tired, surely, she wouldn’t notice.

Tension eased from his body, and already
his mind was drifting through the memories of the last twenty-four hours. The
pride on his mother’s face
, the beautiful blue sky at the
reception, his sisters teasing him.
The sense that this was
his destiny.
A wife, a couple of children, and the
eventual helm of the family business.

The memory of Emma coming down the aisle
brought a smile to his lips. Her light colored hair framing her sweet face. Her
soft lips curved up into a smile. His chest burned. Now that they were wed,
obviously he’d made the right decision. So why did his stomach clench at the
thought of his strong attraction to her? Of course, as soon as they got back
home, he’d have to bury himself in his work.

What work? His father had moved him to
running the charity, and Nick to product development. Was he considering Nick to
run the company? He let out a sigh of aggravation and rubbed the tiredness from
his eyes. Why couldn’t he have stayed a part of product development? Surely
creating goods that made money was more important than giving it away. Did his
father think he wasn't performing up to Steller standards once again?