Convenient Brides (22 page)

She selected a classical choral collection CD from the state-of-the-art hi-fi console and, turning up the volume, listened as the ethereal sound filled the empty house with beatific strains that sounded as if they were coming down from heaven. She shut her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself, standing in the centre of the huge sitting room to let the magic of the perfect blend of young male voices seep into her very bones.

She didn’t hear Damien’s car return. Nor did she hear him enter the house. It was only when he entered the room that she sensed his presence. She swung around, her eyes springing open, her cheeks flaming.

‘I…I was just listening to some music,’ she gabbled in embarrassment.

‘You and most of the neighbourhood, it seems,’ he observed drily as he turned the volume down several notches with the remote control.

‘I like it loud,’ she defended.

‘You can turn it up later, when you start yelling at me. But for now I want to talk to you.’

‘I don’t yell.’

‘Don’t speak too soon. We’ve only been married twenty-four hours.’

Emily turned away to pick up another CD, effectively dismissing him.

‘Emily, look at me.’

She rolled her eyes and faced him. ‘Yes?’

‘I can sense you don’t wish to discuss what happened between us this morning, but discuss it we must.’

‘What’s to discuss? It was just sex.’

‘Such jaded cynicism in one so young astounds me.
Nevertheless, even people who have “just sex” must take full responsibility for having done so.’

‘And your point is?’ She arched one brow pertly, her pose insolent.

‘Are you on the Pill?’

She couldn’t hold his gaze, and instead turned to retrieve one of the fallen petals from the flowers she’d arranged on the walnut sideboard.

‘Of course I’m on the Pill,’ she snapped. ‘And I haven’t got any nasty diseases so you can breathe easy.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. However, this isn’t just about you—it’s about me. It was wrong of me not to protect you this morning. I was a little unprepared.’

She did glance up at him at that.

‘Shall I distribute condoms in each of the rooms just in case it happens again?’ she asked.

‘It won’t happen again,’ he stated implacably. ‘It must
not
happen again. Is that clear?’

‘So it’s all my fault now? How typically male! Just because you can’t control your own lust you conveniently throw it all back on me.’

‘You were extremely provocative—’

‘I was wearing a fluffy tracksuit, for God’s sake!’ Her voice rose in anger.

‘You’d look sexy in a garbage bag!’ he shouted.

‘You’d better turn the music back on,’ she threw back. ‘You’re shouting.’

‘I’m not—’ He ground his teeth and lowered his voice. ‘You are so damned annoying you’d make a mute person shout. I came home early to apologise—’

‘You came home to get yourself off the hook,’ she fired back. ‘Don’t worry—there’ll be no paternity suit from me. I wouldn’t dream of being so irresponsible as to contribute to the replication of your likeness.’

‘As I said on a previous occasion—you have a charming way with words.’

‘Yeah? Well, so do you.’ She turned away and plucked at the petals in her hand.

‘What are all the flowers for?’ he asked suddenly, noticing what she was doing. ‘Who died?’

‘This place is like a mausoleum. I thought it needed a little softening.’

‘You’re probably right. I don’t spend much time at home. I hadn’t noticed.’

There was a lengthy silence. Emily scrunched the petals to a mush in her hand and waited for him to continue the conversation.

‘I thought we could go out for a meal this evening,’ he said at last.

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Come now, Emily,’ he chided. ‘Humour me. I hate eating out alone and there’s a great Thai restaurant a few blocks from here.’

She felt herself wavering. What harm could it do to spend an evening with him? It wasn’t as if she had anything to lose. In fact, she stood to gain. What if he unknowingly revealed some information about Rose? What if she were actually to find out where she was living?

She joined him downstairs twenty minutes later, dressed in a black close-fitting top and silvery-grey slim-fitting trousers that clung lovingly to her toned thighs only to swing away at her ankles in shimmering folds. She’d left her honey-brown hair to fall about her shoulders, its soft curls framing her face.

‘I’m all out of garbage bags,’ she quipped as his eyes ran over her.

He chuckled. ‘Come on, you minx. I must have had rocks in my head to get mixed up with you.’

She didn’t respond. She was still trying to figure out her own motivations for tying herself to him. She was living in his house and bearing his name while the research notes of her book lay untouched. None of it made sense. Least of all her own treacherous heart.

T
HE
restaurant was busy but the head waiter quickly bustled across to escort them to a quiet table in the corner. Once they were seated with a chilled glass of Chardonnay in front of them Emily started to feel her shoulders relax a little. She sipped at her wine and examined the menu, all the while conscious of the strongly muscled legs occasionally touching hers under the narrow table.

‘What do you fancy?’

Emily blinked up at him, her eyes wide.

‘Do you like it hot or—’

‘Oh!’ She coloured delicately, a vision of their passionately joined bodies flashing through her brain. ‘I thought you were talking about something else. Sorry—yes, I don’t mind—anything will do.’

‘Are you as easy-going with your choice of men as you are with your food?’ he asked.

‘Apparently,’ she said, taking another hefty sip of her wine.

He waited until the waiter had taken their order before he spoke. ‘You have a very sharp wit, Emily, but eventually it will cause you a great deal of trouble.’

‘I didn’t realise you were into prophecy,’ she retorted. ‘I thought finance was your thing.’

‘How many men have you had?’ His question was abruptly delivered. She picked up her glass and eyeballed him questioningly over the rim.

‘Slept with. Had sex with,’ he clarified at her quirked brow.

She pretended to be making some sort of mental tally as
she twirled the glass in her hands. Then, after a pause, she shook her head.

‘Sorry, can’t quite remember. Never was all that good at maths. How about you? You’d have a well-tallied record, being in finance and all. How many women have you had?’

His mouth twisted into a reluctant smile. ‘Point taken. I’d momentarily forgotten about the Women’s Movement.’

She smiled back, suddenly enjoying this light-hearted banter. ‘I was worried there for a time that maybe I’d married a dinosaur.’

‘Why did you marry me, Emily?’

The question came from nowhere and startled her.

‘I…it seemed like a good idea at the time,’ she prevaricated.

‘For me, certainly,’ he acceded. ‘I stopped you writing your book in exchange for taking on your financial commitments. But what is it you get?’

She met his dark gaze levelly. ‘I get to be wined and dined and ravished on the kitchen table,’ she said flippantly, reaching again for her wine. ‘What more could a woman ask for?’

His brows met together in a frown. ‘Somehow I think you hide behind that mercurial wit for reasons I’m yet to discover.’

‘Prophecy, finance and psychology,’ she mused mockingly. ‘Mmm, you are a multi-skilled man.’

‘Tell me about your family.’ He swiftly changed the subject.

Her eyes skittered away from his. ‘I told you before, my parents died years ago.’

‘You also mentioned having two siblings.’

‘Did I?’ She marvelled at his keen memory but refused to be drawn any further. Discussions about her family were definitely off limits.

‘Brothers or sisters?’ he asked.

‘What is this?’ She frowned at him. ‘A career change for
you? Are you thinking of writing a biography on my family?’

‘You seem very defensive about a few simple questions,’ he observed.

‘That’s rich, coming from you,’ she shot back. ‘I can give you addresses and phone numbers, if you like. That’s more than you’ve given me.’

‘So, we’re back to that again, are we?’ His eyes narrowed as he looked across the table at her. ‘Still hankering after the elusive interview with Rose. Was that what this morning was about? Part of the buttering-up process?’

She considered slinging the contents of her wine glass in his face, but then realised it was already empty. His gaze followed her hand as it moved towards the full tumbler of water between them.

‘I wouldn’t if I were you,’ he warned, sliding his hand over hers. ‘Not unless you never want to eat in this restaurant again.’

Just then the waiter made a timely appearance with their food and Emily had to force her anger under some sort of control. She silently fumed, poking at the grains of rice on her plate, her appetite gone.

‘Try the green curry.’ Damien passed her the serving dish garnished with kaffir lime leaves. ‘It’s reputed to be the best in town.’

He spooned some on to her plate, the fragrant aroma teasing her nostrils. She prodded her fork at the succulent pieces of chicken in the creamy coconut sauce but didn’t carry any of it to her mouth.

‘Stop sulking,’ he said, after watching her toy with the food for endless minutes. ‘Personally, I don’t care if you eat it or not, but I resent having my own appetite spoilt by your petulance.’

‘I’m not sulking—I’m upset. When I’m upset I can’t eat.’

He gave an exasperated sigh and put down his fork. ‘Emily, I didn’t mean to upset you. I was just trying to make conversation with you. I wouldn’t have thought it was so
unreasonable for a husband to know about his wife’s family.’

‘Ditto.’

He gave her a hard look and she returned it with a sharp glance of her own.

‘I don’t wish to discuss my family. It’s no one’s business but my own.’

He picked up his glass and said derisively, ‘Quite frankly, the only reason I’m the slightest bit interested in your family background is to find out how the hell you got so screwed up.’

Emily got to her feet and, with utter disregard for the swivelling heads of the rest of the diners, stormed from the table without a backward glance.

He caught her before she even got to the street corner.

‘OK,’ he conceded, taking her arm, ‘that was a raw nerve. I won’t touch it in future.’

She tried to shake off his hold but his other arm came around her as well.

‘If you don’t let me go I’ll scream.’ She opened her mouth in readiness but before the sound could escape his lips closed over hers. She gave a token struggle, but his mouth was determined and his arms strong as they pulled her into the warm shield of his body. She tasted wine on his tongue as it stroked along hers, drawing it into active response against his.

Somehow it didn’t matter any more who was kissing whom. Damien’s mouth had overpowered hers to begin with, but now her lips were conducting their own assault. She nipped gently at his full bottom lip, tugging at it with her small white teeth. He gave her an answering nip and she slid her tongue into his mouth.

He pushed her back against a high garden wall out of the glow of the street light. His lower body ground against hers as his hands found her breasts through the silk of her top.

Suddenly he stopped. His breathing was as ragged as
hers as he stepped away from her, raking a hand through his dark hair. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but he shook his head warningly and pressed a none too gentle finger to her lips.

‘Don’t.’

‘Buffft,’ her lips protested against the pad of his finger.

He snagged her arm and began striding off towards his car, almost dragging her in his wake. Once in the car he drove silently but furiously towards home, his white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel cautioning her to remain silent.

She waited until they were back inside the house before she spoke. ‘Has the embargo on my speech been lifted, or am I to—?’

‘You do it deliberately, don’t you?’ His expression was thunderous as he loomed over her.

‘Do…do what?’

His jaw clenched in anger as he fought to keep control. ‘This act of beguiling charm you’re so good at. One minute the injured innocent, next the seductive siren.’

‘I’ve got no idea what you’re talking about.’

He gave a scornful grunt. ‘I can see what you’re up to, and I’ve got to admit I’m tempted to throw caution to the winds and take what’s on offer. But that would be playing right into your hands, now, wouldn’t it?’

Emily looked at him in bewilderment. ‘I think maybe I’ve missed something important. Can you back up a bit to that part about me looking sexy in a garbage bag?’

‘There!’ He threw a hand in the air expressively. ‘You’re doing it now.’

‘What am I doing?’ she asked, her eyes widening innocently.

‘Never mind.’ He turned away, thrusting his hands into his trouser pockets. ‘I’m going away for a few days. On business.’

‘When will you be back?’

‘I’m not sure,’ he said. ‘Two, maybe three days.’

‘You don’t have firm plans? I thought business people like you would run to very tight schedules.’

‘You’re starting to sound like a suspicious wife.’

She met his satirical gaze with a disdainful flash of her blue eyes.

‘I don’t care what mischief you get up to while you’re away. I’ll be too busy planning my own.’

His eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Careful, Emily,’ he warned. ‘Don’t forget the terms of our deal.’

‘Could you run them past me one more time?’ She blinked up at him guilelessly. ‘I’m a little hazy on the details.’

‘Don’t play games with me, little lady. You know the terms. If you step out of line by speaking to the press or pursuing this notion of tracking down my aunt behind my back, watch out. The legal system will come down on you so hard you won’t know what hit you.’

Emily lifted her chin defiantly. ‘And what will your law-yers say when I tell them you broke your part of the deal by having sex with me? Isn’t this supposed to be a paper marriage?’

He gave a contemptuous sneer. ‘I’d like to see you prove it. It’ll be your word against mine and I know who they’ll believe.’

‘You don’t have such a squeaky-clean image yourself,’ she retorted. ‘How is Mrs Janssen, by the way?’

His expression darkened with suppressed anger. ‘Be very careful, Emily. Careless words can come back to bite you.’

‘Are you in love with her?’ Emily asked baldly. ‘Or is it just good old lusty sex?’

‘I refuse to answer that.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s none of your business.’

‘Oh, well.’ She shrugged dismissively. ‘I don’t care either way as long as you don’t paw me instead when she’s not available.’

‘That’s a despicable thing to say,’ he ground out.

She gave a cynical little laugh. ‘At least you’ll be telling her the truth when you say your wife doesn’t understand you. That usually reels them in, doesn’t it?’

‘I wouldn’t know—you tell me. You’re the one with the track record with married men. What did Raife Norton-Floyd do to lure you? Or were you his just for the asking?’

‘I don’t wish to partake in this conversation.’ She swung away, her colour high.

‘That’s a little inconsistent of you, isn’t it, Emily? You’ve taken pot shots at me all evening, but you don’t like it when the tables are turned, do you?’

She turned back to glare at him. ‘There would be absolutely no point in me discussing any of this with you because you’ve already made up your mind about me, and nothing I could say or do will change it.’

‘Go on, try me,’ he challenged her. ‘Tell me you didn’t have a rip-roaring affair with Norton-Floyd to get inside information on that funding scheme he was involved in. And tell me you didn’t chase after my brother to filch photos and journals you had no business seeing.’

Emily couldn’t think of a word to say in her own defence. She’d been caught off-guard with Raife. He’d been so polished and she so innocent she hadn’t seen the poten-tial for the disaster that eventually occurred. With Danny, she’d been lonely and he’d been friendly. She’d used him, but then, hadn’t he used her as well?

‘Your silence condemns you,’ Damien said.

Emily turned her back on him on her way to the door, her lips clamped tight against the anger that threatened to spew out of her mouth.

‘What?’ he taunted her. ‘No stinging parting shot?’

She paused, her hand frozen on the doorknob as she mentally counted to ten.

‘I have nothing I wish to say to you,’ she bit out.

‘Not even goodnight?’

She swung back to face him. ‘No, not even goodnight. I
hope you have a bad night—a rotten night. I hope you toss and turn and your pillow feels like lead and—’

He laughed out loud. Emily’s tenuous hold on her temper snapped and she stomped back across the room to push a finger against his chest, her eyes sparking with venom.

‘Don’t you laugh at me!’

Damien captured her hand and she pulled against his hold, her nails embedding themselves into his palm.

‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ He undid the clench of her fingers and, grasping both hands in one of his large ones, held them over her head.

Emily felt the wall at her back and the press of his strongly muscled thighs on hers. Her chest heaved with impotent rage against his, her breasts rising and falling against him.

‘Let me go, you bastard!’

‘I just love it when you talk dirty,’ he drawled.

‘You won’t when I talk dirty to the press,’ she threatened recklessly. ‘When I tell them all about your affair with Mrs Janssen and about the way you forced me to marry you to cover it up.’

His brow furrowed, his hand still holding hers above her head. ‘Is that what you think?’

‘Isn’t it true?’ She glared at him frostily.

He shrugged one shoulder. ‘I thought I’d made my reasons for marrying you quite clear. I wanted to stop your book being written.’

She flicked her eyes upwards to her hands in his hold. ‘You wanted control of me, not just the book.’

The corner of his mouth lifted in a half-smile. ‘Now, that’s what I would call an impossible task. You don’t even have control of yourself, let alone anyone else being able to manage it.’

‘That’s because you make me lose control!’ she said crossly.

‘Is that so?’ His brow lifted speculatively as his eyes ran over her breasts, still rising and falling against his chest.

‘I don’t mean that way.’ Her tone was scathing.

‘Don’t you?’

‘Of course not!’

‘Then what was all that about in the kitchen this morning?’

‘That…that was…an accident.’

‘An accident?’ His lip curled expressively.

‘It was your fault,’ she accused. ‘You started it.’

‘And you could’ve finished it at any time, but you didn’t. I wonder why, Emily?’ he mused. ‘I wonder why?’

‘You’ve got tickets on yourself if you think it was anything other than the most basic animal attraction,’ she spat back.