The Billionaire Bundle

by Michele De Winton

  “Okay, that sounds like a very good idea.” She’d had quite enough of the happy extended family scenario. It was time to play dirty. She didn’t much care if Ricardo noticed the glint in her eye as she picked up a big smelly pair of muddy boots. He’d bloody asked for it, being so disgustingly well mannered and charming around her mum. She wanted to see him squirm. “These are for you. Darling.”

  “That went well,” Ricardo said as they trudged uphill towards a wooden stile on the edge of a meadow. “Your parents seem to like me. We make a convincing pair.”

  Helen shot him a cold look. She’d felt like a fight since dessert and was delighted that he hadn’t noticed her kick a streak of wet manure up his back when he wasn’t looking. “We’re alone now, so you can stop acting as if you’re actually a nice person. Having said that, you’re really very good at it. Acting that is. It comes with practice, I suppose.”

  Ricardo stopped walking and let out a hollow laugh. “It baffles me how people as nice as your parents managed to produce such a misery for a daughter. It doesn’t seem biologically possible somehow. What made you so sour?”

  “You.”

  “What?” He started walking again. “You entered into this agreement willingly. No one held a gun to your head. You appear to need my money more than I need a difficult new bride, however much you turn me on.”

  Helen felt her cheeks burn as a sharp arrow of sexual awareness found its target. She felt like such a hypocrite. Their rapidly approaching wedding night was never far from her mind. If he could inflame her senses with one brooding flick of an eye, heaven only knew what would happen if she ever let him touch her naked flesh.

  “Anyway,” Ricardo said swinging his athletic frame over the stile, faded denim stretching tight for a moment over his thighs and backside, “what’s the money for?”

  Helen hadn’t been expecting that question. Ricardo had advanced her half the money, and she’d cleared her parents’ debts the same day. She hated lying to them, but had convinced them she’d arranged a new financing package while she was in Ibiza. A long-term deal with a Spanish financial institution, secured on her future earnings.

  The deception was horrible, but she could never tell them what she’d really done to get the money. They’d be appalled. Added to that, her father was a proud and independent man. He’d allow his family to pitch in. After all, Helen was an only child and would ultimately inherit, but he’d hate for any one else to know the mess they were in. Rightly or wrongly he would feel ashamed of what he viewed as his failure to protect his assets and family’s future. And to be bailed out by his future son-in law? That would be unthinkable.

  Helen was clear in her own mind that her parents didn’t need to know the truth, and neither did Ricardo. “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Helen said. “It’s not going to fund anything illegal if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  “That hadn’t crossed my mind at all until you mentioned it. Spiraling debts, was it?”

  “Something like that,” Helen conceded, in an attempt to satisfy his curiosity.

  “Too many designer handbags, eh?” he said mockingly, and cast a glance over the small leather backpack she was carrying. “You women are such suckers.”

  Helen simmered with fury. She’d never bought a designer item in her life, not even from a charity shop! But she couldn’t let him know that. “We all make mistakes,” she said in a flustered tone. “Don’t try and tell me you haven’t, Ricardo. This stupid bet of yours must count as one.”

  “That’s an entirely different situation.” His expression was as hard as stone. “A matter of honor, as I told you before.”

  “Yeah, right.” Helen didn’t even try to hide the scorn in her voice. “Not some playboy antics that got out of hand after too much beer, then?”

  The muscles in his jaw twitched with annoyance as he stared angrily out over the teal and grey estuary marshland. “It’s very refreshing here.” He poked at a plant with his foot. “What’s that stuff down there? I’m sure I’ve eaten it at The Savoy before, is that possible?”

  “Every possibility,” Helen said as she picked a little of the fleshy plant for him to try. She studied the sweep of his nose and the way his nostrils flared slightly as he stared at the ground. She’d noticed his sudden change of subject—she’d touched a raw nerve. “It’s samphire. Some people call it sea asparagus. It does set off a plate of seafood quite prettily.”

  “It tastes like the air smells,” he said thoughtfully as he studied the slender green plant between his fingertips. “Salt and ozone. Nice. It’s a good place here, you know. I could picture a really nice marina development. The views are fantastic and the access to the shipping channels would be a real selling point—”

  “You wouldn’t be the first to have the idea, believe me.”

  “Really? Anyone I’ve have heard of? I do a lot of business over here, mainly in London, but it’s a small world.”

  “Lady Lidia Skiptree. She owns a lot of land around here. She also spends most of her time in London from what I can gather. Buying stuff. You may well have bumped into each other in The Savoy,” she added with a dry look. “I imagine she’d take quite a shine to you, Ricardo. She has appalling taste.”

  “You don’t get on then?” He rocked back on his heels, the wind whipping his hair into black spikes. “The name isn’t familiar, so I don’t think we’ve met. Which is a pity because she sounds fun.”

  Helen scowled, acutely aware of the flare of indignation she felt at his apparent interest in her. Skiptree, her nemesis. “She’d eat you alive.”

  “There’s no way she could be as bad as one particular Brit that took a shine to me a few years back.” He let out a low whistle as he stared into the middle distance. “She’d make your average bunny boiler look like Tinker Bell.”

  “I rather like the sound of her, in that case. Pity she didn’t finish the job.”

  “Charming.” He glanced up at the darkening clouds. “We’d better be heading back. Our flight is scheduled to leave in three hours, and I still have to ask your father for your hand. Do you think they will be happy with their new son-in-law to be?”

  “I’m sure they will be delighted.”

  Helen turned away and sharply marched back down to the farmhouse. She could hear his breath as he followed close behind. It was like being chased to the ground by the hounds of hell. There was no going back on her immoral deal now. Everything in her life was about to change, and the dull ache in her belly grew stronger with every step.

  Chapter Four

  “Welcome to Casa Colina, one of my Spanish mainland bases.” Ricardo gestured towards the enormous building. “Much more private and luxurious than the best hotel in Marbella. And I should know because I own that one too.”

  He dismissed the white chauffeured Mercedes, and took Helen’s arm with the confident touch of a man comfortable in his own skin, master of all he surveyed. There was no denying it was a view to die for. Perched high up over Puerto Banus, the Mediterranean sparkled, and the panorama stretched all the way along the golden coast against a backdrop of dramatic mountains. The house was a slab of blinding white against the deep blues and greens that surrounded it, like a star between sea and sky. It was worth millions. Stepping onto a marble terrace, Helen let the warm breeze fill her lungs, while the Andalucian sun dazzled her eyes and the pungency of Mediterranean herbs tingled her palate.

  “Everything has been made ready for our arrival. Will it do for a few days?” Ricardo asked.

  “It’s amazing, I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Ricardo chuckled. “You have no idea who you’re marrying, do you? There are more houses like this. It’s one of the ways I make my money.”

  “Oh.” She touched the waxy petals of a pink hibiscus flower. “So you don’t just have a woman in every port. You have a mansion to stick her in as well.”

  He shrugged. “Enjoy it while you can. Carlos Andretti, the designer, and his people are
descending in thirty minutes to start on your dress. Then there’s the wedding organizer, so decide what sort of civil ceremony you want. Not to mention the beautician, hairdresser, and holistic therapist my team has organized. You’re going to be a very busy woman in the coming days arranging the wedding of your dreams.”

  “The wedding of my dreams?” Helen laughed bitterly. “Do you want any say? Or is it all up to me?”

  “Do what you like.” He sighed, which she took as a sign he was becoming bored. “If you can’t be bothered or can’t cope, I will deal with the arrangements. But going by my experience of women, you’ll do a very good job of it with unlimited resources at your disposal.”

  Helen suddenly felt deflated. Women really didn’t feature highly on his list of favorite things, sex aside. “What about your parents? Will they want to vet me? Or am I to be an irrelevance to the entire Almanza family?”

  Ricardo ignored her question and strolled towards a wine cooler positioned in the shade of a vine-covered alcove. He grabbed a chilled bottle of Cava and ripped off the gold foil covering the cork, before filling two crystal flutes. Helen watched the froth rise with a frenzy and then subside.

  “My mother is dead.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted before she could offer a condolence.

  “And my father is dead.” He handed her a glass and took a sip from his own. “I had a brother, who is also dead.” His expression was as hard as granite. “That is all there is to say about my family. Your family, your parents, are good people. I like them a lot. Let’s make it an occasion for them, yes? You never know, we might get to enjoy it too.”

  Helen felt her hands, head, and sternum prickle. She suddenly felt cold and nauseous. She managed to put her glass on a side table with a clatter and then swayed towards the balcony.

  “Hey!” Ricardo swiftly grabbed her elbow to support her. “I think you need to get some rest.”

  “No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine,” she replied weakly, annoyed with herself for behaving like a swooning wimp, but also disturbed by her loss of physical control.

  Ricardo lifted her effortlessly into his arms and began to head for the inner cool of the house. “I disagree.”

  …

  Half an hour later Ricardo stroked a lock of hair from Helen’s forehead as she slept. She was very endearing for such a blatant money grabber. “You don’t fool me,” he whispered. “You’re just like all the others.” She was after all she could get, but as he watched her eyelids flicker, he suddenly felt bizarrely protective. He wondered what she was dreaming about…

  Guilt began to nibble at him. Was he having second thoughts because her parents were being duped? Or was it because she had been maneuvered into a marriage she didn’t want?

  No. He needed to get a grip. She knew what she was doing, and it was all down to hard, cold cash. She might look above suspicion sleeping like an angel on his bed, but there was no mistaking the black diamond that masqueraded for a heart inside her.

  There were distinct advantages in controlling a bank. Conveniently, the parent company of where Helen had her current account was under his majority ownership. He’d been keeping a close eye on it, and noted with interest that the million she’d asked for up front had already been transferred to another high street lender. She must certainly have debts. That wasn’t his problem, however, and her financial woes were proving to be advantageous to him. If she needed amounts of such a size and with such urgency, she wouldn’t walk out on him before the wedding ceremony. He was also looking forward to three months of pleasuring her luscious body in his bed. The prospect was more exciting than anything he could remember in a long time.

  …

  The doorbell rang insistently causing Helen to awake with a start. Coming slowly to her senses, she registered where she was, and then, to her horror, realized that Ricardo was smiling down on her from the other side of the bed.

  “How long have you been here?” she asked sharply.

  “About half an hour,” he said with a lazy smile. “You were yelling about something. Must have been some nightmare.”

  “This whole situation is a nightmare,” she grumbled and pushed herself into an upright position. She had no recollection of having a bad dream. “So don’t be too upset if I snore as well. You might want to rethink the honeymoon arrangements, like separate rooms.”

  “No way.” His reply was slow and deliberate. “You don’t get off the hook that easily.” The doorbell rang again. “You have to earn the balance of the two million, and you still owe me on the down payment, remember?”

  Helen focused on the hollow at the base of his throat, visible above the white collar of his shirt. With the top two buttons left open, his smooth, tanned skin would tempt a saint. She quickly swallowed down a spike of desire. He would be incredible to go to bed with. How could he not to be with a body like that?

  “How could I forget?” she said with a croaky voice. “But I hope you won’t be disappointed when I remind you that the answer is still no. I will not willingly sleep with you. It could be a pretty dull three months, unless you’ve planned out the divorce too? Will it be adultery? Yours?”

  “Am I really that awful? You never know, being my wife might not be that bad. There are plenty of others out there who would leap at the chance. For free.”

  She stared belligerently out of the tall window opposite the bed, biting down on her bottom lip. He was right and they both knew it. “You don’t need my approval. Your ego’s big enough to cope on its own.”

  Ricardo let out an irritated sigh. “Have it your way. I don’t want to make your life any more unpleasant than it has to be, or mine for that matter. And by the way, are you sure you wouldn’t like to consult my doctor? I had a chat with him yesterday, on behalf of a ‘friend,’ and he said an implant’s a safe method—”

  “You don’t own me! How about you take some responsibility? I’ve complied with the terms of your contract and it’s dealt with. My choice. A method I can stop using the minute our ‘arrangement’ ends, or even sooner with any luck. I even made sure your lawyers got a certificate proving I’ve done as you asked. God, you must have a low opinion of me, trapping a man with an unplanned baby is something I would never do under any circumstances.”

  He was silent, but raised a sardonic eyebrow.

  “What would I gain anyway? Your lawyer’s got every possible event covered in the pre-nuptial agreement.” She shot him a look of venom. “Or do you think I might want a permanent reminder of my lovely time as your wife? An image of the great and gorgeous Ricardo Almanza. I don’t want anything from you.”

  “You want my money.”

  Helen dared not look him in the eye. She could already picture the dark scowl that her last outburst would have caused, and she had no defense. She did want his money. She needed it.

  “So about this wedding,” Ricardo said. “I assume you want the works? Tons of white silk, champagne, flowers, confetti. Am I right?”

  Helen studied her nails and assumed the most superior tone she could manage. “Who’s coming from your side?”

  “Is it important?”

  “I am vaguely interested, as it happens, yes.”

  “That’s entirely up to you, querida. I’m not bothered.”

  Helen turned her head to meet his amber gaze. “What I’d really like is a quiet, quick affair with the least fuss possible.”

  Ricardo looked at her as if she was mad. “Seriously?”

  “Completely.” She looked him coldly in the eye. “It’s not as if any of this is real, is it?”

  “No. I suppose not.” Ricardo shrugged. “Obviously, I have to invite the guy who I have the bet with, Jerardo Capella, and then there has to be at least one more witness.”

  “The Condesa?”

  Ricardo snorted. “Maybe not. She still isn’t speaking to me after I stole her best girl. And, anyway, I hate her almost as much as Capella.”

  “You said it has to be authentic, though
.It seems a shame that you had to meet my parents and go through that charade to risk having your secret uncovered at the last minute.”

  “No risk. Quick private ceremonies are becoming increasingly popular with those who value their privacy and don’t need the cash from glossy gossip magazines to pay for it all. Especially when the bride is already pregnant.”

  Helen gasped with horror. “You wouldn’t…”

  “No need to, darling. We just decline to comment, smile sweetly, and let the gossip mongers make up their own minds. They will come up with outrageous conclusions, don’t you worry.” He then looked at her thoughtfully. “Are you sure a quiet wedding is what you want?”

  “This is just a big game, remember? I’d feel a lot happier if I didn’t have to witness my mother’s tears of joy.”

  “So you do have a conscience? But what will you tell her?”

  “I’ll think of something.” Helen winced as the doorbell and the telephone started to ring simultaneously. “But please tell all these people to go away, will you? I can’t stand it!”

  Ricardo leapt to his feet with a large grin. “You have no idea how happy that would make me.”

  “It’ll save you a few quid as well.”

  “This is for you,” he said, tossing a blue velvet box onto the bed before strolling towards the door. He turned to see Helen’s nimble fingers flip it open, revealing an enormous diamond and platinum engagement ring inside.

  He couldn’t decide if her shocked gasp was joy or dismay, and as the doorbell rang again, he didn’t really care. It was only money.

  …

  Helen padded barefoot into a blaze of early morning sunshine. On the villa’s terrace, Ricardo’s broad shoulders dominated the back of a cane chair and the white cotton robe he wore did nothing to soften his masculine angles. His jet-black hair was still wet from showering, and trembled like short reeds in the light morning breeze. Helen was rooted to the spot for a moment as the cool marble floor seeped into the warmth of her soles and she took in the sight of him. She watched as he reached for a coffee cup, long dexterous fingers wrapping themselves around the curve of the porcelain, threading themselves sinuously through the handle. She remembered how he’d done the same with her hair on the Condesa’s terrace when she’d sold her soul to him. The memory was still fresh. The way he had kissed her. She shivered in spite of the heat.