A Price Worth Paying?

by Trish Morey

  For a moment the other woman looked perplexed. ‘I like him, yes, and it is a good match,’ she said before nodding, as if agreeing with her own words. ‘Together our families will create a new dynasty. He will love me, of course.’

  Simone found a smile for Ezmerelda and this time it was genuine. What kind of life must she have, waiting for a man who showed no inclination to marry her—indeed, who flaunted his women in front of her? ‘Then I do understand. Thank you so much for taking the time to share that with me.’

  The Spanish woman sighed and swivelled in front of the mirror, checking the view from every angle, before snapping her purse closed, her smile back on and in full force. ‘I’m so pleased we had this little chat. I should get back to the party now.’

  ‘You should,’ Simone agreed as the other woman headed for the door. ‘Oh, and Ezmerelda?’

  ‘Sí?’

  ‘You look stunning in that gown. You are far and away the most beautiful woman here tonight.’

  And the other woman smiled. ‘Sí,’ she said, and slipped out of the room, leaving Simone staring blankly at the door, trying to get her head together. Alesander had asked if she had a boyfriend, but she hadn’t thought to ask him if there was someone in his life who would be upset by his marriage. She’d assumed he would never have said yes if there was.

  But now there was Ezmerelda, who clearly thought she was first in line to marry him. And she might not love him, she might be all kinds of crazy to wait for a man who clearly had no intention of marrying her, but when their engagement was announced, she was going to be devastated.

  How could she do this?

  ‘I thought I’d lost you,’ Alesander said when finally she emerged from the powder room, handing her a fresh glass of wine before walking her slowly towards French windows that led to a terrace overlooking the garden.

  ‘I would have been back much sooner, but your girlfriend and apparently my new best friend wanted to have a little heart-to-heart with me.’

  ‘My girlfriend?’

  She rolled her eyes. Were there so many of them that he lost track? ‘Ezmerelda, of course.’

  ‘About the dress?’

  She sipped her wine as she stepped out into the balmy night air and a courtyard strung with fairy lights. ‘Words were spoken about the dress, it’s true, although strangely enough the main topic of the conversation was you.’

  ‘Should I be worried?’

  The lights reflected in his eyes, turning them playful. She wanted to smack him.

  ‘I was warned off you because apparently your families have an “understanding” and you’re practically betrothed. Imagine my surprise.’

  He took her hand in his and lifted it to his mouth, his hot lips like a brand upon her skin. ‘Imagine Ezmerelda’s surprise when she learns that we are to be married.’

  She pulled her hand away, wishing he wouldn’t do that thing with her hand and his mouth. Wishing even more that she didn’t shiver every time he did.

  ‘You’re not planning on telling her our arrangement is only temporary, then?’

  ‘Why would I do that?’

  ‘Why wouldn’t you, if you cared anything for this woman who claims to be the next best thing to your fiancėe? Unless, of course, you don’t care anything for her. Then again, given you’re the man who bought the dress she had reserved for another woman to wear to the same party and then stood back to watch the fireworks, I’d conclude you don’t care much for her at all. I’d even be willing to conclude you don’t even like her.’

  He looked around, checking to make sure they were not overheard, before dipping his head and continuing in a low voice that rumbled over her skin. ‘Let’s just say Ezmerelda is not my idea of a happily ever after, whatever our respective mothers may have concocted during their regular coffee mornings.’

  She shrugged the stroke of voice on skin away. ‘So you really played me for a fool. You didn’t really need the vines to seal this deal at all, did you?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘That whole “What’s in it for me?” argument of yours was a crock all along. My proposal was just what you needed to get Ezmerelda off your back.’

  ‘I am quite capable of dealing with Ezmerelda with or without your intervention.’

  ‘But marrying me does provide you with a handy out. She can’t marry you if you’ve already got a wife. I bet you’re hoping she’s got her talons in someone else before our marriage is over.’

  ‘I admit there may have been an element of that in my deliberations.’

  ‘So I didn’t have to sign over the vines at all. There was already plenty in it for you.’

  ‘But you did sign them over.’

  ‘But if I’d known about Ezmerelda—’

  ‘That’s just it,’ he said, downing the rest of his glass and placing it on the tray of a passing waiter. ‘You didn’t.’

  She turned away, feeling as if she’d been duped. Worse, she felt used. She’d thought they’d negotiated a deal when he’d held all the cards to begin with. Felipe had told her to watch him and he was right. Alesander was as ruthless as they came.

  And it didn’t matter to know that her future waited for her half a world away. A vineyard halfway up a mountain in northern Spain was no good to her as it was, but she could have sold it. Alesander would have bought it, even if it was overgrown and neglected. She could have got something for it. Instead she’d practically given it to him and now she’d be going home as penniless as when she’d arrived.

  ‘Cheer up,’ he said. ‘You don’t look like you’re having fun.’

  ‘Oh, I am,’ she lied. ‘I’m having immense fun debating when to confide to my new best friend that all is not lost, that maybe things aren’t as dire as they seem and that she may well still get her man, slightly used but none the worse for wear. But do I tell her before the wedding, or after?’

  He bristled. She saw it in the flex of his shoulders and the set of a jaw that had gone from smug to stiff in a heartbeat. ‘You wouldn’t dare risk the news getting out and getting back to Felipe.’

  ‘You’re right, I wouldn’t. But it was so worth the look on your face to say it.’

  ‘You have a strange sense of humour, Miss Hamilton.’

  ‘Miss Hamilton? We are formal, aren’t we? I suspect I must have made you angry for some reason.’

  ‘On the contrary, but you do have a habit of taking me by surprise at times.’

  ‘Do I? That’s actually a good thing, isn’t it? It would be awful being stuck together for even ten minutes if we bored each other senseless.’

  Oh, there was no chance of that, he thought.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘I won’t have to tell Ezmerelda anything, because you’re going to tell her that you’re getting married and to someone else first.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Before you make any public announcement of our impending marriage, you will take Ezmerelda aside and let her know that we are getting married. And I don’t care what you think of her or what kind of person she might be, she deserves to hear it from you first. She deserves that much consideration at least.’

  Now he was angry. He looked down at her coldly. He wasn’t used to being told what to do, let alone by a pint-sized woman who without her spiky heels barely came up to his shoulder. But, worst of all, he supposed she might actually be right. The last thing they needed when he made the announcement was a scene.

  Though he’d wager that wasn’t what was motivating Simone. If he didn’t know better, he’d actually think she felt sorry for Ezmerelda, which made no sense at all, given the way she hadn’t hesitated to warn her off.

  And that was something new. As far as he knew, she’d never done that before. Or maybe nobody else had ever been game enough to tell him. This woman was, not to mention game enough to tell him to put her out of her misery as part of the deal. His doorstep bride really was turning out to be a surprise package indeed.

  He looked around at the thinning crowd. He’d
thought about making the announcement tonight when there were still enough people to witness the news to guarantee its rapid spread, but Simone did have a point. He didn’t want to ruin Markel’s party by creating a scene.

  ‘Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes?’

  She raised one eyebrow in question—a question he chose to ignore. ‘I’ll be fine. And look, here comes Markel.’ The older man joined them, his ruddy cheeks even redder, his greying hair spiking up above one ear. ‘Markel,’ she said, ‘I don’t suppose you could look after me while Alesander runs off to take care of some business?’

  ‘Gladly,’ he said, looping her arm through his. ‘Nothing would give me greater pleasure. You can tell me all about Australia. Tell me, is it true they sell wine in cardboard boxes there?’

  ‘It is true, though it created all sorts of problems in the industry.’

  ‘Oh,’ he said, all ears. ‘Why is that?’

  ‘Nobody could work out how to make square grapes.’

  It was the lamest attempt at a joke she’d ever made, but Markel roared with laughter, his good birthday humour clearly alcohol assisted.

  Remarkable, Alesander thought as he drifted out of earshot, searching the crowd for a familiar face—now she told jokes? What other hidden talents did the woman possess?

  There were some that weren’t so much hidden as suggested. Just thinking of her in that dress, there were some he wouldn’t mind having revealed. From the moment he’d arrived to pick her up and seen her wearing it again, the split from toe to thigh over one leg and the bodice wrapped low over her breasts, he’d wanted to do nothing more than to peel it off. He’d stewed the whole way here, wondering how he was going to do just that and still comply with the terms of the agreement. He’d held her close during the tango display, wishing it would go on for ever so he could feel her close to him.

  He knew he wasn’t the only man who’d lusted after her tonight. He knew the look and he’d recognised it in other men’s eyes. And just the thought of others thinking the same made his breath growl in his throat. He needed them to know she was his—truly his.

  His eyes scanned the ballroom.

  So why had he agreed to this no-sex rule? What was the point of it? Forced contraception? They could easily prevent an unwanted pregnancy—people did it all the time.

  No, she’d turned up on his doorstep looking like a stray—no wonder he’d agreed to her no sex condition. But that was then.

  Now he could see what she’d been hiding under her too big clothes. Now he wanted to see more.

  And it wasn’t enough to marry her. He needed to stamp her with his ownership so that everyone would know, without a shadow of a doubt, that she was his in every sense of the word.

  She would agree.

  There was no question she would agree.

  Because he’d make sure she had no choice.

  He caught sight of a familiar flash of colour across the room, heard a familiar laugh and saw greedy eyes turn his way, lighting up when they saw he was alone.

  Yes, he looked forward to the coming contract renegotiations with another woman, but first he had a job to do.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE DRESS WAS definitely the problem. Alesander watched her entertaining her circle of admirers and thought he should have let her choose one of the other gowns, as spectacular as they had been. But they had been nothing in comparison with this one, that turned woman into siren, hinting at what lay beneath if one was only reckless enough to try.

  He was reckless enough to try.

  Maybe if Ezmerelda had worn this dress tonight, nobody would have noticed Simone.

  Then she laughed at something Markel had said and he saw the sparkle in her eyes and the warmth in her smile and he knew the dress would have made no difference. It was Simone who made the difference. Maybe the dress caught people’s eye, but it was Simone herself who held their attention. The trouble was, there were too many people taking notice.

  Correction—there were too many men.

  He’d left her for what? All of fifteen minutes and yet now she was surrounded by them, Markel still there in the midst of them, no doubt wishing he was thirty years younger.

  And he knew why they were there.

  Because she was beautiful and desirable and they all thought she was his latest plaything and they were lining up for a piece of her when he was done.

  And it was his fault. Because he’d never before been seen with a woman on his arm who he wasn’t sleeping with and meaning to dispose of. He’d never before been seen with a woman who wasn’t temporary.

  He swallowed back on the bitter taste of bile at the back of his throat. Well, this woman might be temporary but he wasn’t sleeping with her.

  Not yet.

  But he’d soon fix that.

  He made his way across the room towards them, knowing it was right to have decided what he had, already anticipating the pleasures that were to come. Finding a smile came easily, so easily in fact that she looked up at him and frowned and he realised he’d already forgotten about his little chat with Ezmerelda.

  That made his smile widen even further.

  Anticipation was a fine thing.

  There must have been something in his eyes, for the other men drifted away, back to their own women, leaving only Markel, who snagged his arm as soon as he came close. ‘You are a lucky man, Alesander. Simone is not only a beautiful woman, but she is clever and entertaining. Promise me you will not deprive us of her company in the future.’

  ‘You’re in luck, Markel, as it happens,’ he said, sliding a proprietorial arm around Simone, who looked more confused than ever. ‘I wasn’t going to say anything—it is your birthday celebration after all, but there will be another party very soon and one to which you’re invited, because a little earlier tonight Simone agreed to become my wife.’

  ‘Your wife?’ Markel blinked his surprise. ‘But this is wonderful news!’

  ‘I hoped you’d think so. I know Isobel and your wife had other plans.’

  Markel waved the younger man’s concerns away before laying his hand on Alesander’s shoulder. ‘As much as I would love to have you as my son-in-law, it was clear to me it was never going to happen. There was never any spark between you two. I tried to tell Ezmerelda that.’ He shrugged. ‘She chose not to listen. Her mother had put all kinds of fanciful notions into her head and she preferred to believe those.’

  ‘I’ve already spoken to her tonight to let her know before she heard via other means.’

  ‘Bueno. That was thoughtful of you.’ Markel sighed wistfully. ‘And perhaps it is good you are getting married because now she will forget her foolish dreams and finally see that there are other men in the world. I can only hope.

  ‘As for you two,’ he said, taking both their hands in his meaty hand, ‘I wish you every success and many, many fine sons.’

  ‘How did Ezmerelda take it?’ she asked when they were in the car and heading towards Getaria. ‘Was it rough?’

  He changed gears to take a bend, the car sticking to the road like glue. ‘She cried.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘And then she pleaded.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘And then she wished us all the best in our married life.’ He didn’t tell her the rest, that she’d said she’d noticed they had a connection from the moment she’d seen them together and that was why she’d followed Simone to warn her off, because she’d never before felt so threatened. There were some things that sat uncomfortably with him. There were some things that Simone didn’t need to know.

  ‘That was nice of her, in the circumstances.’

  ‘Sí, but it was good of you to think of telling her. That would not have occurred to me. It shows a generous spirit.’

  She laughed at that. ‘I don’t know about that. I just wish we didn’t have to deceive everyone this way. I never thought it would be so complicated. I was thinking only of Felipe when I came up with this plan and I never realised oth
er people might get hurt by it. Like Markel. He’s a nice man. I like him.’

  ‘Markel is a good man.’

  ‘I’m truly sorry he’s going to be disappointed.’

  ‘You mean because of the marriage ending?’

  ‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘But also because of all those fine sons you’re not going to have.’

  He smiled. He was in too good a mood not to. Tomorrow he would ask Felipe for Simone’s hand in marriage. He didn’t expect the old man to be happy about it, but he’d come around, just as soon as he realised it would mean the Otxoa family fortunes finally shifting in the right direction.

  And then, as soon as he’d secured his agreement, he’d tell Simone he was changing the terms. She might not like it—no, more like it, she would hate it—but by then it would be too late.

  And she would be his, in every sense of the word.

  ‘What’s the rush?’ demanded Felipe at lunch the next day. ‘You barely know each other.’

  The three of them were sitting outside, the table set under an ancient pergola creaking under the weight of overgrown vines, sunlight filtering through the dense forest of leaves while far below them the sunlight turned the sea sparkling. Alesander had come over ostensibly to do some more work on the vines when she’d lured Felipe outside to enjoy the mild weather while it lasted. Over lunch, after they’d shared a bottle of last season’s Txakolina wine that she was beginning to acquire a taste for, Felipe pouring it from a great height into tumblers to give life to the bubbles and clearly enjoying himself. And after lunch Alesander had asked Felipe for permission to marry her.

  ‘Sometimes you just know, Abuelo.’ Simone had expected the request to come as a shock and it had. Felipe’s initial prejudices towards Alesander were softening each and every time he visited, she could tell, but there were still too many decades of rivalry between the neighbouring families to be calmly put aside.

  ‘But marriage? Already?’

  ‘It’s not so soon. It will still take a month for the paperwork to be processed. The wedding won’t take place until after harvest.’

  He frowned. ‘Do you love her?’ he asked Alesander pointedly.