As he’d been relating the sordid details, Carrie’s face had turned ashen. She paced a few steps then spun around. ‘Why didn’t you tell me? If Violet tried to seduce you... If any of this is true...’ Her eyes found his, censure merging with the bewilderment.
‘I left it to the school to fill you in on what your sister had been up to.’
‘The school...?’ Fresh fury wiped the ashen complexion from her face. ‘The headmistress didn’t give us even two minutes of her time. All she told us was that drugs had been found in Violet’s personal effects and that she was expelled. She kicked her out just like that.’ She snapped her fingers for emphasis. ‘You should have called me as soon as you found them. I was her guardian. I should have been told.’
Andreas hardened himself to the guilty feeling pooling in his stomach and rose to his feet, walking over to look her in the eye. ‘After the stunt Violet pulled I wanted nothing more to do with either of you. If I am being honest I assumed she had learned her tricks from you...’
Almost too late he saw the hand come flying towards him and only just managed to snatch hold of the wrist before the fingers connected with his face.
CHAPTER SIX
HOLDING HER STRUGGLING wrist up in the air, Andreas stared into the furious hazel eyes. ‘Let me finish. At the time I made the assumption she had learned to seduce a man through watching you, her older sister. That was my mistake and I apologise for it—I was angrier than I have ever been and incredibly worried for my niece, who told me the next morning that Violet had been in and out of different boys’ beds for months. What would you have done in my position? What would you have done if it had been Natalia running wild and dragging Violet down with her?’
She’d stopped her struggle against his hold. For a moment the anger disappeared to be replaced with sadness. ‘If it had been the other way round I would have told you. Violet needed help not condemnation. If I had been told then...’ She sighed, seeming to deflate with the motion. ‘It probably wouldn’t have made any difference. The damage had already been done. Violet had been sleeping around—the naïve fool thought it would make James jealous. She was desperate for him to take her back, totally unable to accept they were over, and she had no one to talk to about it. He’d made her keep it a secret and I think that screwed with her head as much as anything but she’d been completely under his spell. I only discovered the truth after the expulsion.’
And now, as she recalled the horror and despair she’d felt when Violet had made her confession, she felt the same guilt that she’d been so unaware that her darling baby sister had had an affair with a rich man old enough to be her father and who had fed her all the drugs she could consume.
Slowly it penetrated that Andreas’s hold on her wrist had loosened and slid down to cover her hand. She shook it off and stepped back. She didn’t want his sympathy.
Even with all the anger and hate that had flown between them there had still lived in Carrie a basic toxic awareness of him that her brain had no control over. Her hand zinged from his hold, causing a thrashing in her chest that echoed loudly in her ears.
She forced out a long breath and fought to think clearly.
She mustn’t let his touch affect her thoughts.
But he didn’t even need to touch her to make her react.
Moments ago she’d been inches from hitting him. She’d never hit anyone before, never even come close, and the violence she felt towards him terrified her as much as anything else.
When she next spoke, she did everything she could to keep her tone more moderate. ‘Why did Violet say you set her up if it wasn’t true? She was adamant about it. I took her home after that awful meeting with that condescending witch of a headmistress and she swore you had planted the drugs. That’s when it all came out about James.’
‘Revenge?’ he suggested with a deep sigh. ‘For rejecting her? For informing the school? For telling her she wasn’t welcome in my home any more? For telling her to keep away from Natalia?’
‘I suppose that makes sense,’ she admitted heavily. ‘She hates you as much as she hates him.’
Andreas inhaled. As much as he felt for the screwed-up Violet and the atrocious, immoral way she had been used by that monster, he couldn’t rid himself of the anger that Carrie had thought of him in the same light, had been willing to think him corrupt and immoral too, had used her position as a journalist to get vengeance for something in which he was innocent.
‘You know, it would have saved a lot of grief if you had confronted me with Violet’s allegations when she made them.’
‘Truth or lie, you would have denied it,’ she answered flatly. ‘I wouldn’t have trusted your answer.’
‘Natalia would have confirmed it if you had asked.’
‘Natalia hero-worshipped you. She would have said anything you told her to.’
‘Are you saying you still don’t believe me?’ he asked with incredulity.
‘I don’t know what I believe.’ Suddenly, she laughed, the sound startling, cutting through the heavy sadness that had brewed between them. But it contained no humour. ‘You’ve led me on an un-merry dance for two days. I would have to be mad to trust you, of all people, and quite frankly I don’t trust anyone, especially not rich, powerful men who are used to bending people to their will and stamping on anyone who gets in their way and think the laws of the land are for lesser mortals to obey. And you’re one of the richest and most powerful of the lot.’
She turned her back on him and stepped over to the lawn, walking to the stone wall that separated his immaculate garden from the rocks and sand that led to his beach, and put her hands on it, tilting her face to look up at the stars. The moonlight cast her silhouette in an ethereal glow. Seeing her like that sent a strange ache through him.
He wanted to touch that effervescent skin. He wanted to grab those shoulders and shake the truth into her.
Her reached her in four long strides.
‘You know damn well I speak the truth,’ he said, standing behind her and placing a hand on her shoulder. ‘I saw it in your eyes. Your sister lied to you about me. You know it and I know it.’
She went rigid under his touch. When she spoke, there was a breathless quality to her words. ‘I’m a journalist. I deal with proof.’
‘You lied to infiltrate my life,’ he reminded her. ‘Where was your proof then?’
‘I infiltrated you in the hope of finding it but it doesn’t matter any more, does it? You’re safe. You rumbled me. Any dirt or skeletons in your closet will stay hidden. You’ll get on with your life and I’ll return to London and try to forget this whole mess ever happened. At least I can take comfort that I managed to get James put down for his crimes. Now take your hand off me.’
Although Carrie stood with her back to him, she was painfully aware of his stare burning into her just as his touch was doing.
He removed his hand as she asked but before she could exhale he leaned into her, his warm breath breezing through her hair as he spoke into her ear.
She squeezed her eyes shut and held her breath.
‘Ah, matia mou, you think this is the end of it and I’m going to let you leave? Just like that?’
Closing her eyes was no barrier, she realised with silent desperation. The heat emanating from him seeped into her, the warmth of his breath playing through the strands of her hair and tickling her earlobes, sending tiny shivers dancing over her skin and into her bloodstream.
How could she still react like this to him? Whether or not he spoke the truth about his acquaintance with James and his role in Violet’s expulsion—and if she believed that then she would have to believe Violet had lied to her—he’d played her like his own personal puppet.
She clenched her hands into fists and turned to look him in the eye. ‘You said I couldn’t leave here until I’d told you the truth. Well, you’ve had the truth and now I can go.’
He gave a sound that was like the antithesis of a laugh and stepped back but not far enough for
her to dare move. He was still too close. She could still breathe in his scent and feel his warmth.
His eyes bore into hers, mesmerising her with the depth of their strength.
‘I said you couldn’t leave until I’d had the truth, that is correct,’ he mused thoughtfully, his voice as hypnotising as his stare. ‘But I never said you would be leaving without me. I foiled your attempt to infiltrate my life and my business but now I have the staff of your paper, some of the most respected journalists in the world, thinking about me and wondering what kind of man I really am. There are already whispers in the media circulating about me. You have set something in motion, matia mou. Suspicions have been roused.’
Carrie’s heart was beating so hard she had to fight to speak through its heavy echo in her throat. ‘I will tell them I made a mistake.’
‘Enough of the lies,’ he whispered. ‘You still think I am corrupt. Even if I believed you would say you had made a mistake and was able to say it convincingly, it wouldn’t be enough. The doubts will linger. Every time a journalist sees my name the kernels of doubt will start again. My business will come under much closer scrutiny.’
‘If you have nothing to hide then you have nothing to worry about.’
‘If only it were that simple.’ He grimaced and finally stepped away from her and walked back to the table.
Carrie rubbed her arms, the sudden removal of his warmth producing chills on her skin.
‘All it takes is a few enquiring words in the wrong ears and the seeds of doubt are sown,’ he said, picking up the whisky bottle. ‘My clients invest their money with me because they trust me. They trust my ethics. It is a reputation I have cultivated with great care—it is the reason I refused James’s business; I didn’t trust him or his ethics. Once that trust is cast into doubt the repercussions can be disastrous, something I know from my parents’ bitter experience. I am not prepared to take any risks with my business’s health or with my reputation.’
He poured himself another drink, shaking his head with such faux regret that Carrie’s internal danger signals fired back into red alert.
Raising his glass, he said, ‘There is only one thing that will kill your colleagues’ suspicions and the suspicions of anyone else who knows you’ve been investigating me. You will have to marry me.’
She stared at him, her brain freezing, her vocal cords stunned into silence.
He had to be playing more games...
‘It is the only thing that will work,’ he said with a decisive nod. ‘You are a respected journalist. You have a reputation for fearlessness. You fight the underdog’s corner. You fight for justice. If you marry me any lingering doubt about Samaras Fund Management will be killed stone dead.’
The idea of marrying her had first occurred to Andreas on the flight over, a plan he had sincerely hoped he would never have to enact. Embezzlement, though, was too serious an accusation to let slide. He had to nullify the rumours before they gained traction.
‘It’s the most stupid thing I’ve ever heard,’ she whispered, her voice barely discernible in the breeze.
He took a drink and welcomed the spicy burn. ‘Either you marry me or I send a copy of your confession to the proprietor of your newspaper, to my lawyer and to the police. I don’t know how many laws you’ve broken but you’ve certainly broken all the ethics you’re supposed to aspire to. Marry me or you’re finished. Your career will be over, you might even go to prison.’
‘What confession?’ Her voice had strengthened. ‘I haven’t signed anything.’
With slow deliberation, he pulled his phone out of his top pocket where he’d put it since she discovered the hidden cameras.
‘No,’ she breathed.
‘Yes.’ He smiled grimly. ‘I recorded every word.’ To prove his point, he pressed play. Interference crackled loudly through the stillness of the night, then:
‘You know, don’t you?’
‘That you’re the undercover journalist Carrie Rivers?’
‘You hateful bastard!’ She stormed so quickly over to him she appeared to fly, until she was before him, her entire body trembling and her shaking hand held out to him. ‘Give me that phone.’
‘I think not.’ He stopped the recording and tucked it back in his pocket. ‘If you’re thinking of stealing it from me, it’s backed up automatically. But you’re welcome to try.’ He stood still and raised his hands in the air as if in supplication.
The look on her beautiful face could freeze lava. ‘I can’t believe you would be so underhand and deceitful.’
He lowered his hands and shrugged, unmoved. ‘You’re the journalist. Deceit is second nature to you as you have already proved. You were attempting to destroy me. I reserve the right to protect myself with whatever means I deem necessary. Under the circumstances, I would say I’m being generous. I am giving you the chance to save your career, your freedom and your privacy. And let us not forget your newspaper’s fine reputation. Oh, and your sister.’
‘Violet?’ Her eyes widened alarmingly. ‘You leave her out of this.’
‘How can I when this is all about her? She is on the transcript. Everything we discussed is recorded. I don’t imagine that everyone who hears it will be discreet—how long do you think before the tabloids get hold of it? Loose lips, matia mou...
‘All you have to do is marry me for...let us say six months. Yes, that is a decent amount of time. Give me six months of marriage and then I will destroy the recording and all back-ups.’
‘You can’t expect me to give up six months of my life for you!’
He gazed at her pityingly. ‘You should have thought of that before you began your vendetta against me. I am a good man. I am loyal to my family and my friends. I do not cheat in life or in love. But I am not a man to cross and you, matia mou, have crossed me and now you must accept the consequences.’
Her shoulders rose and then sagged as if in defeat, and she took the steps back to her seat and slumped onto it.
‘Drink?’ he asked, sliding into the seat next to hers and stretching his legs out.
She shook her head blankly before looking at him. ‘You can’t want to marry me.’
‘I have no wish to marry at all, least of all to a poisonous viper like you.’
‘Then don’t.’
‘I will do whatever is necessary to protect my business and my reputation.’ He rolled his shoulders and looked at her. ‘I’ve been waiting more than fifteen years for the freedom to do whatever the hell I want; I can wait another six months for it. And, you know, I think a marriage to you could be fun.’
‘It will be hell. I’ll make sure of it.’
He laughed. ‘I’m sure you will, matia mou, but you are going to marry me. My cousin is marrying a week on Saturday. You will come as my guest and we will announce our engagement then.’
‘What?’
Ignoring her outrage, he continued. ‘We will marry by the end of the month. The sooner we do it, the sooner we can separate and get back to our real lives.’
‘No one will believe it.’ Hysteria crept into her voice. ‘I don’t want to marry, especially not a rich man, and everyone I work with knows that.’
‘You have made your feelings about rich men very clear,’ he said drily. ‘One could accuse you of having a prejudice against us.’
‘I do.’
‘Then you will have to act to the very best of your ability to convince people that you’ve fallen in love and changed your mind, won’t you?’ He reached out a hand and fingered her hair.
She slapped it away. ‘There is no way I can pretend to have fallen in love with you; I hate everything about you.’
‘That is good because I hate everything about you too. Won’t that make everything much more fun?’
‘Fun?’ she practically shrieked. ‘You’re mad!’
‘Not mad,’ he corrected. ‘Practical. I could look at your beautiful face and allow myself to be furious with you for your vendetta against me and the potential it has to destroy ev
erything I’ve spent a lifetime working for, or I can flip it around and enjoy the fact that the woman who would have done me such harm is locked to my side. You can behave exactly as you want behind closed doors but you can and will make the world believe you have fallen madly and passionately in love with me, because if anyone doubts it the deal is off and I expose your underhand, illegal dealings to the world and your sister’s name will be dragged into it. Do it my way and we both keep our reputations and Violet gets to stay under whatever rock she is currently hiding under.’
She breathed deeply through her nose, the baleful glare she was casting him developing an air of resignation. ‘How do I know I can trust you to destroy the recording?’
‘It is a gamble you’re going to have to take but I am a man of my word and if you stick to your part of the arrangement I will stick to mine.’ He cupped her cheek and brushed his fingers over the satin skin and felt the tiniest hitch of her breath before her hand rose to slap his away again. He caught it and pulled it to his chest.
‘Don’t pretend you don’t welcome my touch, matia mou,’ he murmured. ‘We’ve finally been honest about everything else so why pretend? There is an attraction between us, a desire. You know it and I know it. We are going to live together for many months so why deny it?’
Her eyes held his for the longest time, a dozen emotions flickering through them, her lips pulled in tightly. Then they parted, the hazel eyes flashed and she tilted her head. ‘You are suffering from what I like to call Rich Man’s Delusion.’
He brought her hand to his lips and razed a kiss over her fingertips. ‘Oh, yes? And what is that?’
‘It’s a syndrome only found in the ridiculously wealthy man.’ Her voice had dropped, become breathy. Seductive. It whispered through his skin and seeped into his loins. ‘It makes him think he’s irresistible. I quite understand why a man like you would suffer from it—your wealth acts as a magnet to many women, I appreciate that, but sufferers, in their arrogance, then think every woman is attracted to him. It’s beyond your concept that a woman can look at you and not want to drop her knickers.’
A Bride at His Bidding Page 7