Sophia gave Phoebe a curious glance. ‘The boy is undeniably the image of his father. I can’t decide if you are a fool or very clever.’ She shrugged her shoulders. ‘Either way I wish you luck. You are going to need it with Jed, believe me.’ Then with a careless wave of her hand in farewell she followed Maria to the door.
In a way Phoebe almost felt sorry for Sophia. She had come closer than any other female to marrying the most eligible bachelor in Greece…At the ambassador’s ball her father had hinted as much to Phoebe and Julian while the couple was on the dance floor. So what had gone wrong? she wondered. Maybe nothing had, she thought cynically.
‘The news of my father’s heart attack was on the local radio,’ Jed explained, and reached for her arm. She shrugged him off.
‘For someone who is not speaking to you, Sophia was amazingly loquacious,’ Phoebe said sarcastically.
‘She was here to offer her family’s support to my father in any way she could—a natural response from friends.’
‘An extremely good friend, you lying toad…’
His eyes narrowed and his expression became darkly forbidding. As Maria approached he said to Ben, ‘Go with Maria, son—she will give you a drink.’
Phoebe opened her mouth to object, but Ben was happy to do as his daddy said, and walked away with the housekeeper.
‘You will never call me a liar in front of Ben again,’ Jed commanded harshly. ‘He does not need to hear your derogatory comments and jealous grumbles.’
‘Jealous of you? Don’t make me laugh.’ But he was closer to the truth than Phoebe cared to admit, and on the premise that attack was the best form of defense she struck back. ‘Unlike you, I am not in the habit of lying. Do you actually think I want to be here with you? Well, I don’t. The only reason I am here is for Ben and your father’s sake. Unlike you, I have a heart and would never, ever turn down a seriously ill old man’s request—that would be unconscionable.’
‘Good,’ he said, an arrested expression on his face. ‘You have no idea how glad I am to hear that,’ he added with a chuckle. ‘Now, if you will excuse me, I need a shower. Maria will show you around.’ And in a few lithe strides he crossed the foyer and ascended the stairs.
Phoebe, her mouth tightening into a grim line, saw nothing amusing in what she had said—quite the opposite. The past few days had been sheer hell, and things did not look like improving any time soon. She sighed, and was relieved to see Ben running towards her with Maria a few steps behind.
‘Mum, I have had cake made of honey and stuff.’
Maria laughed and wiped his mouth with a tissue. ‘The boy is so quick.’ She beamed. ‘But now I show you around the house, yes?’
Phoebe agreed, and was suitably impressed—over-awed would be nearer the mark, she thought, after wandering in and out of five reception rooms, some formal and some not, a study and a garden room. The basement contained a gym and a great swimming pool, and the upstairs was equally impressive.
Maria told her there were two bedroom suites plus a further five bedrooms, all en-suite, and on the top floor were the staff quarters. Finally she showed Phoebe into two adjoining rooms for her and Ben, and suggested that after their long journey they might like to get washed and settled and then maybe have something to eat. Dinner was usually at nine, but with the master in hospital it was any time anyone was home. She showed Phoebe how to use the in-house telephone, and told her to give her a call when they were ready to eat.
An hour later, washed and changed and sitting at the table in the surprisingly homely breakfast room, with Ben making short work of scrambled eggs and grilled tomatoes Phoebe smiled indulgently. He loved anything red—including his food. She forked the last mouthful of egg into her mouth and sat back, feeling almost relaxed—until Jed walked in.
Involuntarily Phoebe stiffened in the chair. Jed’s hair was slicked back, still damp from the shower. He’d shaved and dressed in a dark pinstriped suit, white shirt and sombre tie, but he no longer looked so tired. In fact he looked gorgeous, and she stared helplessly at him, trying to still her racing pulse but frighteningly conscious of the superb powerful male physique beneath the conservative attire. She fought to resist the effect of his potent masculinity on her vulnerable senses so much that it hurt to tear her gaze away.
She had tried to tell herself she was over him and despised him—had done for years. But since he had seduced her the other night, with a tender passion that had cut through her every defense with humiliating ease, she was forced to admit she was lying to herself. She would never be over Jed. It was as if her body was wired only to respond to his, and she doubted she would ever meet another man to take his place…
Jed strolled forward, his dark gaze skimming over Phoebe. She had changed into a dress that clung to her full firm breasts. Trying to ignore the gnawing frustration he felt, he lifted his eyes to her face. In the bright light of the room she looked pale, and he saw the flickering shadows in the wary blue eyes that met his. He sensed tension and something more as she clasped her hands in her lap and looked down.
For a moment his conscience worried him, and then he looked at Ben.
‘I thought I’d find you here, Ben.’ He pushed aside any niggling doubt at his tactics. Phoebe had deceived him five years ago, and again at the embassy ball. She didn’t deserve any sympathy—not from him. ‘I have to go out, son.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘And as I will not be back before your bedtime I’ll say goodnight now. Sleep well.’
He ruffled the dark hair, and with a nod to Phoebe he left.
Chapter Eleven
PHOEBE walked down the grand staircase. The house was quiet—eerily so. Ben was fast asleep—she had checked on him twice already. She glanced at her wristwatch. Tenthirty, but she was too on edge to go to bed. She remembered seeing a television in the family room downstairs—surely there must be some channel she could watch? Trouble was she could not remember exactly which door it was. She opened one—the dining room—and closed it, then moved to the next one and opened it. A window lamp was the only illumination and she stepped inside, her eyes adjusting to the dim light, and realised it was the study.
‘Come in and join me in a drink,’ a deep voice slurred, and she saw Jed sprawled on a large black leather sofa, a glass in his hand. ‘I could use the company.’
‘No. I’ll…Are you all right?’ she asked, concerned that he sounded drunk,
‘I don’t know. Tomorrow will tell.’
Phoebe felt dreadful. She had been so concerned with her own worries, protecting her own feelings, she had never considered how worried Jed must be, given the first forty-eight hours were crucial to his father’s recovery and half of that time had already gone. He had said Damn the man when they’d left the hospital, but she had seen the gentle way he cared for him, and had realized Jed was not the emotionless zombie she had thought—at least not where his father was concerned. Maybe he was too emotionally repressed to tell his father how he felt.
Her tender heart went out to him, and tentatively she moved towards him. ‘I did not know you were back,’ she murmured, stopping in front of him. His pin-striped jacket was draped on the arm of the sofa, he had pulled his tie free, and his shirt lay open at the neck, revealing the strong line of his throat. He was all arrogant, sexy male—and yet he looked so alone…
She sat down beside him. ‘Jed?’ He lifted his head to look at her. ‘I know how you feel, but drinking will not help you.’
‘You could not possibly know how I feel,’ he said, draining the glass of whisky in his hand. Placing the glass on the side table, he lounged back on the sofa.
‘But I do.’ She laid a consoling hand on his forearm. ‘When my parents had the car accident my mother died instantly, and I never got the chance to tell her I loved her. But my father lived for a week, and though it was heart-wrenching to see him fading it gave me the chance to tell him how much I appreciated him and loved him, and to say goodbye. With luck your father might have years left, but if not he is still
here now. I know you care for him, so instead of damning him you should tell him you love him. Trust me—it will make you feel a whole lot better.’
‘Ah, Phoebe!’ Jed drawled softly, and slid his arm around her shoulders to draw her close. She was so soft-hearted, so typically female—all for revealing emotions. He almost felt sorry for what he was about to do.
‘I’m grateful for your concern, but it is not necessary.’ Her big blue eyes were staring up at him, and he reached and ran a finger down the her cheek, letting his hand rest on her breastbone. He saw her catch her breath and fought the temptation to cover her mouth with his own and take what he knew was his to take. But he had done that on Friday and it had sent her running. He could not take the chance. Everything was in place, and time was of the essence. He could wait another day…
‘My damning comment was an expression of admiration for my father, not a condemnation,’ he continued. ‘He knows exactly how I feel about him. We made up any differences we had after he divorced his fourth wife. He explained to me why he’d married so often—it was because he loved my mother, worshipped and adored her. She was his soul mate. But when she knew she was terminally ill she made him promise he would marry again, and not become the kind of man who had no respect for woman and slept around. Probably because that was what he was like before he met her,’ he said dryly. ‘My father kept the promise, the silly old fool, and the only women he has had sex with since her death he has married.’
This was a Jed Phoebe had never heard before, confiding intimate details about his family. ‘That is not silly but quite romantic—keeping his promise. He must be a wonderful old man,’ Phoebe said. ‘Not a cynic like you.’ She dared to tease him.
‘Romantic, yes. The jury is still out on cynic,’ Jed drawled, and tightened his arm over her shoulder in case she tried to bolt. ‘But will you still think he is a wonderful old man tomorrow, when we get married?’
‘What?’ Phoebe spluttered, lifting her stunned gaze to his. He had to be joking…His dark eyes stared back, humourless and hard, and there was a determination about his handsome features that told her he was not.
‘You heard, Phoebe…My father wants to see us married—he told you so—and he told me to arrange the ceremony while you were standing there. I agreed in order to placate him. If it makes it easier for you, I never had sex with Sophia. We have been friends for years, and I considered marrying her because our fathers are great friends. It seemed sensible—a marriage of convenience much the same as we will have.’
The fact he had never slept with Sophia pleased her, though she was loath to admit it. As for the rest—his emotionless approach to a marriage to placate his father enraged her.
‘You agreed? Are you out of your mind?’
‘No. I simply took you at your word this afternoon when you said you did not lie and unlike me you had a heart and would never, ever turn down a seriously ill old man’s request because that would be unconscionable. So, Phoebe, my father has requested we marry…Are you a woman of your word?’ Jed looked at her, his smile filled with arrogant amusement. ‘Or, like most females, are you going to try and wriggle out of it?’
She felt as if she had been doused in a bucket of cold water. All her tender feelings vanished. She had said all that, and meant it, but it had never entered her head that Jed would try and use her emotional outburst to suit himself. She should have remembered Jed was a man who always got what he wanted. He had lulled her into a false sense of security and then dropped his bombshell.
She tilted her head back, the light of battle in her gaze. ‘That is the most disingenuous take on what I said. Only you would have the gall to come up with it.’
‘No worse than you turning my offer to take care of you when you were pregnant into a demand for termination, or denying me and my father precious years with Ben,’ he said grimly. ‘Now you can make some recompense. The wedding is arranged for tomorrow at the hospital. All you have to do is turn up and sign when you’re told.’
‘I’m not a fool,’ she tossed back. ‘It is impossible. You cannot get married that fast. You need documents—birth certificates.’
His hand moved from her chest to curve around her neck. ‘All taken care of. Sid gave me your passports, and when I left earlier it was to meet with the Mayor—a friend of my father’s—He granted us a special dispensation, owing to my father’s precarious state of health, for a civil marriage service to take place tomorrow by his bedside.’
‘You stole my passport.’ She had handed them to Sid when they had come through passport control at the airport and forgotten to ask for them back.
‘No—borrowed it.’ He tipped back her head and looked at her mouth, and then down her long, elegant throat to where the creamy curve of her breasts was exposed by the dipping neckline of her dress, and then back to her face. ‘We had some good times the year we were together. We could again. Would it be so hard to be married to me, Phoebe?’ he asked, bringing his mouth down on hers as she opened her mouth to answer.
He expertly took advantage of her parted lips to ease his tongue between them and sensually explore the moist interior of her mouth. She told herself it wasn’t what she wanted, but he kissed her with an ever deepening passion that proved her a liar as, boneless, she leant against him and kissed him back.
When he finally released her he was breathing hard. It gave her some comfort to know he was equally affected by the passion they shared—until he spoke.
‘You know marriage makes sense. Ben will be happy, my father will be happy, and we have this intense physical connection. What could be better?’ he prompted, a glint of satisfaction in his sensual smile.
‘What about love?’ she had to ask.
‘Love is simply another word for lust. Try to think logically, Phoebe. A man will live contentedly in a marriage if the sex is good. No sex, but just the emotion you call love, and he will not be content for long and will look for sex elsewhere.’
Phoebe stiffened, squaring her shoulders. ‘That is the most cynical statement I have ever heard.’ She looked at him with angry eyes. The condescending swine, with his try to be logical, and his callous dismissal of love. The whole focus of his life was power and money. This way he got a child to leave it to and to carry on his flaming name, with a bit of recreational sex with a convenient wife thrown in.
She wanted to smack the self-satisfied smile off his handsome face but she thought of Ben and hesitated. Then there was the chance she might be pregnant. It was not very likely, but the way her luck was running lately it was a possibility. Two illegitimate children was too many. Glancing up through the thick fringe of her lashes, she could not deny Jed was a wickedly attractive and virile man, lounging back with his hands resting lightly on his thighs. Once she had loved him with all her heart, but not any more. Well, to hell with him—she would play him at his own game.
‘Yes, I will marry you,’ she agreed.
But little did he know sex was out…Let the arrogant devil try living without and see how long he lasted before she could divorce him for adultery…
‘Thank you.’ He dropped a patronising kiss on the top of her head. ‘I knew you would see sense.’
‘You are right as usual,’ she said, and the sarcasm in her tone was lost on him.
‘I’m glad we finally agree,’ he said, and stood up. He turned to pick his jacket up, then shrugged it on. ‘I have to go to the hospital so Cora can get home.’ He glanced back down at her. ‘I will tell her and my father the good news. She was coming here in the morning with her family anyway, so she can help you find something to wear.’ He flicked a finger under her chin ‘Relax—don’t worry. Everything will be fine.’ And he left.
Phoebe stood still as a statue at Jed’s side, by his father’s hospital bed. The old man was propped up on pillows, his face flushed and his eyes glittering—whether it was a good sign or not, she didn’t know. She glanced around. The whole set-up was surreal. Heart monitors bleeping away, an official on the other side o
f the bed talking. She had not a clue what he was saying.
Mercifully, the civil ceremony was brief. Cora and her husband Theo were the witnesses—and surprisingly Dr Marcus. She watched numbly as Jed signed the necessary documents, and took the pen from his long fingers and signed where he indicated. It was all over with a complete lack of ceremony or emotion. Except for the moment when Jed took her in his arms and kissed her. Then the numbness cleared and she looked dazedly up at him, her heart pounding, until the pop of a champagne cork restored her senses.
Glasses were filled and handed around; a toast was made to the bride and groom. Cora helped her father to one sip, and then the consultant ordered them all out.
Phoebe glanced up at the man who was now her husband as he cupped her elbow in his palm and ushered her out into the corridor. He looked as cool and controlled as ever, dressed in a perfectly tailored grey suit, and looking as if he had concluded yet another successful business deal.
A reception room in the private hospital had been set aside for the wedding party, and she blinked as Jed led her in and twenty or more people gathered around. Jed introduced her, but she was too numb with nerves to take in their names because her confidence in her ability to hold to the line of the no-sex marriage she had envisaged had faded somewhat with her temper…and Jed’s kiss.
Champagne corks popped, speeches were made, toasts drunk, and Jed finally left her side to speak to some people. She was glad to be alone for a moment.
But not for long. Dr Marcus cornered her, a champagne glass in his hand, looking slightly tipsy.
‘Phoebe, dear!’ he exclaimed. ‘You look wonderful. I was so pleased to hear of your miracle child, and now this.’ He flung his arm wildly to encompass the room. ‘It has been a long time coming, but Jed has finally persuaded you to marry him and I am delighted for you both. I remember the awful night you were taken to hospital. Jed and I had had dinner together earlier. He buries his emotions deep but I could tell he was thrilled about the baby, and he told me he was going to marry you. He dropped me off first, and of course when he got home tragedy struck.’ He took a sip champagne and Phoebe went pale at his revelations. Marcus had no reason to lie.
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