The Wedding Bargain

by Yvonne Lindsay

  Understanding filled her father’s eyes as he digested the message hidden in her words. Understanding that was swiftly followed by remorse. She was not about to put it in so many words, but the three of them knew that without her income they’d all be destitute.

  “I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

  Shanal stood up and took her cup of tea through to her childhood bedroom. There, surrounded by so many reminders of her past, she tried to digest the truth about her feelings for Raif. Theoretically, it should be so simple. She could just tell Burton the truth, that she planned to keep her baby and that she wouldn’t be marrying him. How hard could that be?

  But then the look on her father’s face came back to haunt her. He’d been through hell since the medical-negligence compensation claim. He hadn’t fought it, instead taking full responsibility for the damage he’d done—for the death he’d caused by trying to soldier through his illness without telling his peers. Her dad’s shame and sorrow were a heavy burden for them both. He was a man used to being larger than life and a powerful force in the health field, along with supporting his family. The physical and mental toll the whole incident had taken was huge, accelerating the symptoms of his illness.

  She looked up as she heard his wheelchair at her door.

  “Will...you be...okay?” he asked, forming his words carefully.

  Shanal looked at her father, his eyes still bright with intelligence and shining with the love he bore for her.

  “Yes, Dad, I’ll be okay.” Somehow. “We’ll all be okay, I promise.”

  Her father looked up at her. He laughed, a dry crackling sound that held little warmth. “Your mother reckons...she’s going...to get a job.”

  Shanal shook her head. “No, she can’t. You need her here at home.”

  When Shanal had learned about her father’s illness, they’d realized that there would come a point when he’d need full-time nursing care. Her mother had been adamant that if anyone was to care for her husband, it would be her for as long as she could manage. Shanal had used some of her own savings to make alterations to the house so her father could remain at home and maneuver safely in his wheelchair.

  Shanal’s mum appeared in the doorway, resting her hands on her husband’s shoulders and giving them a squeeze. Her features were drawn into a tight mask and her jaw was set with determination.

  “Either way, pyaari beti, you can’t carry our responsibilities on your own, not with a baby now to consider, as well. We don’t want you to put yourself through hardship for us.”

  “We...love you,” her father added. “You must...do...what’s right for...you.”

  Shanal watched as her parents left her room, marveling at the way their love for one another was still as rock solid as it had ever been. She wanted that for herself now more than ever—that kind of love that endured through good times and bad, through sickness and in health. She wouldn’t have that with Burton. She knew that. Could she honestly let herself live without it?

  Her hand rested against her lower belly. She had responsibilities here—to her unborn babe and to her parents. She had to go ahead with her marriage to Burton. She simply had no other choice. And when he discovered that she hadn’t gone through with the termination, well, she’d just have to cross that bridge when she reached it.

  Twelve

  Raif paced the tasting room at The Masters vineyard, oblivious to the expression of amusement on his cousin Ethan’s face.

  “Of course I love her. Do you think for a second that I’d be this wound up if I didn’t?” Raif raged.

  “Well, why don’t you do something about it,” Ethan drawled, as he leaned back in his chair and twirled the stem of a glass of Shiraz between his fingers.

  “Like what? She refuses to see me, she won’t answer my calls, I’m banned from Burton International—”

  “Seriously?” Ethan choked on a laugh. “Banned from her workplace?”

  Raif clenched his teeth together as he struggled to get his frustration under control. “It’s no laughing matter.”

  Ethan sobered, all humor gone as he sat up straighter in his chair. “Then you have to find a way. If she’s that important to you, then you have to go get her. You spirited her away once, and I have to say I commend you for that. You can do it again, surely. I still can’t believe it, though. You and Shanal.”

  “Why is that so strange?”

  “You’ve always been at one another. If she said black, you’d say white. If you said organic, she’d just about write a treatise on why the use of chemicals was vital for strong healthy growth.”

  Raif had to admit it, on the surface it had looked as if they couldn’t bear one another. But when they’d been alone together on the boat, the animosity and bickering had vanished. They’d been happy together—the happiest he’d ever been. And he knew, to his soul, that she felt something for him. Love? Well, he could only hope. He just knew that she was marrying Burton for all the wrong reasons, whatever they were. She’d had reasons for running from the wedding last time, too. Reasons that, while she hadn’t shared them with him, had made her desperate to leave the cathedral behind. Reasons that had given her nightmares that first night on the boat. Whatever she felt for Burton, it certainly wasn’t love. If anything, it looked more like fear.

  “What if you get her over here for lunch with you and Isobel, and then leave us to it. Would you do that for me?” Raif asked, latching on to the suggestion like a drowning man.

  “Are you asking if I’m prepared to damage a friendship of fifteen years by tricking her into seeing you?”

  Raif pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes for a minute. It was asking too much of his cousin to do this. It was unfair. But then again, this whole situation was unfair. And beneath it all he still had the feeling that something about the whole thing was twisted. As if Burton was manipulating them all. There was only one answer to Ethan’s question. Raif opened his eyes, let his hand drop back to his side.

  “Yes,” he said.

  His cousin nodded in acknowledgment and sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it. But don’t blame me if it all blows up in your face.”

  “I won’t,” Raif assured him, even though deep down he had no such confidence.

  Without saying another word, Ethan reached for his mobile phone and keyed in Shanal’s number. After some idle chatter he got to the point, inviting her to lunch on the coming Sunday—one day shy of a week before her new wedding date.

  “It’s done,” Ethan said. “She’ll be here at midday. I suggest you come about an hour after that.”

  “I’ll be here,” Raif promised.

  * * *

  Sunday came, delivering one of those perfect early spring days filled with sunshine and a top temperature in the low sixties. Even so, Raif felt chilled as he got out of his car and walked toward the main house, where Ethan and Isobel were entertaining Shanal. She wouldn’t be pleased, he knew that. No doubt she thought she’d effectively seen the last of him that day he’d returned her wedding dress, but if that was the case she’d failed to factor in the Masters family’s resilience and determination to reach their goals.

  He walked around to the back veranda of the house, which accommodated most of his family in its widespread wings to the sheltered spot where Ethan had texted him earlier to find them. Raif could hear the delicate sound of Shanal’s laughter as he drew nearer. Laughter that cut short as she saw him step up onto the covered wooden deck.

  “Ethan?” she asked, turning to his cousin.

  “He needed to see you, Shanal. I’m sorry.”

  Isobel looked from one to the other and back again. “Is there something I’m missing here?”

  “No, nothing,” Shanal insisted, but Ethan spoke over her.

  “I’ll tell you, inside,” he said to his wife, rising from his chair and
offering her his hand.

  With another sharp look at Raif and then Shanal, Isobel took her husband’s hand. Raif waited until they were both inside and the door had closed behind them.

  “I don’t know what you hope to achieve by this, Raif. I told you, I can’t see you anymore. We have nothing to say to each other.”

  “Can’t see me? Or don’t want to see me? They’re two very different things, don’t you think?” he said, lowering himself to sit beside her at the beautifully laid table. “I don’t understand why you have to marry Burton.”

  “It’s none of your business, Raif. Please, just leave me alone.”

  “Oh, Shanal, that’s where you’re so very wrong. It’s entirely my business.”

  Her eyes flicked up to meet his, a tormented expression clearly evident. Raif’s heart squeezed painfully that he had to be the one putting her through this.

  “If you’re going to marry anyone, it should be me. I love you, Shanal, and I believe, if you’re honest with yourself, you love me, too.”

  She shook her head sadly. “No, don’t do this to me, Raif. It’s not fair.”

  “Not fair? Isn’t denying yourself the truth unfair, too? I think it is. Especially when that truth is what we mean to one another.”

  Shanal drew herself upright in her chair. “You’re mistaken. We had a fling. A very brief fling,” she reiterated. “That’s all.”

  Raif held back a sigh. She was going to fight him on this to the bitter end, wasn’t she? Well, if she thought he’d tuck his tail and run she had another think coming. He’d waited this long, he wasn’t going to wait any longer. He loved and respected her too much for that. “We both know that’s a lie. You’re not that kind of woman and it was way more than a fling.”

  She smiled. “You think not? Well, I have news for you. You don’t know me as well as you think you do. I’m tired of playing games and of being some kind of toy to be fought over between you and Burton. I know you don’t like him. How do I know you’re not saying you love me just to get back at him again? You two were always competitive, even back in your school days, from what I’ve been told. Clearly that hasn’t changed.”

  “It’s more than that. Way more. He’s not the right man for you.”

  “Like he wasn’t for Laurel, either? And yet she chose him.”

  Raif felt the barb strike home, but it only served to make him even more determined. “And look what happened to her, Shanal.”

  “It was an accident.”

  “It was carelessness. Burton’s deliberate carelessness, I’m sure. It couldn’t have been anything else.”

  “The inquest found otherwise. He was exonerated,” she persisted.

  “He lied. That’s the way he operates, can’t you see that? He’ll say whatever he needs to, and pay whoever he needs to, to get what he wants.”

  Didn’t she want to understand? Raif fought the urge to strangle something, or someone—preferably Rogers—and dragged his focus back to the woman in front of him. Everything he said was the truth, but still she fought back.

  Shanal huffed a derisive snort. “Of course you’d say something like that. But then, you’re not all that different, are you?”

  “Burton is all about the chase, Shanal. He likes the hunt, the capture. The win. Do you really think he loves you? He doesn’t. He loves the idea of you.”

  Shanal pushed her chair away from the table. “I think I’ve heard enough. Either you go or I do.”

  Raif put out a hand to stop her from getting up. “Shanal, please reconsider. It’s not too late.”

  She looked down at his hand on her arm, then raised her eyes to his again. “I’ve made my decision, Raif. You have to live with that.”

  Knowing that anything else he said now would be a waste of time, Raif loosened his hold on her. “Don’t get up. I’ll go. But I’m not giving up on you, Shanal. Not for a second. Whether you believe me or not, I love you. What I want more than anything is for you to be happy—and since I know you’d never find happiness with Burton, I’m not going to stop trying to put an end to this wedding.”

  “Raif, you’re wasting your time.”

  “That’s for me to decide,” he said, and he turned to go.

  He couldn’t quite remember when he’d made the decision to drive into the city, but he knew exactly why when he pulled the Maserati up outside Burton’s apartment block.

  “We need to talk,” he said into the intercom in the foyer, after buzzing Burton’s apartment.

  “By all means,” replied the silky smooth voice of the man he’d grown to detest more than any other.

  Inside Burton’s apartment, Raif found himself holding on to his rage by a thread.

  “So, to what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?” Burton said, after leading him into a sitting room that was more a testament to his ability to collect beautiful things than it was a place to relax.

  “Let her go.”

  “I beg your pardon. I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.”

  Raif wanted nothing more than to wipe the smug look off Burton’s face. “You know full well that I mean Shanal. Let her go.”

  “She comes to me of her own free will,” Burton replied. “If she wanted to stay with you, surely she wouldn’t have terminated your baby just this week.”

  Bile rose, hot and sharp, in Raif’s throat. “My baby?”

  “Yes,” Burton drawled. “I took her to the clinic last Wednesday myself. Such an unfortunate side effect of your little dalliance together, but easily dispensed with. It’s a good thing I’m a forgiving man. Now that little mess is tidied up, Shanal and I can move forward. We’ll make quite the dynamic duo, don’t you think?”

  Little mess? It took every ounce of Raif’s considerable control not to take Burton by the throat and choke him for his lies. But was it a lie? Only one person could tell him that and she wasn’t willing to talk to him again. She’d told him there was nothing left to say. Did that mean she really had gone through with it?

  Why hadn’t she told him about the baby? She had to know he’d stand by her, didn’t she? Goodness only knew Raif had tried to make that clear to her often enough. Rage suffused him. At Burton for being the supercilious grasping spawn he was, at Shanal for refusing to see the real person behind the smiling fiancé she planned to pledge her life to, and for the unborn child he hadn’t even had the chance to know about and would now never have the chance to meet.

  He could barely speak. Burton Rogers had now effectively destroyed the lives of two people, Laurel and now Raif’s baby, who should have been able to count on him for anything. Two people he’d loved, or would have loved if given half a chance. He spun on his heel and stalked to the door of the apartment.

  “What? Not stopping for a drink, old friend?” Burton taunted from behind him.

  But he wasn’t listening anymore. He had let this happen and he had to admit the worst of his rage was for himself. For his inability to prevent Burton from destroying yet another life. Well, he’d failed, twice now. There was no way he’d fail again. Whatever it took, whatever he had to do, Shanal would not marry Burton Rogers next Saturday.

  Raif forced himself to drive slowly back to his house. He had to get control of this fury that held him tight in its grip. He had to deconstruct what Burton had told him, to take it apart piece by piece and examine it carefully. Now, more than ever, it was vital he not rush at things like a bull at a gate. He’d done that with Shanal and met only resistance. There had to be more beneath all this.

  As he sat in an easy chair staring out at the vineyard, his vineyard, he mulled over everything that had happened in the past few weeks. Trying to peer beneath the layers to find the truth at the core. Through it all, he could only see the woman Shanal was. Focused, dedicated and loyal to a fault.

  Was that where the
problem lay? Her loyalty? To Burton, maybe? He was her boss. Even as the idea bloomed in his mind he cast it aside. No, he had seen no indication of loyalty in Shanal’s behavior when Burton had come to take her away. Loyalty to her family, maybe? Raif had been shocked to see her father accompany her down the aisle in a wheelchair. Someone had whispered something about his illness, motor neuron disease, in hushed tones as they’d gone past. Raif had had no idea Curtis Peat was in such bad shape.

  Was it desperation to be married before her father died? Was that what drove her? Surely she knew Raif would offer marriage himself if they had a baby on the way. Ideas tumbled around in his head until he was almost dizzy with them. Perhaps it was her parents who had loyalty to Burton, who had chosen him as Shanal’s suitor? But while Mrs. Peat was traditional in some ways, Raif couldn’t believe she’d push her daughter into an arranged marriage. Not when it was well known that the Peats themselves had been a love match.

  Yet Raif couldn’t help thinking that her parents were the key to understanding the situation in some way. Shanal was close to her parents, there was no question of that. But what would be so important to their happiness that she’d sacrifice her own to ensure it? It couldn’t be money. The Peats were an affluent family. Before her father’s early retirement he’d had a very successful private practice as a cardiovascular surgeon.

  So what the hell was it?

  It was growing dark when he finally moved and got himself something to eat from the kitchen. But food did little to fill the aching sense of loss at the idea of a child gone before he could know about it. He scraped off his plate into the garbage, most of his meal uneaten, and shoved the plate in the dishwasher before heading to bed.

  There, he lay in the dark of a starless night, lost in the many variables and possibilities that presented themselves. Vignettes from his and Shanal’s time on the river rose in his thoughts again and again, to torment him. Her trust in him from the start, her asking him to stay. The night they’d spent together locked in passion so deep, so everlasting—at least he’d thought so at the time—that it had left an indelible imprint on his heart.