Bride for a Price

by Stephanie Howard

  There was something about the expression in his eyes that made Olivia hold her breath. Suddenly she had the feeling that they might be on the brink of something crucial. Silently she put up a prayer. Was it possible, after all, that he had found a way round that ridiculous clause?

  She swallowed. ‘Namely?’

  He straightened. ‘Namely this.’ But he seemed to hesitate a moment before continuing, ‘In addition to my previous offer of shares in Jordan’s and a guaranteed job, I’m also prepared to offer your brother—after an initial period of training—nominal control of Garland’s. He’ll be free to run it more or less as though it were his own.’

  ‘Nominal control of Garland’s!’ Hope turned to cold disappointment in her breast. She had totally misread that look in his eyes. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t accept that,’ she said.

  He glanced away. ‘It’s the best I can do.’

  ‘Well, it’s not good enough. We want our company back.’

  He threw her a cold look. ‘I’ve already explained to you the reason why that can’t be done. Great-Uncle Julius’s clause is foolproof.’ He smiled. ‘He was a clever man.’

  Bitterly, Olivia sat silent as the waiter arrived with the claret. And through eyes clouded with resentment and anger she watched as Matthew Jordan tasted the wine—swirling it expertly in his glass, then raising it briefly to his nostrils before taking a sip. They were all so damned clever, these Jordans. Clever and slippery and devious. How could her mother have been so gullible as to become involved with any of them?

  As the wine was approved and the hors-d’oeuvres arrived, they were left alone again. Olivia stared without appetite at the seafood on her plate. She had been stupid to come. She might have known it would be a waste of time.

  Matthew Jordan was half-way through his starter. He paused to glance across at her. ‘Once you’ve had a chance to think properly about my offer, I’m sure you’ll realise it’s more than fair.’

  ‘Fair!’ She reached for her wine and dismissed the notion in one contemptuous syllable. The Jordan view of fairness and her own quite clearly did not coincide.

  ‘Talk it over with your brother and see what he thinks of it. Or I’ll have a chat with him, if you’d prefer.’ As she drank, ignoring him, he added in a reasonable tone, ‘Perhaps he has some ideas of his own that we might be able to include in the deal.’

  In the deal! The cool, indifferent phrase summed up his attitude to a T! Olivia felt herself go stiff, her fingers tightening around the stem of her glass so fiercely that it very nearly snapped in two. All the anger and frustration bubbling inside her was suddenly threatening to explode. She laid down the glass carefully and glared across the table at him.

  ‘In spite of what you seem to believe, Mr Jordan, this isn’t some business deal we’re talking about here. What we’re talking about is my brother’s future that’s been stolen from him! And if you think I’m just going to stand back passively and let that happen, then I’m afraid you couldn’t be more mistaken!’ She paused for a moment to gulp in breath. ‘My brother and I—not to mention my mother—have already suffered enough because of Garland’s. All our lives we took second place to the company. The only thing that made that tolerable— at least to my mother and me—was knowing that one day Richard would benefit.’

  She glanced away to hide her hurt and anger. ‘And he would have done if she hadn’t had the misfortune to meet and marry your uncle. Heaven knows, after what she’d been through with my father, I would have thought she’d have had more sense.’ She paused abruptly and bit her lip, slightly regretting the indiscreet slip. Then she hurried on, ‘But I don’t suppose anyone could have guessed she’d be even unluckier the second time. At least my father left her with something. All your uncle did was take it away!’

  As she came to the end of her verbal fusillade, Olivia was literally shaking with emotion. She removed her hands from the tabletop and laid them in her lap, out of sight. Then she took a deep breath and lowered her head, acutely conscious of his gaze on her face.

  For a long moment neither of them spoke, and the silence was deafening. Then Matthew Jordan said, very quietly, ‘I get the impression you didn’t think much of your father.’

  A twinge of guilt went through her at his words. Had she really revealed so much? Carefully, not looking at him, she answered, ‘As a businessman, I admired him greatly.’ She had learned everything she knew about the business world from him. Just as she had also learned how cruel and uncaring a human heart can be. His bad-tempered bullying and vicious tongue had terrified her as child. But, with the passing of the years, terror had evolved into pure, cold contempt. She looked across at Matthew Jordan. ‘I didn’t admire him as a man.’

  ‘But you were close to your mother?’

  ‘As close as a daughter can be.’ Hadn’t she been much more than a daughter? Her mother’s ally, comforter and friend. Resentfully she met the dark eyes. ‘That is, of course, until she married your uncle. We were never quite so close after that.’

  The dark brows knitted. ‘Why?’ he asked.

  ‘Why?’ Olivia laughed a mocking laugh. ‘Because I was against the marriage from the start. To have the good fortune to escape from the clutches of one selfish and domineering man only to run straight into the arms of another struck me as masochism bordering on madness.’ She paused for a moment to reflect. ‘But alas, my mother was the type of woman who finds it hard to live without a man.’

  Something akin to amusement flitted across the hazel eyes. Matthew contemplated her for a moment as he took a slow sip of his wine. ‘Unlike her daughter, by the looks of things.’

  Unabashed, she held his gaze. ‘Not all women are incapable of functioning without some man to tell them what to do. Some of us, I’m happy to say, can manage perfectly without a man.’

  ‘Congratulations.’ But it was not a compliment, more a taunt.

  ‘No doubt your vanity makes it hard for you to believe that your sex is not indispensable?’

  He simply smiled, a maddeningly complacent smile. ‘I have a feeling, Miss Garland, that you’re passing judgement on a subject you know nothing about. As the saying goes, one can’t miss what one has never had.’ He held her eyes. ‘Am I not right?’

  Olivia flushed, but did not look away. ‘Nor does one need to venture into the desert to know that it contains nothing but sand.’ She smiled, pleased with this wisdom. But he had the last word.

  ‘There may be oil beneath the desert. Riches beyond dreams. And magnificent sunsets over the dunes. It’s only the very shortsighted, Miss Garland, who see nothing but sand.’

  The philosophical tenor of the conversation abated slightly as they moved on to the second course. The more immediate and palpable attractions of an inch-thick entrecôte steak, garnished with mustard sauce, seemed to have largely diverted Matthew’s attention as Olivia picked half-heartedly at her suddenly tasteless baby chicken.

  However, she was aware, more than once, that the hazel eyes were watching her. And she seemed to catch, now and then, a glimpse of that serious quality of before. Then he would abruptly look away or smile one of those taunting smiles, and she would feel the irritation in her flicker again. There were no hidden depths to Matthew Jordan. He was precisely the vain, self-centred chauvinist that he appeared on the surface to be.

  ‘Would madame and monsieur care to order a dessert?’ The waiter paused as he cleared away their plates.

  Olivia began to shake her head. Pointedly she glanced at her watch. ‘Just coffee for me, thank you.’ She had already had more than enough of this farce. There was no point in prolonging it. But her companion was evidently in no hurry to be on his way. Disregarding her unsubtle hint, he ordered a fresh fruit salad and brandy to follow.

  ‘I see your asceticism extends into all areas of your life,’ he observed amusedly as she sat fiddling with her cup of black coffee while he poured a generous helping of fresh cream over a generous helping of fruit salad.

  She frowned at him disap
provingly. ‘I see it extends into none of yours.’

  He gave her a shrewd look. ‘I believe the pleasures of life are there to be enjoyed. To the full.’

  ‘No doubt.’ An image of the blonde Celine flashed not inappropriately to mind. Olivia smiled thinly at him. ‘Please don’t let me keep you from them. I’m sure you’re had enough business for one night.’

  He smiled back, understanding. ‘Don’t worry, Miss Garland, you’re keeping me from nothing that won’t wait. Besides, I’m in no hurry. I happen to be quite enjoying myself.’

  Yes, thought Olivia sourly, at my expense. What he was enjoying was the fact that she was hating every second of this ordeal. Tight-lipped, she waited while the waiter at length removed the dessert dish, then returned a moment later with fresh coffee for her and a balloon of Rémy Martin which he set in front of Matthew Jordan.

  Unhurriedly, Matthew raised the glass between long, tanned fingers, so that the curve of the balloon rested comfortably in the palm of his hand. He swirled the amber liquid round, taking time to warm it before he drank, his eyes fixed on the stiff, upright figure opposite, a light smile hovering around his lips. ‘So, Miss Garland,’ he said at last, ‘what do you think of my latest offer?’

  ‘I find it unacceptable. Just like the others.’

  He drank briefly, his eyes unwavering. ‘You really want your company back?’

  Did he really need to ask? ‘I’ll settle for nothing less.’

  He drank again, allowing the fiery cognac to roll against his palate for a moment before swallowing. Then he leaned back slightly in his seat and regarded her through lowered lids. ‘Perhaps, after all, a way can be found.’

  Olivia’s heart leapt to her throat. Sudden optimism surged inside her. She leaned towards him, her blue eyes bright. Hadn’t she known he had something up his sleeve? ‘Tell me how?’ she demanded now.

  He took another slow mouthful of his drink and regarded her over the top of the glass. ‘As I already explained to you, my uncle Julius’s clause is watertight. Only Jordan family members may hold any part of the company. And the definition of what constitutes family is very carefully defined…’

  Olivia nodded impatiently. ‘I know.’ He seemed to be circling, avoiding the point, deliberately delaying the moment of truth.

  ‘It covers brothers, sisters, nephews, cousins…’ He paused.

  She waited.

  ‘And wives.’

  ‘Wives?’ She stared back at him in total incomprehension. ‘Wives?’ she repeated once again.

  Matthew Jordan continued to watch her over the top of his glass. The expression in the deep hazel eyes was oddly flat, unreadable. ‘If you were my wife,’ he clarified, ‘you would qualify under the clause.’

  For a moment Olivia could only stare at him, totally, utterly taken aback. A mixture of horror and incredulity went through her at the very thought. ‘But I’m not,’ she said at last.

  ‘You could be.’

  She gave a small, embarrassed laugh, wondering if the wine had gone to her head. Had he actually said what she’d thought—or was her imagination playing tricks? She swallowed drily. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  He laid down his glass, leaned towards her and elaborated slowly and extremely soberly—though it still felt as though the world had gone crazy as she listened to him say, ‘My dear Miss Garland, what it means is that I’m prepared to give you your company back. On one condition.’ He paused. ‘On condition that you agree to marry me.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  Olivia was grateful that they were seated in a discreet corner of the restaurant. At least no one could see the look of total imbecility that had settled on her face. She gaped at Matthew Jordan, wondering if this was some kind of joke. ‘Are you out of your mind?’ she demanded.

  He smiled a composed smile. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said.

  ‘You’re seriously proposing that I marry you in order to get Garland’s back?’

  He nodded. ‘There’s no other way.’ Then he leaned back and added reasonably, ‘Regard it simply as a business move. You are a businesswoman, after all, as you keep reminding me. We need only remain married long enough to make the thing look respectable—say, six months or so. I sign over the company to you, then we divorce and you and your brother have got what you want.’

  So it was not a forever-after proposal of marriage. At least that made it slightly less bizarre. A business move, he had said. And, as long as he kept his side of the bargain, she could see that there was much to be gained.

  As though reading her mind, he went on to inform her, ‘I’m sure the terms of the contract could be drawn up privately between our lawyers beforehand to the satisfaction of both of us. Just in case you’re worried that I might try to back out of the deal.’

  ‘The thought had occurred to me.’ Though there was something more sinister on her mind. A question that, should she ever in her wildest nightmares seriously consider such a deal, would definitely need answering. ‘Why?’ she put to him now. ‘You’re as much a businessman as I’m a businesswoman. What would you be getting out of such a deal?’

  He smiled one of those irritating, superior smiles. ‘Don’t you think that being married to such a woman as yourself, even for so brief a period, would be reward enough for any man?’

  Olivia looked back at him, poker-faced, unamused by his predictable gibe. ‘What I think,’ she shot back at him caustically, ‘is that a hard-nosed businessman like yourself would never contemplate a contract of any kind—let alone one as dubious as this—unless he had something very substantial to gain from it for himself.’

  He shrugged. ‘OK, I have my reasons. But I prefer to keep them to myself.’

  ‘Why?’ Now she was suspicious. ‘Do you have something to hide?’

  A look of total inscrutability settled on the strong-boned face. ‘I think all that need concern you, Miss Garland, is your own position in this issue—and the benefits that you and your brother will derive.’

  He was talking as though she had already agreed. Without hesitation, she put him right. ‘Oh, don’t worry, Mr Jordan. My interest is purely academic. I wouldn’t seriously entertain your proposal for a minute.’

  Matthew shrugged again with apparent indifference. ‘It’s the only way you’ll get Garland’s back.’

  Quite possibly. But there were limits to the lengths to which even she was prepared to go. ‘It’s a preposterous suggestion,’ she insisted. Just the thought of it made her shudder.

  ‘Preposterous or no, it’s your only chance.’ An amused smile flitted across his face. ‘I certainly have no intention of making a similar proposal to your brother.’

  Very funny. Trust him to make a joke out of it. As she struggled to think up some crushing rejoinder, he turned to catch the waiter’s eye and signalled for the bill. ‘If you want Garland’s back as badly as you say, you would be wise to think seriously about my offer.’

  Then, as the waiter came and laid the bill, enclosed in a discreet folder, in front of him, he reached for his pocket-book and smiled a knowing smile. ‘For those things one wants badly in life, there’s always a price to be paid. In this case, it’s up to you to decide whether or not you’re prepared to pay it.’

  He slipped a gold American Express card from the wallet and laid it, with a brief glance at the bill, on the folder. ‘I’ll give you forty-eight hours, Miss Garland. If I don’t hear from you by then, I shall assume that my proposal is unacceptable and that will be the end of that.

  ‘Think well,’ he counselled, regarding her coolly. ‘You won’t get a second chance.’

  For the next two days Olivia could think of nothing else.

  The man must be crazy, she kept telling herself. Who else but a madman would propose such a thing? And, since she was in full possession of her own mental faculties, the only decent and sensible thing to do was just to forget the whole idea.

  But that wasn’t an easy option either. How could she reject out of hand the only real
hope that she had? Matthew Jordan hadn’t been lying when he’d told her there was no other way. Her solicitor’s investigations into the details of Jordan’s charter had revealed that what he had told her about Great-Uncle Julius’s devious little clause had been absolutely right. Though Jordan Electronics in its entirety could be taken over by outside interests, individual bits of it could not.

  She was totally blocked, it seemed.

  The only person Olivia had mentioned Matthew Jordan’s proposal to was Lewis. His habitually composed features had creased into an expression of disbelief and consternation that more or less exactly mirrored her own shell-shocked emotions.

  ‘Was he serious?’ he had demanded with an incredulous frown. ‘Why would he want to do such a thing?’ Adding hastily, diplomatically, ‘I don’t wish to be offensive. You are, after all, a highly attractive and eligible young woman.’ He carefully smoothed his iron-grey hair. ‘But it does all seem just a little bit sudden.’

  Olivia had smiled. ‘My feelings exactly. I just wish I knew what was behind this move.’ Perhaps, if she could figure out his motives, she would be in a better position to decide.

  It was almost as though Lewis had read her mind. The wily accountant smiled. ‘You’ve got until tomorrow evening, you say? Relax, Miss Garland. Just leave it to me.’

  It was on the afternoon of the following day, just hours before Jordan’s deadline expired, and Olivia was down at The Gallery, sorting out a batch of newly arrived paintings. Suddenly the phone rang. Jeffrey, her assistant, answered it.

  ‘It’s Mr Ottley for you,’ he told her. ‘He says something important’s come up.’

  Anxiously Olivia grabbed the phone. ‘Lewis, what’s happening?’ she wanted to know.

  ‘Miss Garland, I think you should come over straight away. I’ve just made a rather interesting discovery that explains Matthew Jordan’s proposal to you.’

  Olivia felt her heart give a lurch. ‘I’ll be over in ten minutes,’ she promised. Then, as she hung up, she turned to Jeffrey with an apologetic frown. ‘Lewis wants to see me urgently. Can you cope with this on your own?’