His Bid for a Bride

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘He did?’ she said slowly; her father had never mentioned these financial ventures to her…

  ‘He did.’ Falkner nodded firmly.

  She shrugged. ‘Even if that’s true…’ and she wasn’t a hundred-per-cent certain that she believed it was, suspected this might be another attempt at some sort of misguided charity on Falkner’s part—although she hadn’t quite worked out what it could be yet ‘…how can you be sure he didn’t reinvest that money into O’Hara Whiskey too?’

  ‘I’m sure,’ Falkner answered in measured tones.

  Skye gave him a searching look. He looked calm enough, his gaze steadily meeting hers, and yet there was a certain wariness in that gaze too, leading her to the conclusion that there was still something Falkner wasn’t telling her…

  ‘Falkner, you said just now that the lawyer wants to see “us”,’ she realized huskily.

  He grimaced. ‘So I did.’

  ‘Well?’ she prompted as he added nothing further.

  ‘Skye, how old are you?’

  ‘How—? What on earth does that have to do with anything?’ she demanded exasperatedly.

  ‘Quite a lot, actually.’ He grimaced.

  There definitely was something else he hadn’t told her yet, something that he knew, from the grim expression on his face, that she wasn’t going to like.

  ‘You may as well tell me, Falkner,’ she sighed.

  ‘Your birthday is in February, isn’t it?’

  She frowned. ‘How did you know that?’

  He shrugged. ‘Your father must have mentioned it. February, right?’

  ‘Right,’ she confirmed warily.

  ‘That’s what I thought.’ Falkner nodded slowly. ‘Skye, the money your father made through his investments with me he put into a trust for you in his will until you reach the age of twenty-five.’

  She blinked. ‘He did?’

  Falkner gave the ghost of a smile. ‘He did. In seven months time you are going to inherit that money.’ He named a sum of money that, after the last six months of hardship for both Skye and her father, left Skye speechless.

  Her father had done all that, made all that money, and put it in trust for her, without so much as telling her a thing about it? It seemed incredible!

  It also seemed something else…

  ‘He knew, didn’t he?’ Skye said slowly. ‘That O’Hara Whiskey, no matter how he tried to save it, would one day go down,’ she explained at Falkner’s questioning look. ‘He knew, and he made provision for me.’

  ‘With hindsight, I can say yes, I think that’s exactly what he did.’ Falkner nodded abruptly. ‘At the time he made the will, I had no idea, of course. But knowing what I do now about your uncle Seamus’s involvement in the downfall of O’Hara Whiskey, I’m sure that Connor set up a trust for you, made from money completely separate from the company, so that your life wouldn’t be ruined by it too.’

  Skye felt the sting of tears in her eyes. Her father, despite his death, was still taking care of her. But she would have given up all of it, the money, that financial security, just to have him back!

  ‘Skye!’ Falkner groaned as the tears fell gently down her cheeks, reaching across the table to tightly grasp one of her hands in his. ‘It will be all right, Skye!’ he assured her fiercely.

  No, it wouldn’t, it wouldn’t ever be all right again. No matter what provision her father had made for her, it wouldn’t bring him back. And crying all over Falkner wasn’t going to make it any easier, either!

  She moved her hand from his grasp to brush the tears impatiently from her cheeks, stiffening her spine determinedly before meeting his gaze across the table. ‘What’s the catch, Falkner?’ she prompted frowningly.

  He raised dark brows. ‘Catch?’

  Her mouth twisted into a humourless smile. ‘What is your involvement in this?’ she prompted dryly. ‘Apart from the fact that my father entrusted you with the information about the trust in the first place,’ she added haltingly.

  She still found that amazing. But, then, she had been constantly surprised these last few weeks at the depth of her father’s friendship with this man…

  Falkner drew in a sharp breath. ‘As I told you, the money has been put in trust until you reach the age of twenty-five.’

  Which was only seven months away; she already had a job, was perfectly capable of supporting herself for as long as she had to. Besides, now that she knew about the money, she intended using some of it to help her uncle Seamus.

  ‘Skye, the trust has two trustees,’ Falkner bit out forcefully as she continued to look at him wordlessly. ‘For obvious legal reasons, your father’s lawyer is one of those trustees—’

  ‘And you’re the other one!’ she suddenly realized, staring incredulously across the table at Falkner.

  She was right, she knew she was right, could see by the sudden bleakness of Falkner’s expression as he steadily met her accusing gaze that was exactly what he was trying—not very successfully so far!—to tell her.

  Falkner was her trustee, almost the equivalent of a guardian, was her financial guardian! Well…one of them. Falkner—of all people her father could have chosen!

  But why had her father chosen Falkner, a man Skye hadn’t even seen for six years, let alone anything else?

  Because her father had trusted him…

  One thing she did know, had always known, was that her father’s love for her was absolute, that her happiness was his main concern in life. And he would never have entrusted her happiness to a man he didn’t also trust absolutely.

  And yet he had never told her of the trust fund he had set up for her in his will, let alone that he had made Falkner Harrington one of its trustees…

  Perhaps because her father had hoped it would never be necessary for her to need to know? After all, her father had still been a young man, had been fighting to the end to maintain some sort of business reputation, could have had no idea that he would die so suddenly shortly before her twenty-fifth birthday. He also knew Skye well enough to know she would hate even the thought that he had made such a provision for her, and the implications behind it.

  Although that didn’t explain why Falkner hadn’t told her about this earlier…

  ‘You are, aren’t you?’ she prompted accusingly.

  He gave a heavy sigh. ‘I am.’ He nodded.

  ‘Great! Just great!’ Skye muttered frustratedly.

  ‘Just when you thought it was safe to go back in the water,’ Falkner muttered.

  She frowned. ‘I beg your pardon?’

  ‘Never mind.’ He gave a dismissive shake of his head. ‘I realize you aren’t exactly thrilled at the prospect of this trusteeship, Skye, but—’

  ‘You can’t possibly know how unthrilled I am, Falkner,’ she cut in forcefully.

  The idea of never seeing Falkner again was a painful one for her, but the idea of being tied to him by his financial control—of his being tied to her for the same reason!—was also unacceptable to her.

  His mouth twisted humourlessly. ‘I think I can hazard a guess,’ he murmured self-derisively. ‘Look, Skye, I didn’t have to tell you any of this tonight, could have just—’

  ‘Oh, yes, you did,’ she scorned. ‘Because you knew exactly how I would have reacted if I just heard it cold from the lawyer,’ she added accusingly as he would have spoken.

  He gave a heavy sigh. ‘Why not look on the bright side, Skye? It’s only for another seven months—and then you can tell me all over again exactly what I can do with my friendship!’

  She didn’t want to tell him what he could do with his friendship—it was the fact that he only had friendship to offer that made it all so unbearable. If he felt only a little of the deep love for her that she had for him, then it would all be so different!

  ‘I can’t wait,’ she assured him with feeling. ‘I don’t think I can eat any of this.’ She pushed her plate away uninterestedly.

  Falkner’s expression darkened. ‘Not eating isn’t going to solv
e anything!’

  She glared across at him. ‘Would you rather I was ill in the restaurant?’

  ‘I would rather you ate your meal,’ he came back hardly.

  ‘Like a good little girl!’ Skye shot back at him sharply.

  Falkner grimaced, shaking his head. ‘I somehow doubt you were ever that. In fact, I distinctly remember you as being extremely precocious at almost eighteen!’

  Skye felt the colour warm her cheeks at this reminder of what had happened between them six years ago. ‘I was hardly a “little girl” at eighteen!’ she snapped back.

  ‘No?’ He raised mocking brows.

  ‘No!’ she bit out challengingly. ‘So when am I supposed to go and see this lawyer?’ She changed the subject abruptly, having no intention of eating any more of the pâté.

  ‘When are we supposed to go and see the lawyer,’ Falkner corrected lightly.

  ‘I don’t see why you need to be there.’ Skye shook her head. ‘After all, you already know what’s in my fathers will,’ she added accusingly.

  He gave an abrupt inclination of his head. ‘Which is precisely why I have to be there.’

  ‘I can’t believe this,’ Skye muttered frustratedly. ‘What on earth was my father thinking of?’ she groaned.

  ‘You,’ Falkner answered unhesitantly.

  Skye’s anger deflated like the air out of a balloon, her shoulders slumping as she sat back weakly in her chair.

  Whatever she might think about this situation, however intolerable it was to her to have Falkner as her financial trustee for the next seven months, she knew that her father would only ever have acted in a way he felt was best for her. The fact that she didn’t feel the same way about his choice wasn’t her father’s fault.

  She had never confided in her father how she felt about Falkner, and it was because she hadn’t confided in him that her father couldn’t possibly have realized how much she would hate being dependent on Falkner in this way.

  ‘Yes,’ she accepted with a shaky sigh. ‘When would you like to go and see the lawyer?’

  ‘I suggested tomorrow afternoon, at four o’clock, might be a good time?’ Falkner looked at her questioningly.

  The word ‘suggest’ and Falkner didn’t quite go together, but she understood exactly what he meant! ‘In other words, you’ve made an appointment for us to see the lawyer at four o’clock tomorrow afternoon?’ she said dryly.

  He nodded. ‘Subject to your approval, of course.’

  ‘Oh, of course,’ Skye derided, at the same time mulling the idea over in her mind.

  If her work schedule tomorrow went anything like today, then she should have a couple of hours free in the afternoon before the second feeding time in the evening. She certainly wasn’t going to ask for time off on only her second day at work!

  ‘Yes, I think four o’clock tomorrow will be okay,’ she said slowly. ‘If it isn’t I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Skye, I need to know—’

  ‘You don’t have the right to ask, Falkner,’ she warned softly, easily guessing that he was again going to ask where she was now staying.

  His mouth tightened grimly. ‘I disagree—’

  ‘Then we’ll just have to disagree, won’t we?’ Skye cut in determinedly. ‘You may be one of my financial trustees, Falkner, but that doesn’t give you any rights over the rest of my life.’

  He drew in a sharp breath. ‘You aren’t making this easy for me, Skye.’

  She gave a humourless laugh. ‘I don’t think this is going to be easy for either of us, Falkner.’ She shook her head. ‘But no doubt we’ll cope.’

  ‘No doubt we’ll have to,’ he acknowledged bleakly. ‘You know, I don’t think Connor ever intended for it to be this way,’ he added gently.

  ‘Probably not,’ she conceded heavily, knowing that her father could have no idea how much she would hate this dependency on Falkner, of all people.

  Falkner reached out and lightly clasped her hand as it rested on the table-top. ‘Can’t we try to be friends, Skye?’ he prompted huskily.

  How could the two of them ever be friends, when it was so much more than that she wanted from him?

  She moved her hand from his grasp. ‘We weren’t friends before, Falkner, so why should we become so now?’ she dismissed hardly.

  ‘For your father’s sake?’ he prompted huskily.

  She swallowed hard, her eyes pained as she looked across the table at him. ‘That was unfair, Falkner.’ She shook her head.

  ‘Maybe,’ he conceded heavily. ‘But think about it, hmm?’

  Skye had plenty of time to think during the sleepless night that followed the evening out with Falkner.

  Part of her was elated at the thought of not being completely cut off from seeing Falkner, but another part of her was distraught at the reason behind it.

  There was something else troubling her too, something about the last few days that bothered her and yet eluded her at the same time, something that Falkner had said or done that didn’t seem to quite add up. But with all the other thoughts that bombarded her, she just couldn’t think what it was…

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘I KNEW you were reckless, but I didn’t realize you were insane, too!’

  Skye had dropped the bucket of water she was carrying at the first sound of Falkner’s voice directly behind her, turning to look at him accusingly even as the water soaked into her jeans and trainers. ‘Do you have to keep creeping up on me in this way?’ she snapped impatiently, two bright spots of angry colour in her cheek as she glared at him. ‘The name Houdini springs to mind!’

  Falkner returned that gaze unrepentantly, his own impatience obvious from his grim expression. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ he rasped, moving further into the stable where Skye was working.

  Skye eyed him scathingly. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’ She bent to pick up the now-empty bucket. ‘I’ll have to fill this up again now,’ she muttered irritably, all the time aware that her irritation was partly due to her complete awareness of Falkner; just being close to him like this made her tremble.

  Falkner reached out a slender hand and easily took the bucket from her grasp. ‘I don’t think so,’ he told her harshly.

  Her brows rose at his autocratic tone. ‘Oh, you don’t?’ she echoed in a dangerously soft voice.

  Quite what Falkner was doing here at the stables where she was working, she had no idea—although she could take a pretty good guess! Somehow Falkner had learnt where she was staying, after all—probably from that grapevine he had mentioned!—and he obviously wasn’t pleased at the knowledge. In fact, he hadn’t even been able to wait another four hours, until they were due to meet anyway, in order to tell her how displeased he was!

  ‘No, I don’t,’ Falkner bit out tersely. ‘Are you completely insane, or only mildly so?’ He arched blond brows over icy blue eyes.

  She deliberately gave the question some thought. ‘Only mildly so, I think,’ she finally answered him. ‘But I can’t be sure,’ she added challengingly. Challenging him was better than throwing herself into his arms! she decided.

  ‘I can,’ he rasped grimly, putting the bucket firmly to one side before turning back to her. ‘Have you forgotten that you broke your ribs only two weeks ago?’

  Of course she hadn’t forgotten. It was impossible for her to do that. When she’d woken up this morning her body had seemed to ache everywhere, not just her ribs, and it had taken her almost half an hour to get out of bed, wash, and get dressed. The aches in the rest of her body had eased as she’d joined in the busy morning routine of the stable, but the ache in her ribs seemed, if anything, to be worse.

  ‘What does that have to do with anything?’ she snapped.

  ‘Everything!’ Falkner exploded. ‘For goodness’ sake, Skye, I told you last night that you don’t have to work—’

  ‘You told me no such thing,’ she returned just as angrily, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. ‘If you’re referring to the
trust fund, I’m not twenty-five for another seven months, remember?’

  ‘But as the trustees of your trust fund, Peter Bryant and myself are empowered to use our discretion as to the distribution of those funds until such time as you are twenty-five!’ Falkner glared down at her.

  ‘Well, no one told me that!’ Skye snapped forcefully.

  If it weren’t for the disparity in their heights, she and Falkner would have been nose to nose at that moment, both of them furious, chins jutting, eyes glaring.

  Falkner seemed to see the funny side of the situation only seconds after Skye, his mouth twitching as he tried to hold back a smile, some of the tension leaving his body as he sighed. ‘No, they didn’t, did they?’ he conceded wryly. ‘Well, we do. And we will. We’ll discuss and agree on that when we meet at four o’clock this afternoon. In the meantime, why don’t you get your things—?’

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ She frowned.

  ‘Get your things,’ Falkner repeated evenly. ‘I’ve already spoken to James, and he’s quite happy for you to leave immediately—’

  ‘You’ve spoken to James Hurley?’ Skye said slowly. Even she hadn’t spoken to the owner of the stables, all of her dealings so far having been through the stable manager.

  Falkner gave a humourless smile. ‘I told you this is a small community, Skye; James and I have known each other for years.’

  Why was that no surprise? But even so—!

  ‘Well, I’m sure that’s very nice for you both.’ She didn’t even try to disguise her sarcasm. ‘But what does that have to do with my working here?’ She raised challenging brows.

  Falkner’s eyes narrowed ominously. ‘I’ve explained the situation to James—’

  ‘What “situation”?’ Skye cut in sharply. So far no one working at the stable seemed to have recognized her as the daughter of Connor O’Hara who had been so much in the newspapers recently, or, if they had, they hadn’t been interested enough to pursue the subject…

  ‘The fact that you were recently involved in a car accident “situation”, of course,’ Falkner enlarged impatiently. ‘I’m not completely insensitive, Skye—’