Claiming His Wedding Night

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Claiming His Wedding Night Page 8

by Lee Wilkinson


  Clearly wanting more than mere words, he nudged her hand with a big black nose.

  She responded by stroking him, and laughed as he snuffled rapturously.

  ‘Fancy you wanting all this fuss.’

  ‘He’s jealous,’ Jared told her. ‘Has been ever since he realized he was being upstaged by a wolf. However, we can easily divert him.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Simply by mentioning the word food…’

  The dog immediately lifted his head and sat to attention, looking at his master.

  ‘He’s still got a puppy’s appetite,’ Jared explained, ‘so he’s always ready to eat…Speaking of which, are you happy to eat out here?’

  ‘Quite happy, if it won’t bother your housekeeper.’

  ‘Hilary organizes everything. When she knows I’m coming, she leaves a meal ready and then goes home to her husband.’

  ‘Oh…’

  Seeing the sudden unease she wasn’t able to hide, a glint in his eye, he said, ‘I hope it doesn’t bother you that we’re here alone?’

  ‘No, why should it?’ Knowing she’d sounded anything but convincing, she added, ‘After all, you’re a married man.’

  ‘I am indeed,’ he agreed with some satisfaction.

  All her previous melancholy closing in once more, she realized unhappily that coming to join him had solved nothing, and she tried to think of a good excuse to get out of eating with him.

  She still hadn’t found one when, indicating the wing that ran alongside the terrace, he suggested quizzically, ‘As you and Sam have been…shall we say…up close and personal, there’s a cloakroom through there if you’d like to rinse off before we have supper.’

  Putting her empty glass on the low table between the loungers, she got to her feet and began, ‘On second thoughts, I’m not really hungry. If you don’t mind, I’ll skip supper and go straight back to—’

  Rising with her, he broke in firmly, ‘But I do mind. As you may remember, I’ve never much cared for eating alone.’

  He took her chin, fingers spread on one side, thumb on the other, and tilted her face up to his, making the protest die on her lips.

  ‘I want you to stay.’

  Silvery eyes met and held blue-green and, as with Guinevere and Lancelot, hers fell first.

  ‘Very well,’ she mumbled.

  As soon as he released her she turned and, trembling in every limb, fled to the well equipped cloakroom to wash her face and hands.

  When she reluctantly returned, she found Sam had been banished to the far side of the terrace with a lion-sized bowl of food which he was golloping with noisy enjoyment.

  To Perdita’s surprise, the table had been set with linen napkins, crystal glasses and a tall red candle in an onyx holder.

  On a side trolley there was a platter of cheeses and a bowl of fruit and, on a hotplate, several dishes were keeping warm.

  Watching her expressive face, Jared grinned and queried, ‘Impressed?’

  ‘Very. I confess I’d expected something a great deal more casual.’

  Having pulled out a chair for her, he explained, ‘Where quite a lot of the local people tend to eat casually when it’s alfresco, Hilary believes that good food should be served in style.’

  A purple dusk was falling now, and he lit the candle before settling Perdita at the table and helping them both to a glass of chilled white wine and a bowl of lobster bisque.

  Raising his glass, he suggested, ‘Shall we drink to a successful outcome to our negotiations?’

  ‘Successful for whom?’ she asked a shade tartly.

  He laughed and saluted her spirit, before querying, ‘Isn’t true success achieved only when both parties get what they want?’

  After a moment, she admitted a shade helplessly, ‘I still don’t know for sure what you do want.’

  When he just looked at her without speaking, she said vexedly, ‘I think it’s high time you told me why you went to so much trouble to get me out here.’

  ‘I suggest that we eat first and talk later,’ he said, his voice even. ‘It would be a shame if the soup got cold.’

  Seeing nothing else for it, Perdita bit back her impatience and applied herself to the bisque, which proved to be excellent.

  It was followed by baked trout with almonds, and artichoke hearts with a beurre blanc sauce.

  When her plate was empty, Perdita sighed and admitted, ‘Your housekeeper is a wonderful cook.’

  ‘I’ll tell her you said so; she’s always pleased when people enjoy her meals. She firmly believes, as I do, that good food is one of life’s pleasures. Now, try a little of this cheese…’

  When they had finished the cheese course he filled their coffee cups and, producing a fine old brandy, poured them each a generous measure.

  Perdita, who normally drank very little, had already enjoyed two glasses of wine and was starting to feel a little light-headed. But, trying a cautious sip, she found it tasted smooth and mellow and relatively innocent.

  Even so, she decided, it might be wise to drink her coffee first.

  As she picked up her cup, Sam came ambling over and, settling himself in front of her, he sat up and begged clumsily, waving his front paws as if trying to keep his balance.

  ‘Oh, look at him!’ she exclaimed, laughing. Then, to the dog, ‘You really are a smart pup, but I’m afraid I don’t know what you want.’

  ‘He wants some coffee,’ Jared told her.

  ‘Surely you don’t give him coffee?’

  ‘No, not as a rule, but Hilary does.’

  Reaching over, Jared covered the dog’s big ears before whispering, ‘She’s trying to stunt his growth. Though I’m inclined to think she may have left it a little too late.’

  Perdita gave a gurgle of laughter. ‘A lot too late, if you ask me.’

  ‘Oh, well, I suppose I’d better pour him some,’ Jared said good-naturedly and rose to his feet. ‘Otherwise we’ll get no peace.’

  When the dog had been provided with a bowl of milky coffee, Jared resumed his seat and sipped his own coffee in silence.

  He seemed to have lapsed into a reflective mood. But, thinking back to her earlier question and determined to get an answer this time, Perdita took a deep breath and said, ‘Now we’ve finished our meal, perhaps you’ll be kind enough to tell me exactly why you brought me here. There has to be a reason.’

  A little smile twisting his chiselled lips, he said, ‘I thought you’d made up your mind that it was just to exact revenge?’

  ‘I can’t see what else it could possibly be.’

  ‘If I may say so, that shows a remarkable lack of imagination on your part.’ The merest hint of a threat in his tone, he added, ‘There are other equally interesting reasons.’

  In an attempt to hide the sudden quiver that ran through her, she said challengingly, ‘Perhaps you’d like to tell me what they are?’

  ‘Firstly, I thought it might be time to give things a second chance.’

  ‘What do you mean by that?’

  ‘Exactly what I say.’

  Seeing he had no intention of elaborating, she bit her lip before returning to the attack. ‘But “giving things a second chance” isn’t the only reason?’

  ‘No.’ Candlelight gleamed in his eyes, turning the silver to gold. ‘There was a far more pressing one.’

  ‘And what was that?’ she asked, trying hard to hide her apprehension.

  She was both surprised and shocked when he said flatly, ‘I couldn’t allow you to go ahead and marry Judson.’

  ‘Allow me to marry Martin!’ she choked. ‘There’s no way you can stop me.’

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that…’ He rose to his feet with an easy masculine grace. ‘Shall we have some more coffee?’

  Why was he so set against her marrying Martin? she wondered as she watched him fill the coffee cups.

  But, whatever his reasons, she told herself stoutly, there was no way he could prevent the marriage. He couldn’t keep her in the St
ates indefinitely.

  Perhaps his plan was to make not marrying Martin part of a deal to save JB Electronics?

  If it was, where would that leave her?

  Though she felt dreadfully disloyal, honesty made her admit that she couldn’t claim she would be heartbroken. But if she was forced to cancel the wedding, Martin was bound to be badly hurt.

  No, she couldn’t—wouldn’t—do that to him. He didn’t deserve it.

  Returning with the coffee, Jared suggested, ‘Suppose we move back to the loungers to drink it?’

  When they were both settled in the loungers, as though he’d been given a signal, Sam came over and settled himself at his master’s side.

  While Jared absently fondled the hound’s ears, determined to have some answers, Perdita asked, ‘Why don’t you want me to marry Martin?’

  As he looked at her levelly, she hurried on, ‘I know there’s no love lost between the pair of you, but surely it has to be more than that?’

  ‘You’re quite right. In fact, I have two very good reasons. Firstly, I don’t believe you love him—’

  ‘I do,’ she insisted. ‘Passionately. But what can it possibly matter to you whether or not I love him?’

  ‘It matters quite a lot.’

  About to challenge him on that, she chickened out and instead asked, ‘And what’s the second reason?’

  ‘He’s not good enough for you.’

  Feeling the need to defend Martin, she cried, ‘Let me tell you that as well as being loyal and faithful, he’s one of the nicest, kindest men I’ve ever met. He’s straightforward and honest. He hasn’t a nasty bone in his body.’

  Jared’s white teeth flashed in a mirthless smile. ‘I’m afraid you’re deluding yourself. He’s cunning and deceitful, and a liar to boot.’

  ‘How can you make such accusations?’ she stormed. ‘They’re just not true.’

  ‘They’re true enough.’

  ‘I don’t know what makes you think that. Martin’s incapable of lies and deceit.’

  His voice full of bitterness, Jared said, ‘If only you’d championed me like that.’

  ‘I would have done if you’d been worth it,’ she flashed, and saw his face turn pale, as if the words were rocks she’d hit him with.

  Suddenly she would have given a lot to have left them unspoken, and she felt the quick prick of tears behind her eyes.

  When she had succeeded in getting her emotions under control, she made an effort to battle on. ‘Let’s suppose I agreed to call the wedding off…Is that all you want?’

  A razor-sharp edge to his voice, he said, ‘Not by a long chalk.’

  There was, she saw, a complete change in his manner. Before she’d spoken those fatal words, though always the man in command, he had appeared relatively relaxed and easy.

  True he had been a tough, challenging opponent, but an attractive, charismatic one.

  Now he was wholly formidable and frightening, a man who would have no mercy and give no quarter.

  All his previous hardness was back, and it showed in the tightness of his jaw, the ruthless set of his lips, and the silvery-grey eyes that were as cold and bleak as any glacier.

  She shivered. But if she let him see she was afraid, she would be lost.

  That thought in mind, she said with far more boldness than she felt, ‘I think it’s about time you stopped playing games with me and told me in words of one syllable just what it is you do want.’

  ‘In words of one syllable, I want you.’

  She sat mute and frozen, trying to tell herself she had misheard but knowing she hadn’t.

  ‘It seems to have come as a shock to you,’ he observed sardonically.

  Somehow she found her voice. ‘But you told me you were married.’

  ‘I am married.’

  Stammering a little, she said, ‘Then I…I don’t…I just don’t understand.’

  ‘Is I want you so very difficult to understand?’

  ‘In spite of the fact that you have a wife, you’re asking me to share your bed?’

  His dark, handsome face looking cold and implacable, he told her, ‘I’m not asking you anything. I’m telling you.’

  ‘You must be joking,’ she said shakily. ‘What would your wife say if she…’

  Something about his expression alerted her, and the words faltered and died on her lips as, belatedly, realization began to dawn.

  The last remnants of colour draining from her face, she stared at him in startled silence.

  ‘I can see you’re finally getting there,’ he said with grim satisfaction.

  Unwilling to believe it, she whispered, ‘You can’t mean that I’m…?’

  ‘Still my wife? That’s exactly what I mean.’

  Through stiff lips she accused, ‘You didn’t have our marriage annulled, after all!’

  ‘No, I didn’t…’ he said evenly.

  It had been a whirlwind affair in a small chapel just outside Las Vegas, a marriage that was no marriage, that had never been consummated.

  ‘And, while our wedding wasn’t particularly romantic,’ he went on flatly, ‘it was legal and binding. We’re still man and wife…’

  So that was why he couldn’t let her marry Martin.

  As though reading her mind, Jared reached for her hand and, slipping off her engagement ring, dropped it into his shirt pocket. ‘Which means it’s high time we got rid of this.’

  Still struggling to take in what he’d told her, she failed to protest.

  In truth, the huge diamond solitaire on its platinum band had never meant half as much to her as the gold ring Jared had given her, with its pale turquoise stone that, he had told her, matched her beautiful eyes.

  But that had been a long time ago, and so much had happened since then to spoil a love she had once considered perfect.

  Finding they were still married had been a shock, scattering her wits like a shotgun blast scattered starlings and jarring her mind so that it seemed incapable of functioning.

  After a moment, from amongst the welter of confusion, one thing that had been niggling at her, painful as a sore tooth, suddenly surfaced.

  Lifting her head, she said slowly, ‘You told Sally we were still married. That’s the reason she agreed to help you.’

  ‘It was one of the reasons.’

  Though the last thing Perdita had wanted or expected was to find herself still tied to Jared, it was a relief to be able to acquit a woman she had grown to like and respect.

  After a moment, she gathered herself and said, ‘I don’t understand why you didn’t have the marriage annulled. It had never been consummated, and I sent you all the necessary papers and sworn affidavits.’

  ‘I didn’t want an annulment,’ he said evenly. ‘I wanted my wife back.’

  Her normally low, slightly husky voice sounding high and shrill even in her own ears, she cried, ‘Now I understand. But if you think for one instant that I’d be willing to come back to you, you’re crazy.’

  ‘If I am,’ he said grimly, ‘it’s because you’ve made me that way. But, crazy or not, they are my terms. If you want to save your father any further worry and stress and keep his company afloat, you’ll need to agree to them.’

  ‘Well, if this is your idea of negotiating, you’ve been wasting your time. I’ve absolutely no intention of agreeing to them.’

  ‘As always, it’s up to you,’ he said evenly. ‘But there’s quite a lot at stake, so you might want to think about it before you refuse.’

  He was right about there being a lot at stake, but she couldn’t sink her pride and go back to him, she just couldn’t!

  He stayed silent, giving her time, and after a minute or so she asked, as he had surely known she would, ‘And presumably you would still want a controlling interest in the company?’

  He shook his head. ‘I’ll settle for fifty per cent of the shares.’

  ‘So what exactly are you offering in return for me and fifty per cent of the shares?’ Her voice shook, making her
attempt at sarcasm a miserable failure.

  His manner businesslike and to the point, he said, ‘As soon as I have your agreement, I’ll buy the shares at the full market price and pay off the mortgage on your father’s house as well as all the bank loans and overdrafts.

  ‘I’ll also provide an immediate injection of cash.’ He named a sum that made her blink. ‘And if I judge that the new projects you mentioned are worth it, I’ll provide ample funds to finance them through to completion.’

  Trying to take it in and feeling a little dazed, she asked, ‘Would you mind saying all that again?’

  He repeated word for word what he had just said.

  It was a much more generous offer than she might have dared to expect or hope for, and the consequences of refusing would be dire.

  The company her father and Elmer had spent a lifetime building up would go down the drain. Their loyal employees would lose their jobs and, instead of her father and Elmer being able to retire comfortably, they would end up bankrupt and without a roof over their heads.

  Common sense told her that Martin and Elmer would be able to weather the storm somehow, but in her father’s case it was bound to put a serious strain on his heart.

  Yet how could she bring herself to live with a man she no longer loved? A man she was more than half afraid of? A man from whose dark spell she had struggled so hard to escape…?

  While turbulent thoughts tumbled through her mind, she stared blindly at the hands clasped tightly together in her lap, desperately seeking a solution when common sense told her there wasn’t one.

  His eyes fixed on her down-bent face, Jared finally broke the silence to ask, ‘Well? Have you decided?’

  Lifting her head, she took a deep shuddering breath and, trying to sound firm but only managing to sound panic-stricken and desperate, said, ‘I can’t give you an answer straight away. I need time to think about it.’

  ‘Very well. I’ll give you twenty-four hours.’

  Twenty-four hours wasn’t long, but it was at least a breathing space, a temporary reprieve from having to make such a traumatic decision.

  CHAPTER SIX

  WHILE PERDITA had been caught up in a maelstrom of turbulent thoughts, the last traces of evening had flown and a starlit night had taken its place.

 

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