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Millionaire's Woman

Page 47

by Helen Brooks


  “I can’t live without you, Ellie. Will you please marry me?”

  The cold wind had stopped blowing at the beginning of his uncharacteristic, stammering speech. By the end, the clouds in the sky had parted and a moonbeam streamed down onto the porch. It danced over her skin and slipped inside her veins, making her feel as though she were lit from within. “Garek,” she breathed. “Oh, Garek!” and hurled herself into his arms.

  She saw the tension in his face disappear and an expression she’d never seen before light up his eyes, before his arms closed around her and he was kissing her fiercely.

  She returned the kiss with equal strength, until she could barely breathe. She felt as though she were going to float up off the ground, her happiness was so intense.

  With a choked laugh, he broke off the kiss. “I don’t want to spoil your ‘no sex before marriage’policy at this late date. Can you be ready tomorrow?”

  She blinked up at him, surprised and rather disappointed. “Tomorrow?” she repeated vaguely, trying to resist the urge to unbutton his coat. “For what?”

  “For our wedding, of course.”

  She gasped, his words dispelling her sensual haze, somewhat. “You want to get married tomorrow? That’s impossible!”

  His jaw tightened in that stubborn way she knew so well. “Why?”

  A choked laugh escaped her. “I have to buy a dress, I have to give Martina time to find a new roommate, I have to get time off work—”

  “I’ll pay the rent for Martina and you can quit your job.” His eyes dark and sensuous, he whispered, “I can’t wait much longer, Ellie.”

  A shiver coursed through her. Of course, she wasn’t going to quit her job or let him pay her rent. But the truth of the matter was, she didn’t want to wait either. “Give me a week.”

  For a moment, she thought he was going to refuse. But then he said, “You’ve got your week—but I warn you—” his eyes gleamed “—I’m kidnapping you after that.”

  She laughed. “A week doesn’t give me much time. I’m really going to have to cancel our date tomorrow.”

  “If you insist. But you’ll have to make up for it now.”

  He kissed her—extremely thoroughly—until they were both breathing hard.

  “Maybe it’s better that I don’t see you this week,” he said huskily, resting his forehead against hers. “I can’t take too much of this.”

  “Do we really have to wait?” she asked, still breathless. “Why don’t you come inside?”

  “Ellie…” He leaned back, his hand cupping the curve of her cheek, his gaze dark and serious. “For once in my life, I want to do the right thing. I’m going to marry you first.”

  She would have laughed at the grim determination in his voice if her throat wasn’t suddenly so impossibly tight. “Oh, Garek,” she whispered, blinking back foolish, happy tears.

  He groaned. “Don’t look at me like that, or I won’t be able to help myself.” He kissed her hard, then again, more slowly. “I can’t go a whole week without seeing you. We can at least have lunch together. Monday. Come to my office around noon?”

  She nodded. With one final kiss, he released her and thrust his hands into his pockets, as if to prevent himself from reaching out for her again. She went inside and closed the door, but couldn’t resist running to the window to watch him go. He strode down the stairs to the sidewalk, looking tall and strong and handsome.

  She hugged her arms around herself. She couldn’t believe this was happening.

  She supposed she shouldn’t have said yes so quickly. After all her doubts, after all their differences, she should have at least asked for some time to think it over.

  But she hadn’t been able to think. She’d been too surprised and too happy—too deliriously, ecstatically happy. She loved him. And he loved her.

  She believed that with all her heart.

  Whistling, Garek entered his office late Monday morning. Larry and Mrs. Grist were already there.

  Garek smiled. “Good morning, Mrs. Grist, Larry,” he said cheerfully.

  Mrs. Grist responded civilly, but Larry only stared at him in astonishment.

  “Mrs. Grist,” Garek continued, ignoring Larry’s silence, “would you please clear all appointments for two weeks—no, make that a month—starting next week. I will not be available.”

  Now Mrs. Grist looked startled. “But what about the meeting with the Lachland lawyers? They want to go over the independent auditor’s report in detail. Most of the auditor’s points are perfectly ridiculous, but the lawyers have a lot of questions—”

  “Reschedule the meeting for this week,” Garek said. “If they can’t make it, suggest a teleconference.”

  Larry frowned. “What’s happened?”

  Garek looked at the two anxious faces before him. “Nothing,” he said. “Except that Ellie and I are getting married.”

  An exclamation escaped Mrs. Grist. She beamed like a hundred lightbulbs. “Well, it’s about time! Congratulations, Mr. Wisnewski. She’s a fine young woman, and I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.”

  Garek smiled back. “Thank you, Mrs. Grist.” He glanced at Larry.

  Larry, in contrast to Mrs. Grist, did not look at all pleased by Garek’s news. In fact, he looked downright worried.

  Garek arched an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Larry?”

  “What? Oh, uh, no. Congratulations,” Larry said hurriedly. “Uh, could I see you in your office?”

  “Certainly.” To Mrs. Grist, Garek said, “Ellie is coming to meet me for lunch. Have her come up immediately when she arrives.”

  In his office, Garek sat at his desk and looked at Larry’s concerned face. “Yes?”

  Larry hesitated a moment, then launched into speech. “This girl, Eleanor Hernandez—do you know anything about her finances?”

  Garek arched a brow. “I haven’t looked at her bank statement, no.”

  Larry’s frown deepened. “I dislike having to be the voice of caution, but that is part of my job. You must get her to sign a prenuptial agreement.”

  Now it was Garek’s turn to frown. “I hardly think that’s necessary.”

  “It is necessary. You know as well as I do that fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce—”

  “I have no intention of getting a divorce.”

  “No one does, Garek. But you’ve got to realize that people change, things go wrong, you can’t always predict what your feelings will be five, ten, fifteen years from now.”

  “We’re not getting divorced,” Garek said, steel in his voice. “But even if we did, I would treat Ellie fairly.”

  “Yes, I’m sure you would. But her definition of fair might be very different from yours. Believe me, after four divorces, I know what I’m talking about. Women can be very vindictive when they’re angry.”

  “Ellie’s not like that.”

  “Maybe not—but she would legally be entitled to a portion of all your assets—she might even try to go after your business. You owe it to your stockholders, if not yourself, to protect the company.”

  Garek frowned. As much as he hated to admit it, what Larry said made sense. He had a responsibility to the company. He couldn’t shirk that just because he was getting married.

  “How long will it take you to draft an agreement?” he asked abruptly.

  “I’ll have to consult with a prenuptial expert, get a financial statement from your accountant, write out a schedule of separate property and an expense-payment schedule and a waiver of interest in the business…although maybe it would be safer to establish a trust to protect Wisnewski Industries. I’m guessing a month, maybe two—”

  “You have until Thursday.”

  “Until Thursday! But—” Larry stopped midsentence. Something in Garek’s expression must have made him rethink what he was about to say.

  “Very well,” the lawyer agreed. “I’ll have it ready.”

  Larry left, and Garek stared for a moment at the painting of Woman in Blue, before tur
ning his gaze to the independent auditor’s report on his desk. He could guess what it contained. Trouble. Lots of trouble.

  The Lachland buyout had been progressing so smoothly—perhaps too smoothly. He damn well should have known that no deal ever happened that easily.

  He picked up the phone.

  “I’m going to have to spend the day going over the auditor’s report,” he told Mrs. Grist curtly. “Call Ms. Hernandez and cancel our lunch.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Ellie’s treatment when she entered Wisnewski Industries on Thursday was very different from the first time she’d gone there. The security guard escorted her up the elevator himself, telling her that if she needed anything to just let him know.

  “Thank you,” Ellie responded, only half aware of his eager solicitude. She was thinking of Garek.

  It was probably just as well that he’d canceled their lunch on Monday. She’d been terribly busy that whole day—and on Tuesday and Wednesday, also. She’d had to cancel her lease since Martina had decided to move in with friends who needed a third roommate. She’d also had to notify the utilities and the newspapers, both the Tribune and the Sun Times, and buy herself a wedding dress; she’d found a beautiful white lace frock in a small boutique off Michigan Avenue for half price. Ellie’d also arranged for Bertrice to fill in for her at the gallery while she was on her honeymoon. Bertrice had been reluctant at first, but had changed her mind when she heard how much Garek was paying.

  The power of money, Ellie thought.

  But the idea didn’t bother her as much as it once had. She could put Garek’s money to good use, she realized. She appreciated that now in a way she hadn’t been able to a year ago. It had been silly of her to fear wealth. Money couldn’t destroy what she and Garek had. She wouldn’t let it.

  But of course, that brought her to her other problem—there were a few things she should tell Garek. None of them was really relevant to their relationship, but he had a right to know.

  She’d intended to tell him on Monday, but then his assistant had called to cancel. She hadn’t thought too much about it, imagining that he must be extremely busy. She’d expected he would call her that night.

  When he hadn’t, she’d been half disappointed, half relieved. But then, when another day passed, and he still didn’t call, she began to feel more and more uncertain.

  Why didn’t he call her? True, they’d agreed not to meet, but did that preclude telephone conversations, as well? Was he having second thoughts? Now that she thought about it, he hadn’t really said he loved her. The words hadn’t seemed necessary at the time. They’d been implicit in his actions.

  Hadn’t they?

  Of course they had. She was acting like a ninny. She should just call him…

  And so she had. He’d sounded a bit curt at first, but when she told him she wanted to meet him for lunch, he’d agreed.

  “Tomorrow would be good. There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he’d said.

  “Me, too.” She hesitated a moment, then asked, “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes.” And then, “I just hate this damn waiting.”

  The frustration and longing in his voice had sent her spirits soaring. She’d been smiling when she hung up the phone.

  He did love her, she thought now as she stepped off the elevator. And she loved him…

  His assistant, talking on the phone, smiled and motioned her toward the office. Ellie entered quietly and saw him sitting at his desk, his hair rumpled, his tie askew, his jacket straining across his shoulders as he bent over some papers.

  Dear heaven, how she loved him. For a moment, the emotion almost overwhelmed her. She felt fluttery and elated and buoyant just looking at him. How could she have doubted it for a second?

  “Hello, darling,” she said, a smile trembling on her lips as she stepped forward.

  He looked up. Something blazed in his eyes, but he didn’t return her smile. He had a tense look about his mouth and jaw. She heard a low cough. Turning, she saw a short man in a tailored suit rising from a chair.

  Garek stood also. “Ellie, this is Larry Larson, the company lawyer. He has something for you to sign.”

  “Something for me to sign?” Ellie repeated in confusion. “What is it?”

  Garek met her puzzled gaze steadily.

  “A prenuptial agreement,” he said.

  Garek watched Ellie as Larry explained the contract to her. She was very quiet. She’d barely said a word since he’d first told her about the prenuptial agreement. She sat in the chair across from him, her face very pale.

  What was she thinking? He didn’t know. Except for one stunned glance at him when he’d made his announcement, she hadn’t looked at him. She looked hurt. She looked as though he’d done something unspeakable.

  Dammit, he thought angrily. She had no right to look like that. No right at all. It was common sense to settle their financial matters before they married. It made no difference to their relationship. Couldn’t she see that?

  Larry finished his explanation. He flipped to the back page of the document and showed her the signature line. “You just need to sign here,” he said, holding out his pen.

  Ellie didn’t take the pen. Instead, she rose to her feet and gathered up the pages.

  “Is something wrong?” Larry asked.

  “No, not at all,” she said calmly. “I just want to take it home and read through it.”

  Larry frowned. “But I explained all of the clauses to you.”

  “Yes, I know. I still want to read them over on my own.”

  Garek frowned also. “Is there something you don’t understand?”

  “No, not really.”

  “Then there’s no reason to delay signing,” the lawyer said, his voice a trifle chilly.

  Her voice was equally cool. “I disagree. You’ve explained to me the necessity for this. Your reasons were practical. But I must be practical, also. It’s only common sense to read something before I sign it, perhaps have my lawyer look it over.”

  Larry gaped at her.

  She gave Garek a slightly shaky smile. “Do you mind if we skip lunch? I’m not very hungry…” She turned and walked out of the room.

  Garek went after her.

  “Ellie,” he said, catching her elbow in the hall outside Mrs. Grist’s office. “Dammit, it doesn’t have to be like this—”

  “Like what?”

  Her expression was cool and remote—except for her eyes—her eyes were big blue pools of pain. Releasing her, he shoved his hands in his pockets and stepped back. “I can’t take chances with the business.”

  “I know. I’m not mad, honestly. It’s just that…oh, why does money have to ruin everything? Why does it make everything corrupt and ugly?”

  He frowned at her. “You’re exaggerating.”

  “I know. I know. I guess I’m still in shock. I wish you’d told me about this sooner.”

  “I’ve been busy.” It was difficult suddenly to meet her gaze. “I just signed the Lachland buyout this morning. It means a lot to Wisnewski Industries.”

  “Does it? I’m happy for you, then.” She turned her face away, brushing the dampness from her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I have to go.” She hurried out the door.

  “Ellie…” He started after her again, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

  It was Larry.

  “Let her go,” the lawyer said. “Don’t fall for the tears.”

  Garek glared at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “The tears.” Larry shook his head. “Men fall for it every time. I fell for it four times myself. Leave her alone—she’ll sign the prenup and she’ll forget about it, believe me. Until the divorce. Um, if there’s a divorce,” he added hastily.

  “Get the hell out of here,” Garek snarled.

  Larry beat a hasty retreat.

  For the next several hours, Garek tried to concentrate on his work. He had plans to make now that the Lachland buyout had taken place.
He could easily spend the next six months working out all the details. This was an exciting, challenging time for Wisnewski Industries. He should have had no trouble focusing on his work.

  But then, he’d never been in as ituation like this before.

  He pushed away the profit-and-loss statements he was studying and leaned back in his chair. He wanted to marry Ellie. He’d made the decision impulsively, but he’d thought it was the right one. Only now he wasn’t so sure.

  Ever since Larry had brought up the subject of the prenuptial agreement, needles of doubt had poked at him. This whole marriage thing was more difficult than he’d thought it would be. He didn’t like having demands put on him. And in her own way, he realized suddenly, Ellie was more demanding than Doreen and Amber combined.

  He almost wished she did want money—that would have been easy to give. But Ellie wanted something more complicated than that.

  He wished he’d just slept with her.

  Only somehow, that wasn’t enough. He wanted more, also. He wanted…what exactly? He didn’t know. What the hell was the matter with him?

  He frowned at the painting on the wall across from him.

  Woman in Blue.

  He’d disliked it at first. He’d thought it was silly and stupid and pointless. But somehow, over the last few months, it had begun to grow on him. It brightened up his office, made the room seem less dull, less enclosed. It was like having a window into an alternate reality.

  As he looked at it now, he saw how the colors moved in sinuous tendrils and rhythmic scalloped patterns and how the blue became more and more intense as it moved toward the center of the painting. There was no one spot where you could see a change in hue, but the blue slowly, gradually, became brighter and brighter until in the very center it was an intense, bright sapphire…

  And suddenly he understood.

  Garek tried all afternoon and all evening to reach Ellie, but she seemed to have disappeared from the city of Chicago. Her phone had been disconnected and when he went to her apartment, the windows were dark and no one answered the door. He went to the gallery, but the idiot girl there said Ellie was on vacation. He even went to her aunt and uncle’s house, but they only looked at him coolly and said they had no idea where she was.

 

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