A plan which he’d been impatient to execute because he’d wanted to move on with his life. Truth be told, he’d wanted it over with a decade ago. But he couldn’t simply abandon it—he couldn’t simply let his mother’s death go without exacting some sort of punishment.
‘I do drink, yes.’ Oti’s quiet voice dragged him mercifully back to the present. ‘Though I prefer wine to brandy.’
‘Red or white?’
‘Red, if there’s a choice,’ she replied, unfailingly polite, which nearly killed him.
He opened the bespoke wine cabinet and selected a bottle, then set about opening it. In silence again, feigning a patience that he didn’t feel, until at last he was crossing the room towards her and setting the glass of wine down on the expensive coffee table.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured, lifting the glass elegantly and taking a sip before setting it back down.
He wasn’t sure why, but he wondered if she found it as tasteless as he currently found his favourite brandy.
Moving away, Lukas found himself at the huge picture window. The view had always made him feel as though the city—and what felt like the entire world—was at his feet, but now Lukas peered down the long, straight, wide roads as if seeing past the city’s boundaries would somehow let him see the big picture that he’d been missing all this time.
‘Ask me what you want to know, Lukas.’ Her quiet voice flowed over him.
He didn’t turn around.
‘How about we start with why you went along with your father’s sick story that your brother was dead?’
His choice of words was designed to twist into her, too barbed to go unnoticed. Yet it didn’t escape him that he deliberately kept his back to her so that he didn’t have to see the expression in her eyes. So it surprised him when her tone stayed even.
‘I didn’t go along with my father’s sick story.’
He turned despite himself.
‘It was Edward’s request,’ she continued smoothly. ‘It just happened to have the same result as my father intended.’
‘Edward asked you to say he was dead?’ Lukas asked, wholly unprepared for the look of pain that crossed her delicate features before she seemed to steel herself.
And in that instant he hated that she had to wear such a mask around him.
‘My brother told me on multiple occasions that he wanted to...die.’
Lukas didn’t answer, not having a clue what to even begin to say.
‘The crash was bad.’
‘I saw the news reports at the time,’ Lukas confirmed.
Not to mention the fact that he’d done an internet search that afternoon, unable to concentrate on his meeting. Or any of the work that demanded his attention, for that matter.
It had been late on Christmas Eve, and Edward had allegedly been driving on a narrow, unlit valley road in the driving rain when an oncoming driver had lost control and skidded around the bend on Edward’s side of the road.
His vehicle had been rammed through the drystone wall and who knew how many times it had tumbled down the steep rocky slope before coming to a halt at the bottom, on its roof.
When had he crossed the room again? When had he lowered himself into the chair opposite her?
‘His injuries were...are significant.’
‘But he’s alive,’ Lukas clarified. ‘Is he in a coma?’
‘No, he isn’t.’
He didn’t particularly appreciate the feeling creeping through him at that moment.
‘He has brain damage?’
‘No, he’s alert, and his mind is as sharp as it ever was.’
‘I just bought the controlling shares of his company.’ Lukas eyed her grimly. He’d never regretted a business deal in his life. Until now.
‘Edward’s well aware.’ Her expression was rueful. ‘But, as far as he’s concerned, it’s better in your hands than Rockman’s.’
‘If his mind is still sharp, then why not keep the company? I only met him a couple of times, but he always struck me as a good CEO.’
‘He was. Most of the board agreed,’ she told him in a voice that Lukas now recognised was too calm, too controlled. As if she had a tight lid on myriad emotions which bubbled within but couldn’t afford to let a single one of them show. ‘Sadly, a few didn’t, and Edward agreed.’
She stopped abruptly. Lukas could have asked more, but he wanted her to tell him when she was ready. Clamping his jaw shut, he forced himself to wait.
‘He’s tetraplegic,’ she announced after what felt like an age. ‘He’s stuck in a wheelchair, he can’t move his arms or legs, he can’t even grasp things, and as far as Edward is concerned it’s no life at all.’
‘Yet, asking you to pretend he was dead—’ Lukas shook his head ‘—isn’t that a bit extreme?’
‘Not if he wanted to protect his privacy. His dignity.’ She shook her head. ‘He was an amateur racing car enthusiast, Lukas. The media were seriously attracted to him. Almost as much as you. Can you imagine if you were in an accident? The lengths they would go to get to you? In the first few days alone, after Edward’s accident, we caught three reporters or photographers dressed up as hospital porters, or a nurse, just to get in and get a photo of him. One of them even succeeded.’
He remembered it in that instant, the image flashing into his mind, making him wonder how he’d forgotten it. He’d been hooked up to machines and surrounded by tubes and wires. If it were himself, he could see how it would unnerve the board at LVW Industries.
‘So the photo of him in a coma, four years ago, wasn’t released by the family, as was claimed?’ Lukas realised with a jolt.
‘No, it was not. Not even my father would admit to Edward’s condition, even for money.’
This was what Oti had gone through? Having to deal with a relentless press whilst trying to come to terms with the seriousness of her brother’s accident. Especially after losing her mother six years earlier.
‘We had him moved to a private, very discreet medical facility. Fortunately, as company founder, he had the highest level of medical cover. Plus, the board wanted to keep the extent of his injuries concealed until they knew more, so as not to frighten any shareholders. Which was fortunate, since I can’t imagine my father had the means or the inclination to pay for Edward’s treatment.’
Neither could Lukas, but he wisely stayed silent.
‘At first, all I prayed for was that he would wake up. Then, when he couldn’t feel anything, I prayed that it was just bruising. We kept hoping that once the swelling went down he would be okay, albeit with rehabilitation. By the time we realised the full extent of his injuries, Edward had decided that he didn’t want anyone to know until he had come to terms with it himself, and the board agreed. It was decided that, as the press would be relentless in trying to get a photo of him as long as they knew he was alive, it was easier to pretend otherwise.’
‘And your father?’
‘He was only too happy to wash his hands of a son with a disability.’ Finally, she couldn’t keep the bitterness from her tone.
She looked so broken and defeated, so unlike the woman he’d imagined she was. And suddenly all Lukas wanted to do was go to her, scoop her into his arms and take all her pain away.
He had no idea where that came from.
Not least because he never allowed himself to feel anything. It made no sense.
‘Is that why you started volunteering in South Sudan?’
‘I wouldn’t have, if Edward hadn’t banned me from even visiting him for the first two years.’ She jerked her head up, her tone defensive.
‘I wasn’t attacking you.’
She eyed him warily, and he found he didn’t much like that either.
‘I had to get away. I needed to do something meaningful. And, although I’d managed to drop off the media’s radar for years, without
Edward to pursue any more, they turned their attention back to me.’
‘I believe there were articles,’ he mused, ‘and photos of wild parties and reckless behaviour.’
‘Old photos that hadn’t been released before.’ She looked embarrassed nonetheless. ‘I suspect people released them for money. Maybe even my father. And I could have fought them, but what would have been the point? People only want the salacious story. The pictures were of me—no one really cared whether they were out of date or not. Besides, I earned my wild-child reputation by my own actions.’
There was such a bleak turn to her countenance that it scraped at something inside Lukas. He couldn’t have said why he suspected there was far more to the story. Nor could he explain how he knew that now wasn’t the time to press her on it. So instead he asked her something else.
‘You said the money I gave you is for Edward?’
‘There’s an operation.’ She scrunched up her face and he got the impression that she was trying to decide how best to explain it.
He, a man who usually had to explain the intricate workings of computer programming or robotic workings to others. It might have been amusing, under other circumstances.
‘There’s a new operation. A combined nerve and tendon transfer, which could help him. Possibly. There’s no guarantee. It’s in clinical trials.’
‘So he’s in a trial?’
‘No, the nature of his injuries mean that he isn’t eligible for the trials. But we can still pay privately. I just didn’t have a way of guaranteeing the money and so I couldn’t even get him to agree to have an assessment to see if he would be a good candidate.’
‘And now you have my money.’
‘I won’t apologise, Lukas.’ She glowered.
‘I don’t expect you to. I’m assuring you that, no matter what else happens, you have my money. Your money. Whatever your brother needs, come to me. It’s just money, Oti.’
Shock then relief skittered over her lovely face. And then she smiled and her face lit up. It was like being dazzled by the light from the glory of the sun itself.
More than that, it seemed to warm his very soul. It seemed to make it feel whole again.
‘I called them today and they’ll see him at the end of the week.’ She shifted in her chair and he realised it was with excitement.
And something else that he couldn’t quite isolate. As much as he didn’t want to dampen her mood, Lukas couldn’t help asking more questions.
‘Do you mean that?’ She sounded almost breathless, and what did it say about him that he liked the impact he’d had on her?
‘I do. So your father wouldn’t pay for any of it?’ he asked.
‘He said he would. He promised he would pay for it with the obscene sum he extorted from you. But...’ She trailed off.
‘That’s why you agreed to marry me,’ Lukas realised. ‘Your father promised to pay for Edward’s operation if you married me.’
‘Yes.’
‘He reneged, though. That’s why you asked me. As your husband, I’d be honour-bound to agree? It was a last resort, but you still thought I needed buttering up?’
He didn’t need to spell it out for her; she was clearly embarrassed enough. She was also torn. He could read it in every line of her tense body. Still, he wasn’t surprised when she tried to defend the repugnant man.
‘I hoped he would honour it.’
‘Your father is too greedy for honour, Oti,’ Lukas murmured quietly. ‘He wanted the money for himself, whilst you wanted the money to save your brother’s life.’
‘You make it sound entirely noble and selfless.’ She frowned.
‘Because it is.’ Remorse stirred within him. ‘You’re the only one who hasn’t been self-serving throughout this entire arrangement.’
‘Am I?’ Her gaze slammed into his without warning. ‘So why did you marry me, Lukas? What’s in it for you? I mean, I understand the part of the deal where you got Edward’s company, and my father got his money, but why me?’
It was on the tip of his tongue to tell her that this conversation was about her, not him—just as he had back at the roadside that morning—but the words didn’t come.
‘I’m guessing my father thought our marriage might somehow keep you around to tap for more money when he blows through the first lot. But why agree, Lukas? You could have refused that part of the deal. He would still have taken your deal—it was almost double anything Rockman could offer.’
What was it about this one unique woman that had him twisting and turning, no longer sure of the difference between black and white, night and day? It was all a glorious confusion where Oti was concerned.
And, for the first time, he felt an inexplicable urge to talk to her as he’d never talked to anyone in his life.
* * *
Oti wasn’t sure at what point she realised she was holding her breath, but suddenly she was aware of the feeling that her lungs were about to burst.
Lukas had been silent for so long that it seemed as though he was actually going to talk to her. She desperately wanted him to. What wouldn’t she give to be the person Lukas Woods talked to? In a way she seriously doubted the notoriously closed-off man had ever talked to anyone.
But then, without warning, he shut down again.
‘You should have told me what was going on, Oti. I asked you several times if you knew what you were doing.’
‘I remember.’ She drew in a long breath, trying not to let the disappointment flood through her. ‘And in that sense, yes, I knew. But I couldn’t tell you about Edward, I didn’t know what you would do—if you would use it as further leverage against me.’
‘You think I’m capable of that?’
He looked utterly appalled. But there was something adding to her disappointment now. Something more. Something like the beginnings of anger.
He wouldn’t answer a single one of her questions, yet he was virtually flaying her with every one of his. And she was supposed to answer without complaint?
‘Yes. No. I don’t know.’ She exhaled her confusion. ‘I thought so...but the more I’ve got to know you...’
And yet if the emergency this morning hadn’t happened, she couldn’t be sure that she would have said anything.
‘How did you even get to be a doctor without everyone knowing?’ He caught her by surprise.
‘It’s a long story.’
This was verging into territory that she didn’t want to go.
‘We have all night,’ he answered evenly, but there was an unmistakable steel to his tone.
‘It isn’t that interesting.’
‘It is to me,’ he refuted.
‘As is your life to me.’ She didn’t know where it came from, but she heard the words spilling out. ‘Yet you keep all your secrets whilst demanding all of mine.’
He scowled at her, but he didn’t refute what she said. Oti took that as progress.
‘Tell me something about you, Lukas. Something no one else knows.’
The room fell quiet. Almost deafeningly silent. And even though she knew he wouldn’t answer her, she couldn’t bring herself to break it. She didn’t want to be the one to speak first.
‘Something like what?’ he gritted out, taking her by surprise.
It took her a moment to regroup, her heart knocking around her chest as her mind rapidly sifted through the hundreds of questions that had flitted across her brain at once.
‘Tell me about your parents,’ she asked abruptly.
‘My parents are dead, but you know that. I think the world knows I wrote my first app aged fifteen in the bedroom of my foster home.’
‘A two-metre by one-metre cupboard that barely passed as a bedroom,’ she couldn’t help herself from saying. ‘Yes, I’ve read that, but...’
‘The size of the room was irrelevant.’ He cut her of
f unexpectedly. ‘It was my room. All mine. And the family left me in peace. I got shunted between multiple foster homes and care homes in the four years between my mother dying and my reaching sixteen, and that foster home was the only one where I felt safe. Secure.’
‘I never knew that.’
And, deep down, she’d never expected Lukas to share anything real with her.
‘No, well, the media prefer the lonely orphan story.’ His tone was impartial. As though he hadn’t told her something so personal. ‘And I let them use that line because it kept the press away from the foster family’s door, which has made it safer for other foster kids in care.’
There was something about his choice of language that caught her attention.
‘Has made?’ she queried. ‘As in, you’re still in touch with them?’
That definitely wasn’t widely known. Lukas narrowed his eyes at her, giving her the sense that he was weighing her up.
‘I hear from them occasionally. And I call from time to time. They’re in their eighties now.’
‘I didn’t know.’ She shook her head.
‘Why would you?’
The air grew heavy and expectant again, until Oti was sure she could hear the very hair growing on her head. He’d already told her such a lot—far more than anything she’d ever read on the internet or in magazines over the years—and yet she couldn’t seem to let the conversation end. She was suddenly hungry to know more, to understand better, and the voraciousness of her appetite should have terrified her.
‘But before the foster home?’ she began. ‘Before your mother died?’
He didn’t answer and, after a moment, she felt compelled to fill the silence.
‘I’d just turned nineteen when my mother died. It was her death that shook me out of acting the wild child and made me realise I wanted to do something more with my life. That was when I went back to school, sat my A-levels and got myself into med school.’
‘Is that why you let your father keep pretending that you were the out-of-control social-climber?’ he asked almost offhandedly. ‘Because you felt guilty that you hadn’t got yourself together before your mother’s death?’
Tempted by Her Convenient Husband Page 9
