by Valerie Parv
He lifted a quizzical eyebrow at her. “So composed, Zoe. No other reaction beyond ‘very well’?”
The reaction she was tempted to share with him would have brought the house down, she thought, aware that any emotional display would undermine his belief that she was the right person for the task. “I thought not caring was a job qualification.” She managed to keep the shakiness out of her voice by a superhuman effort.
His eyes narrowed. “Indeed. I realize I’m asking a lot, Zoe. There are no words for how much I appreciate the sacrifice you’ll be making for Genevieve.”
But not for himself, she noticed bleakly, even now feeling the impact of the man on every sense she possessed. It set up a throbbing resonance deep inside her, a chorus of needs and demands she would have to subdue before she joined him at the altar, if she was to have any hope of surviving emotionally undamaged.
He came closer. “No regrets? No second thoughts?”
All of those and more, she thought, her mind in turmoil. Somehow she managed to meet his eyes unflinchingly. “Have you?”
“Plenty,” he growled as his searching gaze roved over her. He was so alive, so powerful that it was hard to believe he could be facing death on anything but his own terms. “For a long time after Ruth disappeared, I told myself I would never marry again.”
If things were different, his vow would stand, she was sure. “I felt the same after Andrew died,” she admitted. Unlike James, her certainty had begun to erode, possibly from the moment she met him, although she wasn’t about to admit it.
“There’s been no man who could change your mind since then?”
“Actually there has,” she said, gaining a tiny measure of satisfaction from the tightening of the small lines around his mouth. He might be marrying her under duress, but he wasn’t entirely indifferent to her, either. She was woman enough to feel her spirits lift. “I believe he just did.”
Chapter Nine
Finding yourself aboard a runaway train must feel like this, Zoe decided. She knew why James couldn’t afford any delay, but the prospect of becoming his wife in a matter of days filled her with apprehension.
Telling herself it was for Genie’s sake didn’t help. No matter how brief the marriage, Zoe would be bound to James in the most intimate of unions and their lives would be linked forever afterward. In the eyes of the world she would be his wife. His ex-wife, if he survived the operation.
His widow, if something went wrong. She choked off the possibility as tension seized her. No matter what the consequences to her, she refused to contemplate such an outcome. James would live. He was a survivor.
“I’ve made provisions for the wedding to take place at two o’clock on Friday,” James said, startling her out of her reverie. She hadn’t heard him come out to the terrace where she watched from a discreet distance as Grace gave Genie another riding lesson.
She kept her tone light to quell the nervousness that threatened to swamp all rational thought. “Is it enough time to make the necessary arrangements?”
“It’s all the time we have.”
All the time he had, she amended silently, the reminder slamming into her with numbing force. How could she agonize over her own problems when James’s very life hung in the balance? She lifted her chin. If he could face this with such courage, she would do her part with equal grace. “I’ll be ready.”
He nodded, his eyes gleaming as if she had surprised him. “Good. I’ve started the formalities already. A local magistrate and longtime family friend has agreed to perform the ceremony. Is there anyone you want me to invite?”
“Only my friend Julie and her son, Simon, my neighbors from Sydney,” she said. Asking other friends or her co-workers from the property consultancy would involve her in too many explanations she didn’t feel up to giving.
“What about your mother? She lives in Wollongong, doesn’t she?”
Of course, his investigators would have told him about Zoe’s mother, too. Instead of rankling, the reminder felt like a relief, although Zoe wondered when she had stopped minding that James knew so much about her. “My mother and I haven’t spoken in years, since the time I tried to tell her about my problems with Andrew. She told me I’d made my bed and would have to lie on it.”
James set his teeth as if he had his own opinion of such behavior, but all he said was, “Charming.”
She recalled the disparaging way he’d spoken about his own family. “What about your relatives?”
“My only sister, Patrice, lives in New Mexico. My father died of a heart condition many years ago. When my mother remarried, she acquired a menagerie of steprelatives whose main interest is in my money. Unfortunately they have no interest in earning any of their own.”
If his steprelatives were a group of fortune hunters, it was no wonder James was so anxious to protect Genie’s inheritance. The grim reminder of the reason for this discussion sent a shudder through Zoe.
James’s penetrating look swept over her. “What is it?”
Since his proposal left no room for regrets on her own account, she grasped at another concern, one of the oldest known to womankind. “I don’t have anything suitable to wear. I’ll need to borrow the car and go shopping in town. Grace can probably tell me the best place to buy clothes.”
“The local stores are fine for most things, but I hardly think they can conjure up a wedding dress in under a week,” he observed.
She gave a deep sigh, barely conscious of how much longing she put into the soft sound. “I don’t suppose it matters for our purposes.”
“It matters to me. Come.”
Puzzled, she followed him to a study off the living room where he motioned her to a chair while he punched up a number on the phone. After a short discussion he handed the phone to her. “Aloys Gada wants to talk to you.”
Her jaw dropped. “The designer, Aloys Gada?”
“In the flesh, or the voice,” came the amused comment down the line. “My friend James tells me you need a wedding dress in a hurry.”
“But I can’t afford—”
“He says it’s his wedding present to you,” Gada short-circuited her objections. “I believe I’m to dress a little girl as well.”
The reason for James’s generosity became clear. He wanted Genie to have the best of everything, including a stepmother whose appearance wouldn’t provoke awkward questions. She decided to cooperate for Genie’s sake, but it was hard to suppress a wave of excitement. Andrew hadn’t cared for what he called “the trappings” so she had worn a simple cream suit for their registry-office wedding, followed by dinner at a restaurant. As a result, she had never really felt like a bride. It was ironic that this time she would look the part, when everything else would be a sham.
As they discussed dress styles and fabrics, Gada’s enthusiasm took wing. When Zoe gave him Genie’s measurements then her own, the designer chuckled appreciatively. “No wonder James can’t wait to marry you. With those proportions, you’re a dream to dress, my dear.”
“But how will you—”
“James is sending a helicopter for me tomorrow afternoon. I’ll bring a selection of gowns adjusted to fit so you can make your choice.”
Gada was as good as his word. Next morning he arrived at White Stars with enough gowns to dress several weddings. James made himself scarce in token acceptance of custom, Zoe noted. It seemed strange, taking so much trouble over a wedding that was designed to self-destruct from the beginning. It was the only thought marring the preparations.
When Zoe broke the news to Genie, the little girl was beside herself with excitement. “Will you be Mrs. Boss?”
Zoe’s laughter disguised the anguish provoked by the question. “No, sweetheart, I’ll be Mrs. Langford.”
“But James will be my really-truly daddy, won’t he?”
He already was, Zoe thought with another pang. He had decided not to tell Genie the truth until they knew the outcome of the operation. It came to Zoe that she would finally achieve her
heart’s desire. For a brief time, she would be Genie’s stepmother. The prospect gave her renewed strength for what lay ahead.
James had arranged everything with characteristic efficiency. On Friday morning his deputy, Brian Dengate, flew in by helicopter to be best man. Grace looked radiant as Zoe’s matron of honor. After the reception the helicopter would take the newlyweds to Sydney to spend the night at a luxury hotel overlooking Sydney Harbor.
All that remained was the ceremony that would make them husband and wife.
Few places provided as romantic a setting for a wedding as White Stars, she thought as she prepared to make her entrance into the formal living room. It was lavishly decorated for the occasion with the furniture artfully rearranged around a center aisle. A veritable florist’s shop of white roses filled the air with their seductive scent.
Restraining himself to an I-told-you-so look, Howard Leigh had gladly agreed to give her away and Zoe was grateful for the doctor’s supportive arm. The walk toward the waiting celebrant seemed endless as she considered the enormity of what she had agreed to.
Then she looked at James and all doubts fled as she saw the certainty and purpose emanating from him like an aura. In his eyes she encountered something else, which awed her—an appreciation that made her feel like the most beautiful woman in the world.
She had never thought of herself as beautiful, and her parents hadn’t encouraged such vanities. Her mother had even suggested she was lucky Andrew had married her, actually saying that few other men would have looked twice.
Now, seeing the soft glow of James’s admiration, she knew her mother was wrong. James seemed unable to take his eyes off her as she moved slowly, gracefully toward him.
From the Gada collection she had chosen an ivory Thai silk jacket trimmed with seed pearls, worn over a dramatic sunray-pleated georgette skirt. Cream hosiery and silk-covered pumps completed the outfit.
Flower petals fluttered at her feet and she looked down to see Genie conscientiously strewing the bridal path with flowers from a tiny ribboned basket. The child looked enchanting in a pumpkin silk dress with puffed sleeves and satin sash, a garland of antique silk flowers in her hair. Only Zoe knew the persuasion it had taken to get Genie into the dress instead of her beloved riding clothes.
The smile that tilted the corners of her mouth at this thought brightened even more as she lifted her gaze back to James. He looked magnificent in a charcoal suit, white shirt and silk tie, the rich fabrics emphasizing his height and powerful build. A man to be reckoned with, she thought.
Her remaining apprehension was swept away by the sense of rightness that infused her as she took her place at his side. Later would be soon enough to examine her reasons, but for now she couldn’t bring herself to regret what she was about to do.
“Do you, Zoe Elizabeth Holden, take James Matthew Langford…”
“I do.” Astonishing how easily the words fell from her lips.
“Do you James Matthew Langford take Zoe Elizabeth Holden…”
“I do.” His quiet assurance made her heart skip a beat.
Then it was done. She and James were married.
For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer. She was thankful he hadn’t allowed the celebrant to include the traditional, “till death do us part” because it was all too possible that it could.
Knowing what he faced lent an urgency to her response when, at the celebrant’s invitation, James bent to kiss the bride. As his mouth found hers she was swept away on a dizzying sense of being absorbed by him, taken into his very being, as if by marrying him, she had entered into a union more of the spirit than the flesh.
Her eyes closed as she struggled to deal with the flash flood of emotions raging through her, making it all but impossible to pull her thoughts into order. It was only a kiss for appearances’ sake, yet it touched her heart and mind even as it imprinted her body.
Only one coherent thought remained: What had she done?
She was brought back to earth with a resounding crash as James released her and led her to a side table where the marriage certificate awaited their signature. Beside the document lay another one, several pages of fine print and to her dazed glance, a tangle of legalese.
“What is this?”
He brought his head closer so his words were for her alone. “Our agreement. I tried to have it simplified, but you know what lawyers are like. Basically it puts into black-and-white what we have already agreed, that we remain married for one month after my operation, after which, if I survive, we go our separate ways. In that event, it spells out the access you will have to Genevieve and the settlement you will receive in return for your help. You’ll find it more than generous.”
She went cold all over. From the transcendent wonder of his kiss to harsh reality, the transition was almost too much to absorb. She resisted an insane urge to hurl her wedding bouquet into his face and tell him she’d changed her mind. She couldn’t go through with this after all. But it was already too late, they were legally married.
Somehow she got through the rest of the afternoon, giving the expected responses to the good wishes they were offered. The staff at White Stars had excelled themselves, providing a wedding buffet fit for royalty, but Zoe had no appetite for the food, however delicious. Signing the documents had brought the reality of the situation home to her much too forcibly.
Still it was an effort to tear her eyes away from the commanding figure moving so easily among the guests. It was hard to believe there was anything the matter with him, if you didn’t count the strain that Zoe thought she saw settle around him like a cloud every time he thought he was unobserved.
Even then he presented a picture of rugged individualism. He was half a head taller than most of the men in the room but made no concessions to it, never stooping or rounding those impressive shoulders. He ate little and drank even less, Zoe noted, but socialized with his guests as if he had not a care in the world, far less a life-and-death struggle ahead of him. He was so incredibly virile that Zoe felt her throat dry every time she looked at the man she had just married.
“Relax, he won’t disappear if you take your eyes off him,” Julie said, sneaking up behind her.
Zoe summoned a tense smile. It was great to see Julie and her little boy again, even under these circumstances. “Still the incurable romantic, Julie?”
Her neighbor gave a deep sigh. “You’d think I’d learn, wouldn’t you? I wonder if I’ll ever find a man to love me the way James loves you. It’s so obvious that I’m green with envy. You denied it, but I knew you two had something going the day you showed him that house at Strathfield.”
Zoe wondered what Julie would make of the real situation between Zoe and James. The intense looks that blazed across the room between them possibly could be mistaken for love, if you didn’t know that James was more concerned with Genie’s future, than with Zoe’s feelings. Still, it was hard to suppress the sense of yearning that gripped her whenever his vivid gaze locked with hers. If only they were looks of love. How different she would feel then.
Determinedly she shook off the half-formed desire. What was the point of wishing for the moon? Knowing she was doing this for Genie should be its own reward. Somehow the thought wasn’t as comforting as it should have been.
Zoe felt rather than saw James appear at her elbow. Some psychic sense alerted her to his present moments before he said, “It’s time for us to leave.”
It was too soon and not nearly soon enough. They had agreed to spend their wedding night in Sydney to avoid fueling gossip about the nature of their marriage. From there, James would check into the hospital for his operation. It was hardly an ideal honeymoon, but it made a convenient cover story.
James had assured her all the legal formalities were in place, both for her and Genie to reside at White Stars and for the corporation to continue if the worst happened. He had also briefed Brian Dengate. Grace and her husband already knew about the situation. There was no one else who needed to be
involved. It was all so matter-of-fact that Zoe wanted to scream. This was not some business deal. It was James’s life.
She tried to tell herself she would feel the same way about anyone facing such an ordeal, but the thought lacked conviction. Had she begun to care about him at some level, and not only as Genie’s father? No. She refused to allow herself to make such a stupid mistake.
By focusing her attention on getting ready to leave, she managed to subdue the troubling thought. Nevertheless, it simmered at the back of her mind as she exchanged her wedding dress for a rust-colored suit that she had chosen as her going-away outfit from the selection provided by Aloys Gada. James’s staff had already transferred her luggage to the company helicopter that was going to take them to Sydney.
Even though she was outwardly ready, inwardly was another matter she thought as she rejoined James. Genie held tightly to his hand on the short walk to the helicopter pad. Zoe had already assured the little girl that they would only be gone for a few days, and that Grace would take good care of her. As a result, Genie seemed less upset by the coming separation than Zoe herself.
“Grace says I can try riding Amira without the leading rein next week. Isn’t it great?” Genie enthused when Zoe bent down to hug her.
Zoe’s hold tightened. “It’s terrific, sweetheart. Just be careful for me, and be good for Grace.”
“I will.”
“Ready, Zoe?” Having said his own farewells, James strode toward the waiting helicopter. The rotor blades were already whipping up eddies of dust around the fringe of the landing pad.
Zoe felt torn. Grace was fond of Genie and having raised her own children, she was more than capable of taking care of her, but Zoe still had to steel herself to walk away. As Zoe took her seat beside James in the helicopter, he slid a hand into hers. “It isn’t easy, is it?”
She gave him a wordless shake of her head, her vision blurring. His hold didn’t slacken and she clung to him as they took off, watching the group on the ground until Genie was a white speck. Then she turned to James. “Was this how you felt when Ruth…” She couldn’t go on around the lump filling her throat.
