For Love or Money Bundle (Harlequin Presents)

by Sarah Morgan

  So she’d ploughed the rest into the programme she’d sold to the local prison authorities—and once she’d convinced them she was serious they’d matched her contribution dollar for dollar. Now they had the most sophisticated state-of-the art laser equipment and a constant line of hopeful kids wanting to have their tattoos removed, wanting a decent chance at life.

  She was working harder and longer than she’d ever worked before, and for a stipend that barely kept Maxwell in cat food, but it was worth it. She didn’t want for anything.

  Except sometimes…

  She snatched up her glass of wine and took a sip, flicking impatiently through the magazine she’d brought out, searching for anything that would grab her interest and dampen down her line of thought.

  She didn’t want to think about Loukas. Not now—not when she’d left that world behind, when she’d turned her back on him and walked away.

  Because thinking about Loukas would get her nowhere. Wondering what might have happened if she’d agreed to stay was pointless.

  So why didn’t her dreams appreciate that? Why did scenes of Loukas’s lovemaking keep playing over and over in her head, haunting her? Because it was so real in her dreams, so real…Only then she’d wake up to twisted sheets and the agony of knowing she’d been cheated again. Because it wasn’t real.

  It had never been real.

  So why couldn’t she simply forget him?

  But the answer to that question was the cruellest blow of all. Because more than three months spent straightening out her head, trying to get a grip on her battered emotions, sorting out in her mind what was true and what was fake, what she wanted out of life and what she believed in, had only cemented in her mind one fact.

  She loved him.

  It made no sense. It made bad sense. She didn’t even understand why. The knowledge was simply there, deep inside, like a flame that wouldn’t go out—a flame that wouldn’t be extinguished.

  And the fact that it was wasted love, pointless, unnecessary and painful love, that taunted her in her weakest moments, that exploited her darkest hours, was no defence. It made no difference to how she felt. She loved him regardless.

  ‘Damn him!’ she said, picking up her magazine and wine glass. The cat raised his head and yawned, stretching out his front legs.

  ‘Come on, Maxwell,’ she said, holding the door open for him to follow her inside. ‘Bedtime.’

  ‘Dr Ferraro, you have a visitor.’

  ‘Thanks, Cathy,’ Jade said to the young administrative assistant, holding down the intercom button. She’d promised the prison board a report on the first few months’ operations, and she’d been told someone would be sent to collect it. ‘I’m just finishing up. Tell them I’ll be right out.’

  Jade completed typing up the last of the report and cleared her desk while it was printing out. She glanced down at her watch and grimaced. Maxwell would complain again, but it was Friday evening and they could spend plenty of quality time together this weekend.

  She quickly scanned the report and signed it, before slipping the original into a large envelope. Her purse slung over her shoulder, she headed out.

  ‘Sorry to keep you,’ she tossed in the direction of the man looking down over the coffee table, his back to her. ‘The report is ready…’

  Her heart gave a lurch, the words dying on her tongue.

  No!

  It couldn’t be.

  Then he turned, and her world shook and changed direction. She blinked.

  ‘Loukas?’

  She realised she was still holding out the envelope, her arm suspended between them. Stiffly, mechanically, she forced it down to her side.

  ‘What are you doing here?’

  Something passed through his eyes, too brief for her to get a handle on, and his lips curved up into something approximating a smile. ‘I came to find you.’

  Cathy made a sound next to her, dragging her attention away from Loukas to the young woman alongside her. ‘Um, is it okay if I leave now? Or would you like me to stay a bit longer?’

  ‘Of course,’ Jade said. ‘You go. I’ll be fine.’

  Cathy looked at Loukas, her eyes narrowing a fraction in suspicion and curiosity, as if summing up this stranger with the sexy American accent, before looking back to Jade and nodding. ‘If you’re sure, then.’ She took the envelope from Jade’s death-like grip. ‘I’ll take care of this for you, too. Goodnight.’

  The door closed behind the teenager and suddenly it was too still, too close, the office suddenly too small now that Loukas’s presence devoured the space. Only the sound of blood rushing in her ears, thumping through her veins, invaded the silence.

  ‘How did you find me?’ she asked.

  She hadn’t wanted to be found. Her body language, her nervous tension—she wasn’t happy he was here. He buried a sudden kick of disappointment.

  Maybe she hadn’t had enough time.

  Then again, maybe she’d had too much.

  Or maybe he’d just got it wrong.

  He seemed to make a habit of doing that where this woman was concerned. He hadn’t expected to find her hiding out in a place like this, that was for sure. With its shabby redbrick exterior, shoved up against the boundary of Sydney Central Jail, it was the antithesis of everything the Della-Bosca Clinic had been. Tired vinyl chairs instead of Italianate leather sofas, flaking paintwork rather than original artwork, and barbed wire fences in place of palm trees.

  And yet Jade herself looked vibrant, and so alive—despite her expression being guarded, wary.

  ‘You weren’t that hard to find.’ Especially not when he’d been Googling her name almost every other day. Only for curiosity’s sake, he’d told himself. Except since he’d discovered her new position in Sydney he’d been battling with himself to find a reason to stay away. Until he’d run out of excuses and the will to do that.

  He glanced around the basic walls of the office. ‘This place must be a bit of a come-down after Beverly Hills.’

  Her chin kicked up a notch. ‘Still judging everything by its appearance, I see.’

  He nodded, unable to resist the urge to smile even while he was cursing himself for his mistake. But hell, he’d missed her arguing, and it was so good to see she hadn’t changed that much.

  ‘Touché,’ he conceded. ‘You’re right. I hear you’re doing good work here.’

  Her head tilted to one side. ‘I’m happy.’

  He looked at her. Really looked at her this time. Beyond her overall look of well-being there were traces of shadow under her eyes, a hint of greyness marring the blue.

  ‘Are you?’ he said. ‘Are you really happy?’

  She drew in a ragged breath, her hands slapping against her trousers nervously.

  ‘The police told me it would be months before Grace’s prosecution went ahead. So what do you want?’ she asked, her voice uneven. ‘Why are you here?’

  ‘We need to talk,’ he said. ‘Can I take you to dinner?’

  She glanced down at her watch, running her top teeth over her bottom lip in a way that had him suddenly focusing on her lips, unsullied by make-up but for the slightest remnant of gloss.

  It was a long time since he’d tasted their sweetness. It was a long time since he’d experienced their moist heat against his. He dragged in a breath. He was more than ready to experience those simple pleasures again.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I really have to get home. Maxwell is waiting for me. He’ll get upset if I’m home too late.’

  Something flickered in his jaw, and one eyebrow arched as his countenance turned darker.

  He knew it!

  He’d waited too long!

  She’d found someone else to console herself with. Someone else to replace him. Someone else who would feel her legs wrapped tight around him, accepting him, bucking under him.

  A bitter taste assailed him—the bitter taste of defeat snatched from the jaws of victory.

  ‘You’re living with someone?’


  His bold accusation took her by surprise. Was that jealousy she saw in his face? Or simply inconvenience? The latter was much more likely. But how appealing a prospect anyway.

  ‘You should have let me know you were coming. Did you think I could drop everything at such short notice?’

  She could almost see him grinding his teeth together.

  ‘Then Maxwell can come too,’ he said. ‘I’m sure we can find a table for three somewhere in Sydney.’

  She smiled then, almost sorry for the aggravation she was causing him. Almost.

  ‘There’s no need. Maxwell will be perfectly happy so long as I get home and dish up his favourite food.’ Her smile grew wider as Loukas’s scowl deepened. ‘Maxwell is a cat, Loukas. What on earth were you thinking?’

  ‘How is your sister now?’

  They were sitting out on her small terrace, Maxwell curled up warily on one chair, surveying Loukas with a contemptuous eye.

  The two of them had grabbed a bowl of pasta at the local trattoria and come back for coffee, both of them seemingly uncomfortable with discussing whatever it was that they needed to discuss in the company of others.

  ‘She’s well,’ he said. ‘Although Kurt didn’t hang around for long once she made it clear she was staying at the house.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said, not entirely surprised. ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

  He shrugged. ‘It was hardly unexpected. The good news is that she’s had time to talk to Con—Dad. He’s finally realised that she’s an adult, with her own life to lead. All this time she’s been bucking against his control and going about it the wrong way, but now that he’s acknowledged that she doesn’t belong to him their relationship is really changing. I think they have a chance to work things out between them now.’

  ‘And what about your father’s run for the White House?’

  ‘Didn’t you know? He pulled out of the race.’

  ‘He what?’

  ‘I know. Nobody expected it. But he made the decision suddenly, a few weeks after Olympia came home. He’s going to take a cruise next year with Stella—my stepmother. A long one.’

  ‘You never told me what happened to your mother.’

  ‘Didn’t I?’ He looked out over the view—at everything, at nothing. ‘She died when I was four. A brain aneurism. I don’t remember much of her.’

  She shivered. ‘I know how that feels.’

  ‘I know,’ he said, his eyes on hers, steady, compassionate. ‘Anyhow, as a teenager I didn’t take too well to having Stella around when my father remarried. And I know I always resented having a kid sister.’

  ‘How’s that going now? Is Pia talking to you yet?’

  He smiled. ‘Now that Kurt’s out of the scene, more than she was before.’

  ‘I still don’t understand why you couldn’t tell her why you were so opposed to cosmetic surgery. Didn’t she know about Zoë?’

  His lips tightened and added a question mark to his frown. ‘She did and she didn’t. She was barely fourteen when Zoë died. Naturally we tried to protect her from what was happening as much as we could. And when she got to the stage of wanting surgery for herself it was part of her alliance with Kurt and part of her rebellion against her family, because she knew how much we disapproved. But I don’t think she ever appreciated why—until what almost happened to her.’

  Jade dropped her eyes to the ground. If she’d thought Loukas’s sister would be a safe topic of conversation, she’d all too quickly been proved wrong.

  ‘I’m so sorry about what happened,’ she offered. ‘But I’m glad she’s okay now.’

  ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Olympia told me what you said.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘She told me that you tried to talk her out of having the surgery. She said that Della-Bosca overruled you and booked her in regardless.’

  Jade nodded. So finally he believed her.

  ‘Is that what you came all this way to tell me?’

  ‘Partly,’ he acknowledged.

  ‘Only partly?’ she whispered. ‘There’s something else you want to tell me?’

  He pushed himself away from the balustrade and hunkered down in front of her. ‘There is, as it happens,’ he said, before collecting both of her hands together, cocooning them within his own.

  ‘Jade,’ he said, his voice low and rich, ‘I need to know. Will you marry me?’

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  IT FELT good saying it. Better than good. He hadn’t planned on blurting it out like that—in fact he hadn’t been entirely sure what he was intending to say—but now that he’d uttered those four simple words it felt surprisingly right.

  It was almost as if all the issues and problems he’d been wrestling with for months, jagging into his thoughts on the long flight over, had neatly sorted themselves out and filed themselves away. At last his mind seemed clear, his purpose defined.

  ‘Marry me, Jade,’ he repeated, more boldly this time, getting used to the feel of the words in his mouth and liking the way they tasted.

  Her eyes were wide and almost luminescent, their clear blue light searching his own eyes. ‘I…I’m not sure I understand.’

  He shook his head and squeezed her hands. ‘I know I have no right to ask, not after all I’ve put you through.’

  ‘You’re not the only one who was at fault. We both made some bad judgement calls. But I live in Sydney now, and I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself here. You don’t need to feel responsible for me any more.’

  ‘Is that what you think? That I’m trying to make up for what’s happened?’

  She took a deep breath and pulled her hands away, pushing herself up from her chair and stepping around him. At the end of the small terrace she turned and gazed down at him, her hands clenched in front of her.

  ‘Well, aren’t you? You feel badly about what happened between us and you feel you should do something to compensate. But I’m not sure why you’ve decided marriage is the answer.’

  Breath rushed out between his teeth and he twisted up to stand facing her. He held one hand palm up between them. ‘I’m not doing this out of duty, Jade. I’m doing this because I want to be with you. I wanted you the first night I saw you and I’ve wanted you ever since. I haven’t thought about anything in the last few months beyond how I could get you back.’

  ‘You wanted me? I don’t believe you. You wanted to avenge Zoë’s death. You wanted to save your sister from the same fate and you wanted to pull Grace down. I never figured in the equation except as a conduit to achieving those goals.’

  ‘Then believe it. That first night at the ball I did want you. I came to meet you, I admit, but I never had plans to make love to you until that night—until I’d seen you and I knew in an instant that I had to have you. I’m not proud of the way I handled it, or what I did, but I knew I wanted you so very much. And I knew that there was something between us even then. Because I saw the way you reacted. I know you felt it too.’

  She frowned, her arms crossed over her chest. ‘But you used me. You went to bed with me simply to get to Grace. You used me as a way to get to her.’

  He rubbed his forehead with his hand. ‘I know. That’s what I had planned. I thought I could seduce my way into getting your co-operation, and expected to be able to walk away afterwards.’

  ‘Which is exactly what you did.’

  ‘No, I blew it completely. I thought that if I got close to you and seduced you you’d tell me everything I needed to know. But after three nights with you I was angrier than ever. I’d planned to sweet-talk the information out of you after we’d made love—when you were most accommodating, when you would least expect it—’

  Her eyes flashed blue fire up at him. He felt her pain at his betrayal and her anger that he’d brought it all back.

  ‘I told you I’m not proud of what I did. But I couldn’t go through with it. Like I said, after three nights I couldn’t bear the thought that you were like her, that you might be turning into another D
ella-Bosca.’

  ‘But I wasn’t!’

  His eyes held hers. ‘I know that now. But back then I was going crazy. I’d heard Olympia was back in the country, and word was she was about to have surgery. Which meant I’d run out of time with you.’ He sighed and ran one hand through his hair. ‘But I wasn’t ready to give you up.’

  ‘You mean you hadn’t got the evidence you wanted.’

  ‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘That was what I convinced myself of, certainly. But what was more important was that I didn’t want to lose you. I was angry with Olympia because she was coming back too soon, so that my time with you was limited.

  ‘And I was angry with you,’ he continued, ‘because after spending time with you I wanted so much for you to be different from the person I feared you were. So instead of treading softly-softly, instead of taking things as slowly as I could with what time I had left, instead of gently eking out any details I could before you realised what I was about, I blew it. And then, of course, the more you defended Della-Bosca, the angrier I became.’

  She thought back, her mind returning to that night he’d collected her after work and driven them to the beach house, his mood volatile, his eyes dark and hostile. And yet they’d enjoyed their most tender lovemaking yet. Only for the magic to descend into that sudden outburst—his demands to know what was going on with his sister, his seemingly mad accusations against Grace.

  That night had signalled the end for them. He’d used her and deceived her and shredded her feelings in the process.

  ‘It doesn’t make sense. You were never going to have much time. And yet you had three nights, and you never once asked about Grace or the clinic. I had no idea what you had in mind. Why did you wait so long if you were so desperate to save your sister?’

  ‘Because I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I didn’t want to risk making you suspicious. I wanted you just the way you were.’

  She turned towards the harbour view and she laughed, low and bitter, into the balmy night air. ‘You mean naïve, gullible, and easy to be taken for a fool.’