Bought Bride For The Argentinian (Conveniently Wed!)

by Sharon Kendrick

  ‘You bastard,’ she hissed, and suddenly it felt as if something had broken inside her. As if her determination to do the right thing and say the right thing had all crumbled away. What a dupe she had been, she thought disgustedly. Hadn’t she learnt the hard way that you could never rely on a man for your happiness? That her independent life and career was the only reliable path to contentment? There might not have been anyone since Alej—but neither had there been this tearing pain which made her heart feel as if it were splintering into a thousand tiny pieces. ‘I may have been guilty of telling lies, but not of cold-blooded emotional manipulation,’ she raged. ‘And at least I had youth on my side. What was your excuse? Because you know what? I actually feel sorry for you, Alej.’

  ‘Sorry for me?’ he questioned furiously. ‘This from the woman who married me purely for money?’

  ‘What other reason would I have for wanting to marry you when you’re so closed up and cold and don’t dare to ever trust anyone?’ she retorted. ‘You’re just stuck in some empty loop where all you can see is the negative. You can’t seem to shake off the past and appreciate what you have right now. Well, thank goodness I saw this side to you before I—’

  ‘Before you what, Emily?’

  She shook her head, aware that she had almost given herself away, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to feed his already massive ego by telling him she loved him. Because surely now her main goal must be to eradicate him from her mind, and from her life. ‘None of your damned business! You know what I suggest you do? That you go and find your blood brother. You find him and meet with him—because that’s something which might help you make sense of your past, since nothing else has worked. Oh, and you can keep these!’

  She twisted the yellow-diamond engagement ring and the matching studded wedding band from her finger and threw them on the table, where they landed with a clatter. ‘And in the meantime, I’d like a car to take me to the airport where I intend getting the first scheduled flight back to England. And don’t even think about putting me on your private jet, Alej—because there’s no way I’m setting foot on it.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  IT WAS THE dullest day Emily could remember, but then she’d been particularly sensitive to adverse weather conditions of late. When you spent a lot of your leisure time staring out of the window, you tended to notice things like spattering raindrops and fog so thick that it looked as if the world were permanently shrouded in a grey blanket. Maybe she should be grateful that the world wasn’t all bright and sunny. Imagine if the sun were shining and the sky bright blue—wouldn’t that only emphasise just how dark her world was and how broken her heart?

  She just missed him. So much. She hadn’t factored that in when she’d stormed from the Argentinian billionaire’s estancia, barely even gritting out a goodbye when the car had arrived to take her to the airport. And in the intervening weeks there had been nothing. No email, no phone call—not even a letter from his lawyer, announcing that he wanted a divorce. He probably wasn’t even going to bother asking for a divorce, she thought gloomily. He could get one automatically in a couple of years on grounds of desertion and, in the meantime, his marital status might stop other women from trying to rush him to the altar. Being an estranged husband would only add to his inestimable appeal.

  She kept repeating to herself that she would get over it sometime soon. And that surely his lies and manipulation were reasons enough to make her despise him? But somehow it didn’t seem to work like that. Instead, she found herself remembering the way he had kissed her and the things he had told her. Things he’d never confided to another soul. Didn’t that mean anything? No, it didn’t, she reminded herself sternly. It meant nothing at all. It was game-playing Alej at his best—the politician who never was! The man who’d done his best to whittle away at her defences and manipulate her emotions.

  Only her finances were giving her reasons to be cheerful—and on many different levels. She wondered if Alej had expected her to refuse the massive fee he’d paid to marry her—in which case, he was going to be disappointed! Ignoring Great-Aunt Jane’s protests, Emily was using most of the money to help secure her elderly relative’s new home in sheltered housing accommodation—and the peace of mind this gave them both was incalculable.

  And business was suddenly doing very well indeed. She and Marybeth had acquired a steady stream of new clients, which had meant they’d had to take on an extra member of staff—a hard-working young woman called Sophie, who fitted in immediately. It wouldn’t have taken a genius to work out that their new, super-cool reputation had come about as a result of mixing with a certain billionaire Argentinian. This naturally attracted lots of interest, yet somehow Emily’s polite but detached attitude managed to stop the most avid questioners in their tracks. So that when someone inevitably enquired where her husband was, she would reply, ‘He’s away on business at the moment,’ while daring anyone to ask more.

  And nobody did. At least, not until Emily walked into the office one morning and Marybeth looked up at her with narrowed eyes.

  ‘You haven’t worn your wedding ring since you got back.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Want to talk about it?’

  ‘Nope.’

  She didn’t want to be one of those women who rehashed the whole heartbreak of a broken relationship to her friend, thus forcing herself to relive it, over and over again. And she didn’t want Marybeth calling Alej names, because she was the only one who was allowed to do that. She had given it her best shot—that she had failed was down to the people they both were and the things which had happened to them. Her lies about wanting to sleep with other men had made him seek a primitive kind of revenge. Between them, they’d both helped destroy any possibility of a happy future together—even if Alej had shown any genuine signs of wanting one. Which he hadn’t, Emily reminded herself painfully. He had let her go and was probably supremely happy about it. Even worse—she swallowed, trying to get rid of the rawness which had risen in her throat—he might even be back on the circuit, seducing and allowing himself to be seduced by the most beautiful women the world had to offer. Women he would never really trust, because his trust had been breached and his attitude warped by the lies he’d been told by his mother and by Colette. And by her.

  But she knew she couldn’t sit around pining for him for the rest of her life. She had to get out there and start living—even if her heart was hurting. She had to. She wasn’t going to be like her mother, growing increasingly dependent on a bottle of tranquillisers to take the edge off a reality she didn’t like. She had loved and lost, but it happened. It was all part of life.

  ‘So what are you going to do now?’ Marybeth was saying.

  She looked at her friend rather sheepishly. ‘I’ve started riding again. I realised how much I’d missed it.’

  ‘You’re joking?’

  ‘Do I look like I’m joking? I can afford one lesson a week—I mean, it’s not like I’m the biggest consumer in the world. There are actually riding stables in Hyde Park, which aren’t as expensive as I thought.’

  ‘Good for you.’ Marybeth gave her a sly look. ‘And I guess that means you’ll get to wear those sexy new riding clothes you brought back from your honeymoon.’

  * * *

  The cold wind whipped around him and the rain was lashing so heavily that the short journey from limousine to apartment block meant Alej was as soaked as if he’d just been out sailing on rough seas. He scrolled down the list of names beside each corresponding doorbell until he came to the one which said Emily Green, and then jammed his thumb on the doorbell.

  The silence which ensued was so drawn-out that he began to wonder if she was out, despite the assurances of a member of his London office, who had reported back that she’d finally arrived home from work. He glanced at his watch. He supposed she could be asleep already—but at nine o’clock?

  And then he he
ard her voice through the intercom. Her soft and beautiful voice.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Emily. It’s me.’

  He supposed she didn’t have to ask who, since everyone told him his accent was distinctive, but he wasn’t anticipating the long silence which followed, before a strained voice asked a question so low that he had to dip his head forward in order to hear.

  ‘What do you want?’

  He wanted to feel her arms around him and his lips on hers, her soft body wrapping itself around him—that was what he wanted. But he wasn’t really in an ideal bargaining position to state his demands, and certainly not from out here. ‘It’s raining and it’s cold, Emily—’

  ‘I don’t need a meteorological report, thank you. If you don’t like it then go back to Argentina—I believe the weather’s more reliable there!’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere until I’ve spoken to you.’ He put his mouth close to the intercom. ‘Now, we can do this one of two ways. You can let me in by pressing the buzzer or I can use a rather more unconventional means to grant entry, and if that involves kicking this door down then that’s exactly what I’m going to do.’

  ‘You wouldn’t dare do that!’ He could hear the bravado in her voice.

  ‘You want to bet?’

  The buzzer sounded and he pushed on the door quickly before it locked him out again, stepping inside to be bathed by the harsh light of the fluorescent strips overhead. Ignoring the elevator, he took the stairs two at a time until he arrived at her front door to find it slightly ajar. Cautiously, he pushed his way inside before shutting it quietly and heading towards the room from which light was streaming onto the wooden floor in the hallway. She was standing in a small sitting room, her back to him, staring out at the diamond glitter of the city lights in the night sky. She must have heard him enter but she spoke without turning round.

  ‘Why are you here, Alej? What do you want?’

  ‘I want to see your face so that I can talk to you.’

  ‘Tough. You can talk to me this way.’

  ‘Emily, please.’ His voice dipped. ‘What are you trying to hide?’

  She turned around then and his pulse thrummed as he thought how different she seemed from the woman he’d said goodbye to just a few weeks earlier. Even in that short time her body seemed more honed and her cheekbones appeared sharpened as they cast shadows over her pale skin. And she’d had her hair cut. Not short, he registered, with grim relief, but the few inches which had been lopped off the flowing golden locks and the new, blunt-cut style made her look slightly aloof and very contemporary.

  ‘I’m not trying to hide anything, but I see no need for further communication with you, Alej,’ she said stiffly. ‘So say what it is you came to say and then leave me in peace to get on with the rest of my life.’

  Those last few words made him realise how much he had hurt her—more than he’d ever imagined. And, even more importantly, that he had no desire ever to do so again. But would she believe him if he told her that? Did he have any right to expect her to believe him after the things he had done? He walked across the room towards her. ‘Please don’t back away,’ he said.

  ‘I don’t want you near me.’

  ‘Okay.’ That hurt, but he took it because he suspected he deserved it, sucking a breath which felt hot and ragged. And suddenly all the words he’d been composing in his head on the flight over seemed to form themselves into just three. ‘I’m sorry, Emily.’

  Her eyes looked very dark and very bright. ‘Sorry for what? That you got found out? That Tomas rumbled you and let me in on your little secret sooner than you intended? Which makes me wonder just how long you were going to keep up the pretence of wanting to go into politics, Alej. Long enough for the thrill of having sex with me to wear off, I suppose?’

  ‘In theory, yes—’

  ‘You absolute b—’

  ‘But in practice that day was never going to come around because I could never tire of you, Emily.’ His fervent words cut through her fury. ‘How could I, when I love you?’

  She shook her head so that her hair swung in a pale and silky arc around her shoulders. ‘Don’t you dare come out with things you don’t mean!’ she said fiercely.

  ‘You really think I would lie about something like that?’ he questioned. ‘When I’ve always loved you—even though I’ve spent a long time trying to deny it to myself. It’s why your lies hurt me more than any of the others. Fabrications came to my mother as easily as breathing, which wasn’t really surprising, given her history. And Colette’s lies meant nothing, not really. My relationship with her was never intended to be anything other than a no-strings affair. She was the one who wanted more. Who was prepared to write that vicious book about me when I wouldn’t—or couldn’t—give her what she wanted.’ He took another step towards her and this time she didn’t stop him. ‘Can we start over?’ he said simply. ‘Will you be my wife in every sense of the word, Emily? Will you let me love you and cherish you, for as long as we both shall live?’

  Emily looked into his bright green eyes and felt a quiver of hope begin to shimmer over her skin, but still she was wary because she was scared. Scared of what would happen if she let herself believe that what he said was real. Scared of hurt and scared of pain. ‘What made you come here today?’

  Briefly, he closed his eyes and sighed as he opened them again. ‘You forgot your necklace.’

  She blinked. ‘My necklace?’

  He dug into his pocket and withdrew a battered box Emily instantly recognised, just as she did the fine gold chain and tiny pearl which lay inside—the necklace which had belonged to her mother.

  ‘I rang up the office to speak to you and Marybeth told me you were helping your great-aunt move,’ he continued. ‘I remember you telling me that she didn’t have a lot of money and so I put two and two together and guessed you’d used the payment I made when you married me.’

  ‘And you were surprised I hadn’t used it for my own greedy gain?’ she said sarcastically.

  ‘Hardly.’ His lips curved into a sardonic smile. ‘The contemptuous way you slung your wedding and engagement rings across the table was pretty indicative that you aren’t one of the world’s gold-diggers, no matter how much I initially wanted you to be. But the real reason I rang was that you’d changed your phone number and I wanted to talk to you and tell you how much I missed you. Wrong tense,’ he corrected acidly. ‘Miss you. Every second, every hour and every day. And I want to know whether we can try again. Whether you can forgive me for what I did and give us another chance.’

  Emily saw the conviction which was blazing from his green eyes and could feel her heart racing as she hovered on the knife-edge of uncertainty. She knew what would be the safest option. To send him on his way, because love inevitably brought with it the potential for pain and if she stayed single she would be spared that. Oh, she might get bored or lonely—but she wouldn’t be leaving herself open to the possibility of feeling as if someone had ripped her heart right out of her chest with jagged fingernails.

  But that was a decision she was never going to make. It was a no-brainer, really. She loved him. Totally. She always had and always would. ‘Of course I can,’ she whispered shakily.

  His quizzical green gaze met hers. ‘Why?’

  It was a seminal moment and Emily realised that she held the balance of power as she looked into his beloved face, which for once held a trace of insecurity, but the thought was lost the moment she went into his waiting arms because weren’t they equals?

  ‘Because I love you too, Alej. My darling, darling Alej,’ she whispered. ‘You are my man—you always were and you always will be. The only man for me.’ She hesitated. ‘And you aren’t the only one to have made mistakes. I was wrong to let my mother and my stepfather pressure me into giving you up and it’s something I’ve regretted ever since because—’

  But he s
ilenced her with his kiss and as the kiss deepened, the hurt and the pain began to dissolve. She was shaking with emotion and desire as he drew his head away, his hand skating slowly down the side of her face. ‘Do you think you might like to show me where you sleep?’ he questioned unsteadily.

  ‘I think I might,’ she answered, almost shyly.

  It was much later, when they were lying in her rather cramped bed, wrapped in each other’s arms, that she traced her finger over the outline of his lips. ‘What about your brother, Alej? Did you find him? Did you even try?’

  ‘Yes, I tried,’ he said, turning his face towards hers. ‘I’ve had a team of investigators working on it and every avenue they’ve explored, they’ve come up with a blank. But we will find him, Emily. Of that I am certain.’ His voice grew husky. ‘But now, can we talk of other things? Because I have something I need to do.’

  Emily blinked as he got out of bed and fished around in the pocket of his jacket and pulled out another leather box—this one much less battered than the one which had belonged to her mother. And then he was getting down on one knee and prising open the lid and there, sitting on a bed of dark velvet, reposed a huge sapphire, surrounded by a glittering oval of diamonds. It was as if he had captured the dark ocean and poured it into the sparkling gem which almost blinded her.

  ‘What’s this?’ she breathed.

  ‘Your engagement ring.’

  ‘But I’ve already got one. The yellow diamond?’

  ‘Which I told you to choose from the internet,’ he agreed darkly, as he slid the ring onto her trembling finger. ‘Bad karma. So I picked this ring myself—mainly because the sapphire matches your beautiful eyes and because the diamonds are as bright as your spirit.’

  It sat snugly on her finger but Emily paid it little heed for her attention was drawn by the far more beautiful image of the man who was kneeling before her. ‘Oh, Alej,’ she breathed, tugging at his shoulders to drag him back into bed, so that she could put her arms tightly around his neck and hug him. ‘I love it, but not nearly as much as I love you—and if you don’t kiss me very quickly I think I’m going to explode!’