Husband by Arrangement

by Sara Wood

  ‘Determined little minx, aren’t you?’ he murmured with a half-smile, but his eyes were veiled with steely lights.

  Maddy suppressed a shudder of apprehension. But she’d got herself off the hook.

  ‘Hungry, actually. I’m ready for my chips,’ she announced brightly, wondering how on earth she could force a morsel down her. ‘They’ve been keeping them hot for me, I think.’

  ‘Put me on the back burner if you want,’ he drawled as he walked her back to her chair. ‘But since you lit me up, I reckon it’s up to you to damp down my flames.’

  ‘I suggest a swim if you’re hot,’ she said, without really thinking.

  His salacious grin had her stomach swooping with peculiar twinges. ‘What a good idea,’ he murmured. ‘Meet you by the pool at midnight.’

  Appalled, she gave a little nod. And decided to publicise their tryst to foil him. Sofia would join them if she thought any hanky-panky was on the menu.

  ‘We’re going for a midnight swim,’ she announced chirpily to everyone at the table. ‘Anyone else coming?’

  Sofia put down her fork with a clatter. ‘Dexter,’ she said sharply, ‘you need your sleep. I expressly forbid you to stay up late. The Quinta is more important than anything—’

  ‘Even an heir?’ he enquired mildly.

  The old lady drew herself up with regal hauteur but her lip was quivering. Dexter immediately strode to the end of the table and put an arm around his grandmother’s shoulders, speaking quietly to her.

  After a while he kissed the relieved-looking Sofia on the forehead, bowed to the company and, to Maddy’s astonishment, he quietly excused himself.

  After that, Maddy felt gloom settle on her. Sofia seemed oddly relaxed, and had begun to loosen up with her friends. Now that Dex had gone the tension had gone too, but so had the adrenaline buzz that his presence had aroused in her.

  With nothing better to do, she ate her meal, ignored by the guests, and declined the pudding. Pleading tiredness, she trudged wearily up to her room and rang her grandfather, reporting quite honestly that things had gone well.

  She had decided that she would let him down gently, tell him face to face that the marriage bid had been unsuccessful.

  Feeling very flat, she got ready for bed, thinking that Dexter wasn’t going to be easy to manage at all. His response to her flirting had been totally unexpected. So had her own reaction to him.

  Somehow she had to continue to be the most unsuitable bride this side of Frankenstein’s laboratory. She had to act as if she was desperate to get married, whilst keeping the over-eager Dexter at bay.

  The situation was complicated by the fact that he was devastatingly sexy. As a consequence, she found herself wanting him—even though she knew perfectly well that he was only interested in her body and didn’t care about her at all.

  The change in him was amazing. Who would have thought he’d become such a cynical, lecherous Casanova?

  Brushing her hair in front of the mirror, she stared at her plain, unadorned face and wished she didn’t have to act the trollop any more.

  Though…she would never go back to being a doormat again. Not now she’d tasted independence. The new Maddy was OTT, but some things she’d done had been fun, and the characterisation had changed her forever.

  The things the new Maddy said had come from somewhere inside her. She had more power to think for herself than she’d realised.

  When she returned home, she mused, amazed by the unusual sparkle in her eyes and the animation of her features, she’d strike a happy medium.

  Not too selfish, not too self-effacing.

  ‘Dexter,’ she said happily, ‘you’ve done me a favour. I can be gorgeous. I can have a personality.’

  She hugged herself with glee and scrambled into bed. An entirely new Maddy would be born: one she liked, one she could respect. And, as a result, she felt in her bones that she’d find peace of mind and happiness at last.

  He was waiting for her in the foyer the next morning, dressed in truck-driver mode. The black T-shirt was clean and figure-hugging, the jeans freshly laundered too. And just looking at him made her knees go weak.

  Fortunately she’d dressed to kill. Or, rather, to give herself courage and to remind herself of the kind of person she was supposed to be. A woman of the world. Not a naïve idiot who melted every time a handsome man gazed at her.

  So, to go with her spiky pony-tail, which she’d encircled with streams of pink ribbons, Maddy had opted for pink wedge sandals, cut-off denim shorts embroidered with sequins and a luminous yellow top.

  The outfit had made the waiters smile at breakfast and the service at her table had been more than attentive.

  Dexter’s reaction was more visceral, his strangled intake of breath causing her heart to thump frantically with unwanted excitement.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, sounding more eager and breathy than she’d intended.

  ‘Hi,’ he drawled, in a slow, liquid tone that accompanied his equally slow and liquid trawl of her body.

  ‘I’m ready,’ she said into the silence, wondering why her lungs had collapsed without warning.

  ‘So was I, last night. I waited by the pool. You didn’t come,’ he accused, his eyes doing their best to strip her naked where she stood.

  She waited till the annoying quivers had died down before replying, by pretending to be bothered by the tangled tassels on her waist-cinching belt.

  ‘Let me.’

  And before she could stop him Dexter had stepped forwards, his fingers untwisting the tassels. Her stomach sucked in of its own accord as she tried to avoid the tantalising touch of his fingers.

  They were beautiful, she thought hazily. Long, slender, strong and neatly manicured. They also were intrusive, and she realised after a while that he was deliberately brushing her smooth skin and letting his fingers linger more than strictly necessary.

  Struggling for control, she grabbed his hands and pushed them away.

  ‘Hands off the goods! You deserved to be stood up after pretending to be a mere employee, instead of lovely, wealthy Dexter, heir to the Fitzgerald millions,’ she pouted.

  ‘You’re so frank,’ he said, his voice reverberating huskily. ‘Still, at least I know where I stand.’

  Maddy tried a gold-digging smirk.

  ‘You’ll get a lot for your money.’

  His admiring glance roamed freely over her body.

  ‘That’s true.’

  She frowned as he picked up her case and indicated that she should follow. How could she find him so incredibly attractive when she despised him?

  ‘You left rather abruptly last night,’ she remarked, unable to hide the disappointment.

  Her resentment appalled her. Despite all the dangers in the situation, she’d wanted him to dance with her all night and to flirt with her. It had been so boring when he’d gone.

  ‘I had to.’

  His hand attached itself to the small of her back, fitting perfectly in the gap between the hem of her cropped top and the swinging tassels of her belt. She found herself sinking into the warmth of that hand and suddenly repressed an urge to whirl around and press herself against him.

  She was shocked. Her behaviour was beginning to mimic that of the moral-free woman she was pretending to be!

  ‘You could have stayed. I thought you were your own man?’ she challenged a little shakily.

  ‘I am.’ The hand shifted downwards and she could feel her rear being massaged by it as she executed her Monroe wiggle. ‘But I knew I’d do something outrageous if I stayed around you any longer. Like…kissing you in the middle of the dance floor. Or running my hands over your body. My grandmother would have been shocked. So I made my excuses and left. Besides, I had a busy day ahead of me. This morning I’ve already put in a few hours of work, and once I’ve dropped you off I’ll have another eight hours of slaving away.’

  ‘You work hard for a rich man,’ she husked, desperately trying to stay in control. ‘I wouldn’t bother if I
had as much money as you.’

  Her breathing was definitely in trouble. Fortunately they’d reached his truck and they’d both stopped. Unfortunately Dexter had turned her to face him and she was beginning to panic.

  If he kissed her she’d have to stay cool. React with enjoyment, like a seasoned flirt. And not go all gooey. She wasn’t sure she could manage that.

  Would he kiss her? A finger was idly tracing her cheek. She dared not look up but kept her gaze fixed intently on his pecs. Which seemed to be heaving about rather a lot. She swallowed.

  ‘Work hard, play hard. I’d hoped to see you at the pool,’ he growled. ‘To be more private.’

  ‘I got bored and went to bed,’ she admitted.

  ‘That’s nice to know,’ he murmured, his forefinger lightly outlining her mouth. ‘But if you’d come as promised I would have relieved your…boredom.’

  Her stomach bucked. Any minute now and she’d take his finger in her teeth and slowly nibble it. Shaking, she fought for sanity.

  ‘Naughty!’ she trilled, managing to escape. ‘You know I’m unavailable until our wedding night. Incidentally, what did you say to your grandmother before you left?’ she asked curiously. ‘She stopped flinging filthy looks at me. I wondered why.’

  His eyes looked slightly mocking.

  ‘I reassured her.’

  ‘About me? That’s nice. How?’ she demanded, covering up her alarm.

  Her heart thudded. Sofia’s opposition was central to her plan! How could he have made a wacky bride-to-be from hell seem acceptable?

  He smiled. ‘I told her I’d fallen for you in a big way. And I pointed out that you had child-bearing hips.’

  Maddy felt a dagger spearing her chest and turned her reaction into a cough. The hips might be right, but her womb wasn’t, she thought miserably. Still she had to live with that and not feel sorry for herself. However hard that might be.

  ‘They’re not that big,’ she said tightly.

  His hand explored them. ‘No. Just rounded enough,’ he whispered intimately.

  ‘So…she was pleased with what she saw?’ she asked in private dismay.

  Dexter placed her case carefully in the truck and held out his hand to help her up, giving her a pat on the rear as she clambered in. He leaned his brawny arms on the seat where she’d settled herself, his pose confiding.

  The heat of his flesh spread into her naked thigh and it was all she could do not to move away in panic. Or kiss his upturned face. She stared at him, appalled by everything that was happening.

  ‘She’ll come round,’ he offered. ‘I’m all she has now. In the long run, she’ll go along with whatever I want.’ His voice became husky and he stroked her thigh idly. ‘And she knows I have designs on you.’

  ‘Oh!’ Maddy felt a spurt of dread. Or was it something else, caused by the hypnotic rhythm of Dexter’s wicked fingers? ‘She…she wasn’t alarmed by my appearance, or anything?’ she squeaked. ‘People sometimes are.’

  He considered this solemnly. ‘Surprised. You’re like nothing we’ve ever seen before,’ he admitted. ‘But when I spoke to her she realised that her opinion was unimportant. And we could always work on your clothes sense and table manners when we’re married,’ he added condescendingly. ‘I’m the one who’ll be climbing into bed with you, not her.’ His eyes kindled. ‘And that’s where the action’ll be, where my heir will be conceived.’

  Maddy couldn’t speak. She’d never provide anyone with a child. Why did he keep talking about it? Over and over again he kept stabbing her in the heart with the cruel reality.

  Seeing he was expecting some kind of response, she nodded vigorously, and he seemed satisfied because he gave a quiet smile to himself, patted her thigh and gave it a squeeze, then walked around the truck to haul himself up into the driver’s seat.

  The vehicle roared into life and they set off.

  ‘Thinking of us in bed?’ he murmured.

  ‘What do you think?’ she whispered hoarsely.

  And then she did visualise them together. It wasn’t the nightmare scenario it should have been. More a blissful entwining of his tanned limbs with hers, the feel of his firm body, masterful and insistent…

  She groaned, despairing at her susceptibility. But then she was inexperienced and Dexter knew exactly which buttons to push to raise the temperature.

  Some serious gold-digging was needed or she’d be reaching two hundred degrees centigrade and melting into his arms.

  ‘Marriage,’ she mused dreamily, with only a hint of a croak. ‘So it’s really happening! I can’t wait. All that lovely money. I’ll shop till I drop. Just let me get my hands on that plastic! Will I get an allowance, Dex? And Grandpa will need a new home and a full-time nurse. I suppose his treatment will cost a lot, but you can afford it.’ She clasped her hands in what she hoped looked like ecstasy. ‘We can have loads of holidays,’ she gloated. ‘Cruises, in the best cabin suites. Visits to London and New York, Paris, Hong Kong—’

  ‘Any other reason why you want to marry me?’ he asked drily as he swung off the road and headed for the foothills of the Monchique mountain range.

  She let herself ponder on this for a moment.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. It’s strictly a business arrangement isn’t it? You get my body and I get your loot.’

  He laughed. Threw back his head and roared.

  ‘What did I say?’ she cried, mesmerised by the texture of his golden throat.

  ‘You’re priceless,’ he chuckled.

  ‘No. I’ve got a price. It’s marriage,’ she retorted cheerily, thinking of the shock his ego would get when he realised she had no intention of going anywhere near a three tiered cake, bridesmaids or a groom.

  ‘You want that very much, don’t you?’

  ‘A rich man’s bride,’ she sighed ecstatically. ‘What girl wouldn’t?’

  She looked away from his amused face. It was worrying that she loved it when he laughed. That was when he was at his most dangerous. So she concentrated on the scenery.

  ‘What girl? One who was a romantic and believed in true love,’ he suggested drily.

  With some difficulty, she ensured that her hand dismissed such an idea as hopeless.

  ‘Romantics end up poor. Love can’t buy nice clothes,’ she said earnestly.

  ‘No,’ he said, his tone quiet and faintly disappointed.

  ‘It can’t even buy lovely scenery,’ she said, genuinely entranced by the views. ‘If you’re rich you can choose somewhere fabulous to live, like the Quinta.’

  ‘You like what you see?’ he asked in a low voice.

  Her eyes found his and her heart did its familiar somersault. Yes, she liked what she saw. But, mindful of the sexual threat he posed, she fixed her gaze dreamily on the landscape.

  ‘Very much,’ she said, her love of the inland scenery softening her voice and making her eyes shine with pleasure. ‘I do. There’s been such a lot of new building and newly constructed roads that I thought the countryside might have vanished beneath acres of concrete. But it’s still here and just as beautiful.’

  ‘Have you missed it?’ he enquired.

  ‘I’ve been so busy I’ve hardly had time to think of my life here,’ she said, her voice a mere whisper. But, yes, she missed it. She missed her beloved father desperately. Wished she felt the same about her mother, but then she’d hardly ever seen her. She’d always been shopping or staying in Lisbon, with her friends.

  But she’d missed the warm climate. The freedom to run around the spacious Quinta or the acres and acres of meadow and woodland…

  She pulled herself sternly together. It was no good moping over the past. Anyway, she had plans that would improve her future considerably.

  Dexter asked no more questions, his face set in serious lines as if he, too, was lost in reverie.

  After a while, Maddy was able to relax and enjoy the drive, though it seemed to her that Dex had taken them on a roundabout route—perhaps to avoid the main road. He’d always
adored the countryside too.

  Away from the coast and its—admittedly pretty—clusters of white villas, geraniums, palm trees and bougainvillaea, the landscape was very different. Lusher, more gentle.

  Here there were fields with roaming Landrace pigs, and sturdy horses nuzzling the buttercups. Little Roman bridges arched languidly over silvery rivers and old men paused in tending flocks of goats to watch the truck go slowly by, answering Dex’s wave with cheery greetings.

  The soil, she knew, was deep black and fertile, fed by the network of streams that trickled down from the high Serra de Monchique. She screwed her eyes up. On some of the poorer soils of the hills she could make out the white flowers of the scrub cistus and the small beige shapes of Churro sheep, grazing contentedly.

  Here and there were cork oak and eucalyptus plantations. The oak was a rich dark green, many of the trees pruned for charcoal and also to form a wide flat canopy that would shade domestic animals. In contrast, the tall eucalyptus looked misty blue and merged with the mysterious haze of the distant mountains.

  A calmness quietened her senses. For as long as she could remember she’d been living on the edge. Initially when she’d arrived in England she’d tried to be all things to her grandfather: confidante, helper, housekeeper and sounding-box. Later her duties had extended to those of provider and carer.

  She’d never really had a childhood after the age of eleven, or a teenage life, either. And money worries had filled her mind day after day.

  And now there was this latest stress; the need to foil the plot to marry her off—whilst preventing her grandfather from risking apoplexy at being thwarted.

  She sighed. In addition to that, there was now Dexter’s determined campaign to seduce her.

  It seemed to Maddy that the pressure had been immense for years and years. Yet today she was smiling, discovering for once what it was like to feel totally at ease. In these surroundings she could keep a sense of balance. She had forgotten how beautiful it was and how much she knew of the land and its flora and fauna.

  There had been good times here when she’d escaped her strict, widowed grandpa. She and her adored father had walked companionably together. With loving joy he had introduced her to the plants and flowers of the region and taught her to identify the birds by their song and their flight.