Wedding Fever

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Wedding Fever Page 6

by Lee Wilkinson


  Having settled her in, Nick took off his jacket and tossed it onto the back seat before sliding in beside her.

  Hedged about by a barbed wire silence, they had travelled some three or four miles towards home when, ignoring Raine’s quick protest, Nick swung off the main road and onto a narrow winding lane.

  Their lights making a bright tunnel through the autumn foliage, they followed the lane until the banks on either side flattened out and he drew the car onto the grass verge beneath a stand of glorious bronze and gold beech trees.

  Switching off the headlights, he turned towards her. In the gloom she could make out the strong lines of his face, the gleam of his heavy-lidded eyes above prominent cheekbones, the squarish chin marked with a slight cleft, the austere yet sensual mouth...

  ‘There’s no need to look quite so scared.’ His voice was soft and mocking.

  ‘I’m not scared,’ she lied. ‘But I don’t want to be here with you. I want to go home.’

  He reached to unclip their safety belts. ‘First we need a private talk.’

  She lifted her chin. ‘All right—talk! Tell me why you think you can force me to marry you.’

  ‘Because I’m in a position to ruin your father.’

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THOUGH quietly spoken, the threat seemed so melodramatic, so theatrical, that she wanted to laugh.

  A glance at Nick’s face, with its bleak expression and set lips, told her there was nothing to laugh about

  She sat stock-still, unblinking, her breathing rigidly controlled, while her thoughts wheeled and galloped about like stampeding horses.

  Could this threat to ruin her father be just an elaborate hoax to try and rattle her, to settle old scores?

  Of course! It was the only explanation that made any sense. And she’d almost fallen for it! She gave a wry grimace at her own gullibility.

  With an insight that seemed to allow him to know just what was going on in her head, he remarked, ‘You think I’m joking?’

  ‘Aren’t you?’ She permitted a smile to curve her lovely lips.

  There was no answering smile, and in the gloom his eyes glittered coldly. ‘I’ll let you be the judge of that when I tell you if it wasn’t for me your father’s business would fold.’

  Wanting to repudiate that statement, Raine began to shake her head.

  ‘If you don’t believe me, ask him. Though I’d rather you didn’t.’

  ‘I’ll bet!’

  ‘Not for the reason you think.’

  Palms clammy with cold perspiration, she demanded, ‘How much does he owe you?’

  ‘Shall we say a great deal more than he could possibly raise?’

  No, it couldn’t be true! Desperately she fought back. ‘I’m aware the slump hit his business hard, but if things had been that bad he would have told me.’

  Nick shook his head. ‘He’s been trying to keep it from you—that’s why I’d rather you didn’t speak to him about it. Your father’s no longer a young man, nor in the best of health, and—’

  ‘Nor in the best of health...’ All her fears suddenly resurfacing, she broke in urgently, ‘Has Dad got a bad heart?’

  Looking startled, Nick assured her, ‘No, of course he hasn’t.’

  But somehow the denial was too quick, too positive.

  ‘Please, Nick, tell me the truth,’ she begged.

  ‘That is the truth. Believe me, there’s no need to worry on that score.’

  It sounded genuine, but still she got the impression that he was uncomfortable, hiding something.

  Watching her expressive face, he added, ‘You can always ask his doctor.’

  ‘I fully intend to.’

  After a moment, when he said no more, she battened down her fears and returned to the main issue. ‘So you’re trying to tell me—’

  ‘I’m not trying to tell you. I am telling you that I’ve put so much money into your father’s business that to all intents and purposes I now own it.’

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ she whispered. ‘You’re lying.’

  When he didn’t deign to answer the accusation, her body motionless, her brain icy cold, Raine stared down at her clenched hands while she thought back over the past year.

  The property market had been badly hit by the recession, and there had been times when her father had looked distinctly anxious, but he’d always made light of their difficulties...

  “As you know, we lost heavily when that big development project fell through,” she remembered him saying. “But things have started to pick up. We’ll soon be climbing out of the red quite nicely...”

  It was clear now that he’d been trying to save her peace of mind, to protect her as he’d always protected her.

  How thoughtless she’d been, how blindly selfish! She’d gaily taken his word and allowed him to shoulder the whole burden alone.

  And just a short while ago when, working out the budget for the wedding, she’d queried the present state of their finances, after the briefest hesitation, he’d said heartily, “Fine, fine... If you’re sure Kevin’s the man for you, spend whatever you need. I’d like to do my only daughter proud.’

  Oh, Dad! she cried silently. I’m sorry... I’m so sorry...

  With a warm hand beneath her chin, Nick lifted her face and turned it towards him. ‘Having had time to think about it, do you still believe I’m lying?’

  ‘No,’ she said with bitter certainty. ‘I’m sure you’ve done exactly as you say...’ Jerking free, she went on, ‘Tell me something, this idea of forcing me to marry you, how long have you had it in mind?’

  Smiling grimly, he suggested, ‘You tell me.’

  ‘Since Dad told you that Kevin and I had set the date for our wedding?’

  ‘Spot on,’ Nick admitted, adding coolly, ‘I’ve no intention of allowing you to marry some bloodless civil servant. Even if I have to use strong-arm tactics, I want you for my wife...’

  Then he demanded, with a touch of impatience, ‘Well, Raine?’

  She shook her head. ‘Go ahead with your take-over plan if you want to. All you’ll gain is another business.’

  Seeing Nick frown, she went on with more confidence, ‘I’m afraid you’ve rather misjudged things. Though I’d be very sorry to see Dad lose everything he’s worked for, as you yourself pointed out he’s no longer young in fact, he’s getting close to retiring age...’

  ‘Retired people have to have enough money to pay their way.’

  ‘Kevin’s not a pauper.’

  Nick laughed with what sounded like genuine amusement. ‘Can you really see Somersby going out of his way to help pay his ex-fiancée’s father’s housekeeper?’

  Raine gritted her teeth. ‘Martha wouldn’t leave; she’s part of the family.’

  ‘She still needs some kind of income.’

  ‘If I don’t get married, I can take care of that. I’ll find another job and—’

  ‘It would have to be a highly paid one.’

  Reacting to his tone rather than his words, she demanded, ‘Why do you say that?’

  ‘Because you would need to find somewhere else to live. You see, as well as owning the company, I hold the deeds to White Ladies.’

  Shock hit her, making her huddle in her seat, stunned and motionless.

  When her brain cleared somewhat, all the fight knocked out of her by the surprise of her opponent’s two-pronged strategy, she felt only a dull acceptance of the fait accompli .

  Nick had said, “I hold the whip hand”, and he wasn’t a man to make that kind of statement without being sure of his ground.

  ‘Well, Raine?’

  It was the same mocking query. This time the answer had to be different. There was no way she could let Ralph, who had been both mother and father to her for the past ten years, lose the home he loved.

  Turning to face the formidable man by her side, she tried for some kind of compromise—something not so binding as marriage. ‘Suppose I agree to sleep with you whenever you want.’

&
nbsp; Nick laughed harshly. ‘If you think I’m going to be satisfied with creeping into your room each night as though we’re having some clandestine affair, you’re quite mistaken.’

  ‘All right I’ll live with you openly.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that upset your father? Without being in the least narrow-minded, doesn’t he expect his daughter to have what he might term “good old-fashioned standards”? ’

  Then, like a cobra striking, he asked, ‘Wasn’t that why you failed to tell him what happened a year ago?’

  Glad of the gloom that helped to hide her burning face, Raine demanded thickly, ‘How do you know I didn’t tell him?’

  ‘Because when you ran and hid when I came over, and it became clear that you were determined to have nothing more to do with me, I told him myself.’

  ‘You what?’ she spluttered.

  ‘I told him myself,’ Nick repeated flatly.

  ‘Oh, how could you?’ She was almost frantic. ‘You had no right to tell him.’

  Nick disagreed coolly. ‘I was involved, and in the circumstances I thought it best.’

  ‘I don’t—’

  He put a lean finger against her lips, stopping the angry words. ‘It occurred to me that you might be pregnant, and desperate enough to do something foolish.’

  ‘You mean have an abortion! I would never have done such a thing...’

  ‘Well, I couldn’t be sure of that, and, having commitments in Boston—’

  ‘In the form of a fiancée,’ she interrupted bitterly.

  A tightening of his jaw muscles was the only sign that her words had struck home before he went on evenly, ‘At that time, for both personal and business reasons, I couldn’t stay in England indefinitely, so I wanted Ralph to know the score.’

  Then, answering her unspoken question, Nick added gently, ‘On the whole he took it very well. Afterwards we had a drink together and he told me about Beatrice . . . which explained a lot...’

  Raine was startled. To the best of her knowledge her father had never talked about his much loved younger sister to anyone else. Beatrice had been sweet and beautiful, but wild. Amoral rather than immoral, she had died at nineteen from the effects of an illegal abortion.

  Raine’s eyes filled with tears. After all his care and concern to bring her up with good moral values, her father must have been terribly hurt and saddened. But his attitude towards her hadn’t changed in the slightest. He had never blamed or reproached her, never given the faintest sign that he knew.

  ‘So in the circumstances,’ Nick was going on, ‘I’m sure you wouldn’t want to disappoint him a second time. In any case, as far as I’m concerned, it’s marriage or nothing.’

  She longed to scream, Nothing! Nothing! Nothing! Instead she said in an almost normal voice, ‘And if I refuse to marry you?’

  ‘Do you need to ask?’

  She knew well enough that he could be completely ruthless when it came to getting what he wanted. And there was no doubt in her mind that he wanted her. Still she clutched at a straw. ‘You might be bluffing.’

  His voice was pure polished steel. ‘I might—if you think you can afford to take that chance.’

  She didn’t. Somehow the very fact that he was refraining from putting on pressure made her all the more certain that he wasn’t bluffing.

  ‘What will you do if I marry you?’

  A little smile curved his lips. ‘Make slow, delectable love to you until—’

  Heat scorching through her, she croaked, ‘I mean about Dad.’

  ‘As soon as he’s my father-in-law the business and the house will be his again.’

  ‘That’s very generous,’ she said slowly.

  ‘I’m sure you’ll be worth it,’ he retorted sardonically.

  Raine bit her lip. ‘How long would you...?’

  ‘Expect the marriage to last?’ he queried when she faltered to a halt. ‘Let’s wait and see, shall we?’

  ‘An open-ended sentence,’ she said with sudden bitterness.

  ‘If that’s how you care to look at it.’ There was anger in his voice.

  ‘How else can I look at it? You don’t really want me for a wife. You just want to use me as a...a sex-object, to rid yourself of an obsession.’

  ‘Would you rather I said I loved you?’

  ‘No!’ she cried violently. ‘I wouldn’t believe you if you did. I’d sooner you were honest. At least I know where I stand.’

  Then, because she couldn’t stomach the thought of going back to Boston, to the home he must have shared with Tina, she said quietly, ‘But America’s so far away. And I . . . I’d hoped to be closer to Dad,’ she finished desperately.

  ‘Who said we’d be living in the States?’

  She peered at his face, trying to read its expression in the half-light before saying hesitantly, ‘I know you’re expecting to be in England for a while, but...’

  ‘If things go according to plan I was thinking of moving here permanently,’ he said, and then, with a touch of impatience, ’And I’m quite happy to live at White Ladies, if that helps to make up your mind.’

  It was an unexpected lightening of the load, but it didn’t affect the main issue. She couldn’t bear the thought of being married to a man who hated her, who only wanted to use her.

  Suddenly she was filled with a searing despair—an old despair, yet much worse.

  Once, believing he cared for her, she had found heaven in his arms. Now, heartsick and disillusioned, knowing he’d loved and married another woman, it would be hell.

  But what choice had she?

  Looking through the windscreen, watching with unseeing eyes a few papery beech leaves—colourless in the moonlight—float down and settle on the car bonnet, she said jerkily, ‘I need time to think about it.’

  ‘Very well. I’ll give you until tomorrow morning. In the meantime...’ Before she realised what he was about, he took her left hand and, sliding the solitaire from her finger, slipped it into his pocket.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she gasped.

  ‘I don’t like the idea of kissing you while you’re wearing another man’s ring.’ His voice dropped to a husky murmur, ‘And it seems a shame to waste such a romantic moon.’

  ‘Don’t touch me.’ Her voice was suddenly shrill with panic. ‘I hate you to touch me.’

  ‘So you said earlier, but I beg leave to doubt it. You might not want my touch, but your body does. Do I have to prove it?’

  No, he didn’t have to prove anything. Already her heart was beating faster, and every nerve-ending was springing into life in anticipation.

  But he sat quite still, making no move, and as the seconds ticked past the beat of her heart became so frantic it seemed to be in her throat, choking her.

  Some instinct of self-preservation urged her to fling open the car door and run, but she felt spellbound, held in thrall. Neither the past nor the future had any reality; only the here and now mattered as she waited impatiently for his touch.

  If she turned her head a little more she would feel his breath stir her fringe, and her own lips would be within inches of his brown throat...

  Jerking back from the pit, her voice trembling, beyond her control, she demanded, ‘Take me home.’

  As if he’d read her seductive thoughts, rather than listened to her words, he brushed the black silky curtain of hair aside and bent to touch his mouth to the side of her neck.

  ‘No! I mean it—no!’ There was fright in her cry.

  ‘Poor baby,’ he mocked gently, ‘you sound scared to death.’ Before she guessed his intention he had shot the seat back, and, swivelling her body, he lifted her so that she was half lying across his knee, her hair cascading over his arm.

  Trapped against his broad chest, feeling the solid bone and muscle through the thin fabric of his shirt, she begged in a hoarse little whisper, ‘Please, Nick!’

  When his free hand cupped her chin and turned her face up to his, he saw the tears of fear and excitement that glittered in her eyes.r />
  ‘There’s no need to panic,’ he said quizzically. ‘Even with your co-operation I doubt if I could make love to you in the front seat of a car. The steering wheel gets in the way.

  ‘In any case, I’m not as a rule in favour of what I believe is crudely termed “a quick bang”. When I do make love to you I want the whole night before me—’ his voice dropped to a husky murmur ‘—a comfortable bed and a long, slow seduction.’

  He traced her lips with a sensual fingertip. ‘At the moment I’m only planning to kiss you a little.’

  ‘Don’t...’

  But the despairing protest was lost as he bent and remorselessly covered her mouth with his own.

  She went rigid, lips clamped together, trying to resist . . . trying . . .

  Lifting his head a little, he said deeply, ‘Open your mouth and kiss me.’

  The longing in his voice startled her, and, lips parted, she was caught defenceless. This time he invaded her mouth, searching it so deeply that her whole being seemed to take fire.

  Unable to quell the flames, she abandoned herself to the urgency of her own needs, to the relentless passion that left her shaking in his arms.

  His lips caressed her temples, her closed eyes, the curve of her cheek. With little sucking, nibbling kisses he found the soft, velvety skin beneath her chin and jaw.

  When his mouth touched the warm hollow at the base of her throat and his hand slid inside the crossover bodice of her dress she began to whimper—soft, involuntary little threads of sound.

  The tips of his fingers stroked the curve of her breast, finding the sensitive nipple through the fine material of her bra, exploiting her weakness, her vulnerability, arousing her to fever-pitch.

  She clutched at his hand, at the same time turning her flushed face into his chest. ‘Don’t... I can’t bear it!’

  ‘You want it and need it.’

  ‘Not like this... Not at all...’ She had hoped never again to feel the fierce needs that had betrayed her a year ago, leaving her ashamed and humiliated.

  When Kevin had proposed to her she’d seen the chance to keep them safely under control, to channel her natural instincts into the kind of calm, placid relationship she could handle.

 

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