by Janet Woods
His eyes narrowed. ‘Not a chance. I offered you the opportunity to back out. You refused.’
‘You wouldn’t be generous enough to offer me another, would you?’
‘Not this side of twelvemonths, I’m afraid.’ He brought an envelope out of his pocket and slid it across the table to her before he stood. ‘The prenuptial agreement - and the results of my blood test.’
‘Blood test? You went and got a blood test? What for?’
‘Because you’re as slippery as an eel and I wouldn’t put it past you to demand a certificate just before the wedding.’
‘Hah! I’m not as devious as you. It wouldn’t even have crossed my mind.’ She pulled out the certificate and gazed at it. An array of code numbers with negative typed beside them marched down the page. Right at the bottom was a positive.’
She stabbed it with her forefinger. ‘What does that positive mean?’
He leaned over and whispered in here ear. ‘It means I’ll have no trouble becoming a father when the time arrives.’
She blushed, and decided to visit the doctor herself before the wedding. Leon was too damned eager to become a father. She wasn’t going to trust his arrangements. She’d take some precautions of her own.
She was only marrying him to get her land back, she told herself without much conviction. She didn’t want his babies! They’d be cute if they took after him though, and clever.
Leon poured them both a brandy and sat back in his chair. ‘Let’s go over the arrangements. Is there anyone you want to invite?’
She shook her head. ‘What about you?’
‘The staff at the inn. We’d better arrange the ceremony between lunch and dinner. About three, say.’
‘A practical suggestion, Leon.’
The hint of sarcasm in her voice stung him, but he let it pass. ‘You’ll need some money to buy yourself an outfit. I’ll fix you up with a credit card.’
‘Aren’t you worried that I might buy myself a ticket to Alaska with it?’
He gave a faint smile. ‘I don’t intend to be that generous - at least, not until after we’re married.’
‘I’ll try to find something cheap and cheerful, which sounds suitable for the occasion you have in mind.’
‘As long as it’s not a hair shirt.’
An angry glance was tossed at him. ‘I’m not stupid. No one apart from ourselves will know this is a marriage of convenience.’ Flags of color tinted her face. ‘And in case you’re wondering, I intend to be a wife in every sense of the word.’
He grinned as a flare of desire sparked in her eyes. She was coming back to life. The last thing he was worried about was their sexual relationship. She wanted him as much as he wanted her. All marriage would do was legalize what was inevitable between them.
* * * *
At two minutes to three Leon watched Darcie walk towards him through the small line of staff. She was alone, and looked wonderful clad in a silky cream ankle-length dress with pearl buttons from top to toe.
His eyes widened. She’d had her hair restyled into a short swathe of silky darkness that curved around her jawbone. If it was done as a protest, it didn’t work. The style suited her to perfection, framing her heart shaped face and emphasizing her high cheekbones. Her eyes looked blue and enormous - though slightly scared.
Yet she gave everyone a wide smile as she passed through the line of staff, and managed a passable one for him as she slipped her hand in his, and nodded calmly to the marriage celebrant - the first smile in a week.
Fifteen minutes later they were husband and wife, and her composure had fled after he’d thoroughly kissed her deliberately unresponsive lips into softness.
He made a short speech after the cake was cut and glasses of champagne handed around. Toasts were made, and after a speech from the head waiter - there was a presentation of a clock bought with a whip-round.
After an hour they found themselves alone. He held out his hand to her. ‘Shall we go, Mrs Price?’
She worried at her bottom lip for a second, and then nodded. Her eyes widened as he led her out to the car, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. ‘Oh, I thought we were going to the chalet.’
‘Is that relief I see in your eyes?’
‘Certainly not.’
‘Then it’s the opposite?’ He chuckled as he settled himself into the driving seat. ‘I won’t keep you waiting long. We’ll be in Perth in three hours.’
‘What about Georgie?’
‘He’s asleep in the backseat.’
He watched her grin when she saw the white satin bow tied around the dog’s neck. ‘He looks stupid in that.’
‘He’s bought you a wedding present. It’s tied to the ribbon.‘
The small flat box contained an exquisite sapphire pendant and matching earrings. Avoiding his eyes, she fondled the dog’s ear. ‘Thank you, Georgie, dear. They’re beautiful.’
‘Of course, he didn’t buy them all by himself.’ Leo gave her a sideways glance and grinned when he caught her eye. ‘He consulted me.’
Her laughter came a trifle reluctantly, but at least she laughed. It was followed with a quiet admission. ‘I’ve been terrified for the past few days.’
‘What of?’
‘Being married to you.’
‘You’ve managed admirably so far.’
This time her laughter was more spontaneous. ‘An hour and ten minutes is hardly a long time.’
‘It’s flown by.’ His hand briefly covered hers. ‘Relax, Darcie. I’m not about to beat my chest and demand a husband’s rights. Nothing will happen between us unless you want it to.‘
There was a certain relief for Darcie in knowing that, but with it came the realization she’d have to unbend enough to meet him halfway after trying to pretend he didn’t exist for the past week or so.
It would be much easier if he insisted on his rights, she rationalized as the car sped them through the glorious countryside towards the city, then she could reluctantly pretend to succumb to his advances in the time-honored manner, instead of having to admit to the needs and urges that had plagued her since she’d met him.
It was just her luck to fall for a man who believed in equality of the sexes rather than the cave-man approach!
A thought struck her. ‘Do marital rights actually exist any more? I mean ... these days a woman doesn’t have to submit to a husband’s advances. She can just say no.’
Raising an eyebrow he grinned. ‘You seem to have a one-track mind, Darcie.’
Her colour rose again. He knew she wouldn’t say no. As she surreptitiously examined the man she’d just married the tiny flutter of anticipation that had been with her all day flared into a healthy attack of lust.
She had to physically stop her hand from straying to his crisp dark hair and had an almost irrepressible urge to kiss the softly curving mouth that softened the sharp planes of his face and his astute gray eyes. There was something hawk-like about those eyes. Despite his charm, Leon had the confident look of a man who knew exactly what he was about - a man who could instinctively handle himself.
He knew how she felt about him. He was playing with her, knowing the outcome would be inevitable. The atmosphere was so charged with sensuality that they’d become lovers just breathing it in.
Her breath caught in her throat as the reflection of his eyes in the driving mirror tangled with hers. It was an instant collision of blue and gray - his amused, predatory, hers almost an open book for her thoughts.
‘You’re a beautiful bride, Mrs Price,’ he breathed as color crept beneath her skin. ‘I love your hair like that. I’m almost tempted to drive this car into the forest and make love to you right now - and to hell with whose rights are being violated.’
He didn’t of course - he couldn’t. They were in the center lane of traffic. But the idea of a romantic interlude in the forest heightened her senses and fired her imagination until she could think of nothing else but how it was going to be between them.
She was
relieved when they reached the house and were greeted by the housekeeper and her husband. There were more congratulations, and more champagne. After she’d served them dinner Anna discreetly retired to the small flat she shared with her husband at the side of the house.
Leon went through his phone messages, returning the calls of those he thought important. He returned from his study, his face lined with a frown, but apologetic. ‘Much as I hate the thought of leaving you I have to go out. Will you be all right by yourself for a while?’
‘Sure. I’ll get changed and watch the television.’
He kissed her cheek, then changed his mind and slid his mouth around to her lips. Darcie knew she was making it too obvious when she fired the kiss with the passion he’d kindled in her on the way up. He grinned as he backed away with barely disguised reluctance. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can. If you get bored you can always investigate the wardrobe in the guest room. The wife of a friend of mine owns a boutique. I asked her to send a few things round for you to try on. Anything you don’t like, she’ll take back.’
If he thinks he’s going to buy me ...? Correction. He had bought her.
She resisted the temptation to look, busying herself by dragging the lounge furniture into different positions to keep herself busy. Her face fell as she surveyed it. It had looked better the way it was in the first place.
The clock told her it was ten o’clock. Too late now to move it back, the morning would do. She’d take a bath.
But to take a bath she had to pass the guest bedroom, and the door was open - and she couldn’t resist taking just one peek.
It looked as he’d ordered the whole boutique to be delivered. Abandoning any lingering thoughts of resistance she gave a whoop of delight. She tried on everything - evening gowns, day outfits, pant suits, and casual wear - then decided she couldn’t bear to part with a thing.
The bed was piled high with boxes containing enough lingerie to last her a lifetime, nightwear, belts, scarves bags and hosiery. A full range of expensive cosmetics took up most of the surface of the dressing table. It was obvious she couldn’t sleep there - there wasn’t room. Besides, she reasoned. What would Anna think?’
She’d never seen so many garments in her life outside of a department store, she thought a little later as she wallowed in the spa. Leon obviously wasn’t mean. After she’d wrapped herself in a soft luxurious bathrobe she selected a black satin scrap from the pile on the bed. She figured if she was going to be wicked, she might as well do it in style as she wandered through to the master bedroom.
A bank of wardrobes took up one wall and reflected the huge bed. Leon seemed to favor restful colors, an ivory carpet and embossed wallpaper - a dusky gold bedspread and matching curtains, a picture of marigolds in a copper kettle hanging on the wall.
Double French doors led on to a verandah. The garden sloped steeply downward, giving a view over the river. She pushed them open and stared at the scenery for a few minutes, enjoying the reflected prisms of light on the water. The night was clear, but cold. Just beyond the trees on the opposite riverbank a glow indicated the moon was coming up. If she lay in bed and left the curtains drawn back she could watch it.
Shivering a little, she closed the doors, slipped between the cool ivory satin sheets and watched the moon as she waited, with undisguised anticipation, for her husband to return.
* * * *
Leon was in a foul mood when he returned to the house. The meeting with Martin and Helen had been difficult ... mostly due to Helen’s refusal to allow Martin to think or decided for himself.
Martin was weak - Helen greedy to the point of stupidity. She’d progressed from petulance to a fully blown tantrum that had left him seething with anger. She’d been at her most dramatic, something that would once have piqued his interest and amused him, but now simply bored him to death. Once she’d realized that, she’d changed tack, turning on the charm.
Her attempt to manipulate him was so blatant that he’d stayed on after Martin had gone, intending to make it clear to her that she was undermining the negotiations - which would harm her brother in the long run.
He should have realized it was the wrong thing to do. As soon as the door had closed behind her brother she’d thrown herself at him and suggested they spend the night together.
‘Sorry.’ He’d peeled her arms from around his neck. ‘My wife’s waiting for me.’
Her mouth had fallen open, then she’d sneered. ‘You fool, Leon, you didn’t marry that little tramp you shacked up with just to spite me, did you?’
He hadn’t bothered to answer, just stared at her with all the disdain he could muster.
‘You did, didn’t you?’ She’d begun to laugh. ‘Just wait until I tell everyone that you married some little opportunist on the rebound. You’ll be laughed out of town, and nobody that’s anybody will accept her socially.’
Her words had compelled him to turn and walk away from her - because for the first time in his life he’d felt like hitting a woman. He’d been so angry he’d pulled a ticket for speeding on the way home, and had been required to take a breathalyser test.
‘Some wedding night,’ he muttered as he let himself into the house and found it in darkness. ‘Even my bride has gone to bed without me.’
She’d probably taken advantage of his absence to hide in the guest bedroom. He choked out a laugh as he strode towards the lounge in the darkness. She’d probably locked the door as well.
He wasn’t going to try and find out. He wasn’t into the mood for a knock back. One stiff drink and ... ‘What the heck!’
He’d walked thigh high into something solid. The momentum of his upper body tipped him forward, his head and shoulders landed on something soft and his whole body was somersaulted over on to the floor. He lay there for a moment on his back, spread-eagled like a stranded starfish.
Darcie had obviously moved the furniture, he realized as he staggered to his feet and groped his way past unfamiliarly placed obstacles towards the hall. ‘Women,’ he fumed quietly. ‘Put a ring on their fingers and they take you over lock, stock and barrel.’
He took a quick shower, toweled himself dry, then padded naked through to the bedroom, using caution in case she’d set more traps for him. “I’ll be damned,’ he said softly. Darcie was in his bed, sound asleep, her face bathed in moonlight.
A tender smile dispelled his bad mood as he gazed down at her. One hand rested against her cheek, the fingers curled against the palm. Sliding into bed he unfurled them and gently kissed her palm.
‘Go and sleep in your basket, Georgie,’ she muttered, then turned on her side away from him and curled into a ball.
Though sorely tempted, he’d promised her he wouldn’t push this. When love happened between them he wanted it to be perfect, not one-sided. He had no intention of giving her grounds to walk out of the marriage - even if he had to wait forever.
Not that he’d have to wait for long. He smiled. No healthy man and woman could sleep in the same bed and remain immune to each other. It just wasn’t natural. So he left her to her dreams, and managed snatches of sleep between his.
When he woke in the early hours she was in the same position she’d been on that first morning. One slim leg was curled over his hip, her arm had wound between his arm and waist and dangled provocatively against his stomach. She shifted against his body, the silky material covering her an erotic whisper against his skin.
Now I do have a problem, Mrs Price. He suddenly grinned. Or you have!
Keeping her thigh in place with a hand around her buttock, he turned carefully towards her. One moonbeam stroked light across their faces, joining them together.
He almost groaned when she snuggled herself against him, instantly available to her needs, and more than willing to provide for his own.
Unable to resist the urgency of the situation he whispered her name and gently kissed her. Her mouth parted, responding with a trembling eagerness, as it had the first time. Totally relaxed, she smelt
and tasted wonderful as she wound her arms around his neck and sighed.
He held his breath when her eyes fluttered open. She smiled as she whispered, sleepily. ‘Who the hell are you?’
‘Would you believe, the three bears?’
‘All three, huh!’
She stretched against him in a sensuous, satiny slither that nearly finished him there and then, and gave a gurgle of laughter before she said hungrily, ‘Make love to me very slowly, Leon bear. I want to enjoy every delicious second.’ She was going to torture him by degrees - she was going to exact her revenge by keeping him waiting all night. I know her type. She’s into self-gratification!
‘But then again,’ she whispered, blowing his theory out the window as her fingers traced a shivering path down his spine. ‘Perhaps we should get to know each other over an entree, and proceed to the main course from there.’
What could a mere man do, but agree?
* * * *
Who ever said you could have too much of a good thing had been lying!
Leon’s skin was like fine burnished leather stretched over taut muscles. She was straddling his stomach, her knees firm against his hips. Sometime during the past half-hour he’d turned on the bedside light and dimmed it to a faint glow.
She could just make out his features in the eerie light, the intimacy of his eyes watching her, his faint smile when she teased herself against him.
Slowly his palms slid up over her thighs, over her black satin covering to caress the hard pointed tips of her breasts. She arched against the instruments of her pleasure, almost purring like a cat.
He came upright in one fluid movement and kissed her. ‘Let’s get this scrap of material out of the way. It’s teased me long enough.’
Obediently she held up her arms, but instead of pulling it completely off he trapped her inside it, rolled her on her back and kissed her through the filmy material. Excitement raced through her as his mouth slid lower, then his thumbs were circling her breasts and his mouth was tracing an erotic downward path of nerve endings.
She managed to escape from the garment, but was too late to stop him reaching his goal. This was something he’d hinted at earlier - something she’d indicated she was shy of, and had never experienced.
