Her head began to pound. “I can’t believe they’re doing this. Can’t we hold them off for another month? Perhaps by then we can find a way to meet the minimum payment—”
“It’s too late,” her mother blurted. “They won’t budge. We have to accept the inevitable. If there was any hope I wouldn’t be ringing you like this.”
Helen fisted her free hand to stop it shaking. “How’s Dad taking it?”
“Not so good. The doctor upped his heart pills yesterday.” Her mother’s voice sounded distant. “He blames the whole mess on himself.”
“He was only trying to protect us, Mum.”
“I know, darling, but if we’d known the legal fees would eventually outstrip the value of our land and property we’d have given in to the Skiptree Estate’s demands a lot earlier. At least that way we would have something left, somewhere to live at least. But we don’t have enough cash to fight the court case any longer. We have to give up.”
“And let that Skiptree woman bully us until she gets what she wants?” A hot tear slid over her bottom lashes, and Helen wiped it angrily away. “We can’t let her drive us out of our home!”
“Pride comes at a too high a price, I’m afraid. Not only has Lidia Skiptree exhausted every penny we have by dragging out the litigation, she’s also started to get to our customers. Orders have dropped off, and now, well, we simply can’t continue. Even if sales bounce back, we can’t afford to implement the latest health and safety requirements that were thrown at us last week. The sterilizing equipment’s packed up and we have to pour the milk down the drain.” Her mother’s voice rose a pitch. “She’s got us just where she wants us—reduced to selling a few eggs at the gate.”
“Damn the woman,” Helen snapped. “What idiot said money can’t buy you happiness? It’s getting her just about everything her dark little heart wants, even down to that ludicrous off-the-shelf title. Lady. She’s the furthest you could get from one. She’s a monster.”
“We aren’t the only ones.” Her mother sniffed. “She’s railroaded the sale of at least three other farms since she came back down from London. She’s determined to push this development of hers through.”
“Oh no …”
“We can’t fight her anymore. I’m sorry, my darling, but we have to face facts. It’s over.”
“No it isn’t, Mum.” Helen scraped the back of her sleeve over her sore eyes. “I won’t let her do this. It’s about time someone stood up to her and gave her a taste of her own medicine. There has to a way we can save Primrose Farm, and I’m going to do everything I can to give Lidia Skiptree a bloody nose.”
The line fell silent for a few seconds. “Don’t come rushing back, Helen. There’s nothing that can be done at this late stage, and I’ve already started packing things up anyway. You’re young and free and shouldn’t be having to worry about all this. You should be having fun, not looking out for your foolish old parents.”
“I think we can still sort this mess out, I really do.” Helen looked over to the business card next to the champagne bottle and swallowed hard before squeezing her eyes shut and crossing her fingers. “Look, I know this isn’t the best time to mention it, but I’ve met someone. He’s Spanish. His name’s Ricardo.”
.
“So you’ve come to your senses.” Ricardo lounged in an armchair on his stepmother’s terrace, his long legs stretched out in the sun. “I thought you’d put up some resistance for a day or two, but I’m pleasantly surprised that you’ve come round to my idea so quickly.”
Helen calmly picked up the glassware on the table and loaded it onto a tray. She was grateful there was no way he could hear how hard her heart was beating. “You’re assuming I came out here specifically to see you and not just to clear away the remains of last night’s cocktail party. Some might call that arrogance.”
He looked up from his newspaper and smiled coldly. “Do I assume correctly, or is it time to start turning the screw a little? If I was sensible I’d start reducing the fee by a hundred thousand for each day you make me wait.”
She put the tray down on the table. “I wouldn’t risk it, Ricardo. You might end up looking a bit silly.”
“Might I? How so?”
“Because the fee has gone up. I want two million, and I’d like half of it paid up front within five days.”
He was silent, and his stern tiger-eye gaze flashed dangerously until she was forced to turn away. Clasping her hands tightly under her armpits, she stared out over the balcony at the panoramic view of Ibiza town below. A blistering heat haze shimmered over the rooftops and the piercing blue sea made her squint. “Cat got your tongue?” She felt like sandpaper was lining her mouth.
“Not only has she got my tongue, she seems to be after all the cream as well. What a greedy girl you’re turning out to be.”
“Well, I figure that if I have to marry you, I might as well make it worth my while. I doubt if it will be an experience I’ll want to repeat. In that way I’m a lot like you, a loveless marriage isn’t something that’s ever interested me.” Helen could hardly believe what she was saying. “So we can be quite business-like about the whole thing. I will marry you, in three months it will be annulled, and I will disappear from your life forever.”
“Not quite.” His chair scraped back and within seconds she felt his presence close behind her. “You doubled the price. So the small print changes.”
She suppressed a shiver. “Meaning?”
“For two million, I want more. A lot more. There will be no annulment. The only way our marriage will end is in divorce.” She felt his large palms close around her shoulders, and a finger began to stroke the soft flesh on the side of her neck. “My inflated ego could never stand the public humiliation of an annulment. Our union will be consummated.”
“You’ve got to be joking.”
He turned her to face him, his smile hard and merciless as he began to twirl a lock of her hair around his forefinger. “You walked straight into very deep water trying to out-bargain me, Helen. It’s annoyed me. You will walk up the aisle, smiling as if your life depended on it, and then share my bed. For three months you will be my beautiful, obedient, compliant, willing wife in every way imaginable.”
“I won’t!”
“You will,” he murmured, pulling her tightly against his hard body. “Because you won’t be able to help yourself.”
His mouth easily silenced her protest. She felt the power in his muscles as she grabbed at his biceps to push him away, but her own arms became weak as the kiss intensified. His tongue explored as he held her tight and her struggle grew half-hearted as she found herself responding to him. Warm lips, sharp stubble, her breasts crushed against his broad chest—she shouldn’t let him …
His hands skimmed her bottom, and pulled her so close she could feel the hard ridge of his erection. Head spinning, she touched the bare triangle of flesh below his throat and the shock of such intense awareness made her lungs freeze.
Ricardo drew his mouth away. “I knew you’d see sense, but we mustn’t spoil our wedding night by getting carried away.” He lightly touched her breasts through the thin cotton of her T-shirt, brushing her tight nipples with the pads of his thumbs. “It will be worth the wait, I promise you.”
Helen’s eyes opened to find him grinning down at her. He had her exactly where he wanted her now that her body had been so treacherous. She’d gone up in flames the minute he’d touched her, and the ache between her thighs was like nothing she had ever experienced. Desire. Raw animal desire, but he wouldn’t get the better of her. She was no whore.
“I won’t sleep with you. It’s not going to happen.”
“This afternoon, my lawyer will come with the paperwork,” he whispered throatily, his breath feathering along her jaw. “And I’m considering making you an appointment with my doctor.”
“Your doctor?”
“Yes.” He eased away and gripped her shoulders firmly. “I need to be sure you are clean before I sign my mo
ney away, don’t I? There’s no way of knowing where you’ve been before.”
“How dare you!” Helen gasped, flicking away his hands with the sides of her wrists. “How bloody dare you speak to me like that. As if I’m dirt.”
“You must see it from my point of view—”
“Then get your damn lawyers to write it into a clause!”
He cocked his head to one side, showing no apparent concern for her wounded feelings. “There’s also the matter of contraception. I hate to be crude, but we don’t want any accidents prolonging this marriage, do we? I don’t anyway. We can’t afford to take any risks.”
“You’re not listening to me, I will not sleep with you, so there are no risks and it’s my body, not yours, so I’ll do what I want with it.”
“In that case, I’ll have my lawyers draft a clause to cover that too, because I don’t think you’ll be able to resist temptation and I never leave anything to chance. Three months and we both go our separate ways.” He ran his fingertips along the square ridge of his jaw. “We’ll be thoroughly sick of each other by then.”
“You can’t force me to agree to any of this.”
“I wouldn’t dream of forcing a woman to do anything.” His expression was dark, his slow smile lethal. “If you don’t like the terms and you don’t want the money after all, then … walk away.”
“This is monstrous!”
“This is a business deal that’s very much skewed in your favor, so you’d be advised to stop complaining and hand in your notice here immediately.”
“I can’t! I have to give a month’s notice. I’ll lose my reference—”
“Then I’ll sort this little problem out for you too as we have no time to waste. I’m astonishingly kind after all, don’t you think?”
“You’re mad.”
“And once we’ve dealt with Antonella I need to pay someone a visit, tell him our good news. He’ll be so pleased…”
“So you have at least two friends?”
“This one’s more of an acquaintance. The guy who bet me I’d never settle down and marry before I was thirty.” He laughed to himself. “Want to come along for the ride, or wait until the big day before you meet?”
“I’ll pass on that.”
Ricardo turned his head to look at her and smiled like he’d been injected with Botox—cold and without genuine expression. “Of course … you’re still employed to clear up Antonella’s mess until I secure your release, aren’t you? You’d better be a good girl and get all this stuff to the kitchen then.” He flicked a hand towards a congealed-looking Margarita. “It’s attracting flies.”
.
Helen watched a mosquito hover around the mirror for a few seconds, and as soon as it strayed over the tiled bathroom backsplash she swatted it with the back of her hand. She noticed that cold bathrooms had a certain smell to them, and a silent, still aura. A sanctuary. But only for a few moments. Ricardo was waiting for her to join him and the Condesa by the pool. Bloody Marys at eleven with pimento almonds. The Condesa loved that ritual. Sometimes it was cashews and Fino sherry, but always at eleven once the hairdresser had finished and left.
Helen would have preferred to do the whole resignation thing alone, but her reason for leaving was so preposterous, so bizarre, she didn’t think the Condesa would believe her. Ricardo could deal with the utter insanity of their deal. He was presumably unhinged enough to pull it off without a second thought. She glanced at her reflection in the mirror just as she had the day before. She looked the same, yet harder, as if liquid steel had been injected into her veins. A glaze of ice had layered over her eyes. She had sold her soul to the devil with this fake marriage deal, but she had no choice if she was to save everything she had ever loved. There were mirrors all over the villa, like eyes, windows into the soul asking who was the fairest of them all? There was no question—Antonella, the wicked witch. Only sycophants need apply for Helen’s job once she’d gone.
“Oh, there you are!” the Condesa said in a sing-songy voice when Helen approached the pool. “But empty handed?”
“Er, yes.”
“But it’s eleven o’clock, dear.”
“Yes, I know but—”
“We have something to tell you, Antonella,” Ricardo said with a voice so calm it made her shiver. He did “in control” so well. He’d be a terrifying enemy. Maybe that was why her heart was pounding so hard. She didn’t need another enemy. She didn’t need a husband, either, except … bizarrely, now she did.
“Something to tell me?” Her tanned crepe chin wobbled as she twisted a string of pearls between her fingers. “Intriguing …”
“Helen and I are to be married, so she will be leaving your employ with immediate effect.”
The Condesa rolled her kohl-rimmed eyes to the sky and made an inelegant snorting noise. “How preposterous.”
“Make no mistake, madrastra,” Ricardo replied, his voice diamond hard. “We are engaged. We will be married quickly. There will be minimal fuss.”
“Fuss?” The Condesa’s black eyebrows arched like a cat stretching. “You’re an internationally renowned Lothario, you stupid boy. Of course there will be fuss! And speculation …”
“I can deal with that.”
“I would ask whether your new fiancée is with child, but considering you only met yesterday—”
“I’m not pregnant,” Helen said. “We’ve not even—”
“We’ve not even set a firm date or venue.” Ricardo took Helen’s hand in his. “And I need to ask her father for her hand, so we’d appreciate your discretion for now.”
“My discretion?” The Condesa blinked and took a long breath before fixing Helen with a cold stare. “Naturally, discretion.”
“Excellent. So would you like me to replace your Girl Thursday, or is that something you’d like to arrange yourself?”
“I’m not senile if that’s what you’re inferring. What I need right now is a Bloody Mary.”
“Perhaps I can fix it for you one last time?” Helen shot Ricardo a pleading look.
“That would be most welcome.” The Condesa sent a sharp glance in Ricardo’s direction. “You’ve just perfected the mix. I’d appreciate it.”
Ricardo paused, took his phone from his pocket and checked it before saying, “Very well. I have an important call to make anyway. Say your farewells. Helen, I’ll be in the car when you’re finished.”
He turned on his heel and the two women watched him disappear through a stone arch in the direction of the courtyard where his car was parked.
The Condesa’s voice had an edge to it Helen hadn’t heard before. “Do you think you can handle him, Helen?”
“I’m not sure. I guess I’ll have to.”
“You’re smart. I think you probably can if you want to badly enough.”
“You must be shocked.”
The Condesa shrugged. “For a moment I was, but then I remembered he’s just like his father—impetuous, impulsive.”
“He is?”
“His father proposed to me within three hours of us meeting for the first time. Said it was love at first sight. Such behavior must be genetic.”
“I see.”
“No you don’t,” she said sharply. “But no matter. Can I give you some advice?”
The Condesa’s advice was the last thing Helen wanted, but she was determined to part on good terms. “I would welcome it,” she said quietly.
“I’ve no idea what’s going on between you two, and I don’t want to know either, but I’m not stupid. Protect yourself financially and emotionally. Men bore easily and we women age in the end. He’ll drop you like a stone when he’s had enough, so make sure he buys you plenty of jewelry to see you through your old age.” She lifted her hand and admired the large emerald glinting on her middle finger. “And don’t fall in love with him, whatever you do. Almanzas destroy their lovers given half a chance. Believe me, I know.”
…
Ricardo watched Helen turn the key in the l
ock of the green door to her flat once more. This would be the last time he’d leave her here to fend for herself. Their impending marriage may be a sham, but he had no intention of allowing her to slip back into the side streets and alleys where feral cats and other unsavory creatures roamed.
He revved the engine as he pulled off. It was immature, but he didn’t care. The noise took his mind off the meeting he was about to have. It was going to be an unpleasant experience, and right now he felt like a child who’d been sent to the headmaster to be punished for something he hadn’t done. Sent by a teacher who’d taken a dislike to him for no good reason. His “head teacher” was Jerardo Capella: his father’s ex business partner and his enemy.
“I have an appointment with your boss.” Ricardo tossed his car keys to the uniformed flunky who’d met him on the steps of an imposing glass-fronted building fenced in by parking restrictions. “It won’t take long. Shift the car if the police take an interest, will you?”
He didn’t wait for an acknowledgment before taking two steps at a time and shoving his way through a rotating glass door. He stalled the open-mouthed receptionist by saying, “I’m seeing Capella. He’s expecting me. I know where to find him and I’ll take the stairs. I’m faster than the elevator.” Ignoring her protests he was on the third floor within a minute and turning the handle of a heavy wooden door.
“So it’s true,” said a white-haired man sitting behind an enormous desk opposite a panoramic view of the Ibiza harbor. “I had assumed it was some kind of practical joke when my secretary said you wanted to see me.”
“This is no joke.” Ricardo crossed his arms and glowered down at the older man.
Jerardo Cappella slowly lifted his head, his face showing no emotion. “Then what is so important that you had to come here in person when we both have lawyers to communicate for us?”
“Your wager. I’ve come to call time on it. I want my father’s property back.”
A breath of amusement hissed through his nostrils. “The department store, you mean? And those decaying warehouses? I can’t imagine why you’re so desperate to win the bet and get it all back. You hardly need the income these days, do you?”
The Spanish Billionaire's Hired Bride Page 3
