The Bride Who Wouldn't

by Carol Marinelli

  Kate’s eyes widened in shock and she shook her head. “No, I thought he was a billionaire.”

  “He was once.” Isaak said. “But he was a philanthropist and had given most of his wealth to charity. Had he lived, you would have left him broke.”

  Yes, he was angry.

  He pocketed the ring but not the earrings, stood, and shot her a warning. “This does not end here and, this time, I am referring to the contract.” He picked it up from the desk. “Are you going to attend the funeral?” His eyes told her that he would prefer that she did not but, defiant, she met his stern gaze.

  “Of course,” Kate said, but then she watched his jaw clamp together and those blood shot eyes screw closed, and Kate realised he wasn’t just upset about the money, Isaak really did seem to care about Ivor. Watching this arrogant man briefly struggle for composure, she reconsidered. “If it would make it easier for Ivor’s family I’ll stay away and pay my respects later.”

  Isaak opened his eyes to the soft of her voice and her compassion had him falter. “Whatever you feel is the right thing to do,” he said. “You live with your conscience, not I.”

  He turned to go but Kate halted him.

  “Be careful.”

  “Careful?”

  “With the ring,” Kate said. “It’s not a replica, it would be awful if something were to happen to it.”

  He said nothing and Kate let out a breath as he closed the door to her office.

  She needed to be careful too, Kate realised.

  Her fate had been left to Isaak Zaretsky’s discretion.

  It didn’t feel a very safe place to be.

  Chapter 2

  Isaak walked out onto the street to where his driver was waiting. He would have preferred a walk to clear his head but with Roman still absent from work and his uncle’s funeral tomorrow, he didn’t have the luxury of time.

  Not a replica?

  He went over her words as he took out the ring. A replica of what?

  He tried to make out the hallmarks but would need a magnifying glass. Certainly the ring was exquisite, the diamond was huge, the rubies and emeralds that surrounded were more than generous, but Isaak could not fathom why his uncle would call it a family heirloom.

  He thought of his mother’s thin gold band that had chained the devoutly religious woman to his father until her death, and it had been the same with his grandparents.

  There was nothing worth passing on, not even their DNA. The Zaretsky lineage was not one Isaak was proud of.

  His driver returned him to his plush office and Isaak took a call from Roman to say he would meet him at the church in the morning.

  “Why don’t I collect you and we arrive together?” Isaak suggested because he was worried how another funeral so closely to his wife’s might affect Roman.

  “The church will be fine.”

  “Roman?” Isaak pushed.

  “I’ve moved out of the house.”

  “Where to?”

  “A hotel,” Roman said. “And one that we don’t own. I’m using a different name. I just can’t stand to be at home…” he let out a mirthless laugh. “Not that it ever felt like one. Hopefully, going undercover will buy me a bit of time away from the press. With Ivor’s death, they’re saying we are cursed, they’re looking into Ava…” his voice cracked and Isaak’s free hand tightened into a fist at the mention of her name. “I don’t want her parents to find out that it was all lies.”

  “The press will back off soon,” Isaak said.

  “When?” Roman demanded. “They will be there at the funeral tomorrow, their cameras aimed, asking questions.”

  “And what do you care if that bitch is exposed?” Isaak demanded. “So what if her secret gets out. After all she did to you, it should be the least of your concerns.”

  “Whatever she did wrong,” Roman answered, “Ava was my wife. It is still my duty to protect her.”

  Duty.

  There was that word again.

  Isaak sat at his desk and took out the ring and tried to fathom why his uncle had entered into this scam with Kate.

  Perhaps he had loved her, Isaak conceded, and if money was the only way he could keep her…

  Why a year though?

  Isaak ran a tongue over suddenly dry lips.

  Perhaps Ivor had known that he was dying. He had always said that you could not take money with you.

  Maybe Kate had been his final indulgence.

  So why hadn’t Ivor told him about his bride to be?

  For a fleeting second, Isaak considered calling Ivor to ask him just what the hell had been going on, but then he rubbed his hand across his forehead, loathing the small window of madness that had descended a few times since his uncle’s death.

  He missed Ivor already.

  Apart from the grief, apart from the ache of sadness, he missed their regular conversations. It was starting to properly dawn that he would never be able to call him for sage advice, never again would they share a meal at the private club where Ivor was more than a member—he had been one of the chairmen and had donated millions to charities the club quietly supported.

  Had he properly thanked him, Isaak pondered? Had he ever actually sat his uncle down and told him just how grateful he and Roman were to Ivor for giving him their start?

  Yes, Isaak thought, he had.

  At least there was that solace.

  How much better it would be to be attending his wedding tomorrow rather than his funeral.

  And another Zaretsky wedding would have diverted the press’s attention from Roman.

  Isaak frowned and picked up the contract, reading through it again but with a different thought pattern now.

  The Zaretsky brothers, as well as their uncle, were known for their playboy ways and all three had grown tired of it.

  Isaak was perhaps starting to understand Ivor’s thinking, but for his own gain now.

  If he were to marry not only would a wedding move the spotlight from Roman, certainly some of Isaak’s investors would breathe a sigh of relief that his bad-boy ways had settled down. Isaak too was a little tired of being known more for his partying excesses and sexual prowess than his fiscal skills.

  And yes, Isaak thought, looking at Kate’s neat signature, certainly his uncle had recognised beauty.

  Isaak rang a detective he used and soon had a background check run. Kate had not lied. Her family ran an antiques dealership and were in dire straits financially. Kate held a history degree and had worked in the family business till two years ago and had since worked at the library. She had travelled to Russia recently and—Isaak quickly checked—yes, it had been with his uncle.

  No, she had not lied but the lovely Kate had chosen not to tell him that part.

  Perhaps he had found a solution?

  One that would benefit them all.

  *

  Kate was, as usual, one of the last to leave the library but she worked particularly late tonight knowing she might be taking tomorrow off to attend Ivor’s funeral. She still hadn’t decided whether or not to go. Her mind was still swirling from the meeting with Isaak and, having missed lunch by talking to him, she was starving and was considering picking up some noodles on her way home as she said goodnight to the guard.

  The heavy library door closed behind her and Kate stepped out into the dark London night.

  It was spring and soon the clocks would change but for now it felt as if they were locked in winter.

  “Kate.”

  She jumped at the sound of her name for even with one syllable she recognised his voice.

  “You need to make an appointment to see me,” Kate said and started to walk quickly. “I don’t discuss my business on the street.”

  “Then I buy you dinner.”

  “No thank you.”

  “A drink then…” Isaak suggested.

  “I said no thank you!” He caught her wrist and she gave in then for this six-foot-two Russian was not going to be gotten rid of so easily and so s
he stood and faced him.

  “I have a solution,” he said.

  “Really!”

  “As you said, business should not be discussed on the street, we go to my club.”

  “Club!” Kate’s lips curled in distaste. “On the eve of your uncle’s funeral?”

  He said nothing just nodded to his car where the driver was holding open the door and Kate knew there was no getting out of it.

  As they were driven past Hyde Park and to Mayfair, Kate could have kicked herself, especially when they pulled up outside a very esteemed private club. The car was bathed in gold by a street lamp and she actually offered an apology.

  “When you said club, I thought you meant a night club.”

  His eyes skimmed over her attire, the thick stockings and cardigan and for the first time since meeting her, he actually smiled at the thought of her in a nightclub, though he made no comment.

  Kate had never seen a smile change someone’s features so. His stern mouth softened and there was a small fan of lines around his eyes like rays of the sun coming out and Kate was suddenly nervous but for different reasons for she had never truly been attracted to a man.

  “Come,” Isaak said. “I need to eat.”

  As he signed her in, a woman at the desk offered her condolences to Isaak.

  “Thank you.”

  They walked through the elegant building and another gentleman came over and shook Isaak’s hand.

  “He will be terribly missed.” The man turned and raised a glass and Kate looked over and there, on the wall behind them, was a portrait of Ivor. Seeing his kind face smiling down on them made Kate let out a little cry of surprise.

  “Excuse us,” Isaak said to his friend and guided Kate to a table.

  “We are both members here,” Isaak explained. “Or he was,” Isaak corrected. “I am struggling with my tenses. Usually my English is excellent but…”

  “It’s fine,” Kate said, “I think we all struggle with that type of thing when someone we care for dies.”

  Isaak nodded to one of the waiting staff to come over.

  “I don’t want to have dinner,” Kate said because she wanted this over with quickly.

  “You’re sure?” Isaak checked.

  “Very.”

  “I don’t need the menu then.” He nodded to the waitress. “I’ll have the Beef Wellington, please.” He looked to Kate. “What would you like to drink?”

  Oh God, she was seriously hungry but no, she was not going to share a meal with him, Kate decided, and how rude of him to sit and eat in front of her! She would have one drink and then go. “A brandy,” Kate said, hoping it might douse the butterflies in her stomach.

  “I used to come here with my uncle,” Isaak explained. “When I first came from Russia I discovered how much I liked English women and so I kept missing my English classes. I thought Ivor didn’t know but he brought me here and insisted I order—I remember sweating as I read the menu…” Isaak watched as her generous mouth started to stretch into a smile and it was enough of a reward for him to continue. “To my left I heard someone say to his partner, in a very posh voice, that the Beef Wellington was marvellous here and so I ordered it.” He started to laugh a little as he recalled it. “Now, every time we come, that is what I have.”

  “Did he know you were faking it?”

  “Of course,” Isaak said as their drinks were delivered—a large glass of red wine for Isaak and a brandy that Kate took one look at and knew, if she finished it, that any butterflies would be more than doused, they’d be knocked unconscious.

  “They’re very generous serves,” Kate commented taking a sip.

  “Enjoy,” Isaak said. “Are you sure you don’t want to eat, I hear the Beef Wellington is marvellous.” He mimicked a posh English accent again and she smiled as she shook her head.

  “Really no,” Kate said, wishing she could just say yes and not just because her stomach was growling. He really was good company but then she remembered her debt and knew she hadn’t been brought here on a whim. “You said you had a solution,” Kate started.

  “I do,” Isaak said. “You would have heard about the death of my brother’s wife.”

  “I did,” Kate said. “Ivor was devastated, especially when Roman told him about…” she halted and saw Isaak’s eyes widen briefly in shock.

  “About what?”

  “I…” Kate flustered, and took another sip of her drink unsure whether to tell him what she knew but Isaak wasn’t letting her off the hook.

  “About what?” Isaak demanded.

  “The baby.”

  “What about the baby?” Isaak said slowly, more than a little stunned because he had assumed she would have read about the accident in the papers, not that Ivor might have discussed the details with Kate. “Please, Kate, tell me.” He looked around to make sure no one could hear them and leant closer in. “Quietly.”

  Kate leant in too, her heart hammering at being so close to him as she whispered what she knew. “That there was no baby.”

  “He told you that?” Their eyes met and held as he tried to wrestle with this information.

  “He was devastated for Roman,” Kate said. “I don’t think he even wanted to tell me but he broke down…”

  “He trusted you.”

  “Why wouldn’t he?” Kate said and then leant back, the near contact making her slightly dizzy or was it that she had finished her drink?

  There was a small break in the conversation as his meal was delivered and her drink was replaced with another.

  “I’ll have a coffee please,” Kate said. “I really do need to get home, Isaak.”

  “Of course.”

  He loaded his fork with a delectable looking piece of beef and added pastry and then some of the creamiest, buttery mashed potato and Kate licked her lips. He popped the fork into his mouth and gave a small groan that had her stomach fold, though not in hunger—there was something so carnal to his pleasure. “So good,” Isaak said and loaded his fork with the same care he had before and then held it out to her. “Taste?”

  “No!”

  Isaak startled at her frown and her shrill decline but then gave a low laugh. “Sorry, I forget I am with a lady, usually I like to taste from the other’s plate, you know…”

  No, Kate didn’t know.

  She wanted to though.

  Heaven help her, she took another sip of brandy as Isaak finally started to discuss the real reason she was here.

  That she knew about his brother appeased him and told him that nothing would go further, for clearly she hadn’t discussed it with anyone but Ivor and himself. “The press are making my brother’s life hell,” Isaak said. “A wedding would be a very good idea.”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “If I were to marry, the focus would move to me. Roman doesn’t want the press to find out about Ava.”

  “I can understand that,” Kate nodded.

  “Also, I have been having a few issues with the press myself. I am tired of my own reputation, a year laying low sounds good to me.”

  “Laying low?” She was starting—just starting—to fathom where this might be leading. “Isaak…”

  “Just listen to me for a moment,” he said. “Your family still needs money, I could use a quiet year, and Roman certainly—”

  “I’m not marrying you.”

  “Why not?” Isaak said, loading his fork again “The terms would be the same as the contract.”

  “No.”

  “So what’s your solution then?” Isaak asked. “Because you surely need one. I’ve run the contract past my lawyer and his suggestion is that I apply to the court for a freeze on all your family’s assets. This seems a friendlier solution.”

  For a moment there he had seemed friendly, now Kate was reminded of the power of the man.

  “Is there a ladies room?” she asked and Isaak nodded and pointed to the corridor they had come from.

  As Kate got up, Isaak watched her walk just a little unsteadi
ly towards it.

  One drink and she was half pissed, Isaak smiled, then glanced at her glass. Make that two drinks, but even so…

  She was cute, Isaak decided. Buttoned up, prim but very, very cute. And then he imagined her unbuttoned and smiling at him from the pillow.

  Yes, this could be a very pleasant year.

  *

  Kate was very grateful for a leather seat in the plush ladies room. She looked in a full-length mirror at her mostly pale face but her cheeks were on fire and her panic was mounting as she called her mother.

  “I’ve been speaking with Isaak Zaretsky.” Kate could hardly get the words out, even her voice seemed to be shaking. “He’s talking about freezing assets…”

  “What the hell have you done!” Instantly her mother was accusatory, as if this hellish mess was all Kate’s fault. “Your father must be turning in his grave, he loved that business, it was his life.”

  “Mum, please, listen…”

  “No, Kate, you listen. You got us into this mess, you can get us out.”

  “The business was a disaster long before I came up with this,” Kate attempted to point out.

  “Of course it was a disaster, thanks to you turning your back when we needed you the most.”

  Kate faltered trying to reset the guilt switch that had just tripped, but her mother was relentless. “You’re the one with the history degree, Kate. Your father passed so much of his knowledge on to you, it would kill him again if he knew the business was going under and that you simply walked away—” And then her mother truly panicked. “I’m not losing my home!”

  “Isaak says that I can marry him instead,” Kate interrupted and she closed her eyes, silently pleading for her mother to say that was a ridiculous suggestion and she didn’t have to consider it.

  “Would you get the next instalments if you did?”

  Kate opened her eyes and looked in the mirror. The shock at her mother’s response had caused all the colour to drain from her face. Even her lips were white. “Mum…” Kate’s voice was a soft beg. “I don’t even know the man.”

  Silence was her mother’s response.