Marriage Bargain with His Innocent
Page 3
Even after Antonio’s death Rose hadn’t sunk into the sort of dull-eyed, low-level despair Georgina had begun to notice in her recently. The fact that tests were still ongoing was simply feeding into her acceptance that the road she was travelling was heading sharply downwards. She was ill, she was down, and nothing was ever going to change.
Until now Georgie hadn’t really appreciated just how much of a surrogate mother Rose had become for her. Her own mother, whom she loved dearly, was worlds apart from her, wrapped up in academia—a world with which Georgina was unfamiliar. She had never got her intellect going, never been able to follow in her parents’ intellectual footsteps. Her father lectured in economics, her mother in international law.
She, on the other hand, even from a young age, had been a lot happier being creative. It was to her parents’ credit that they had never tried to push her towards a career she would have had no hope of achieving, and while they had busied themselves with university stuff Georgina, growing up, had drifted off to Matias’s house, bonded with his parents and adored their wacky creativity.
She loved his mother, and that thought put a bit of much-needed steel in her weakening resolve.
‘If I didn’t know better,’ Matias said, ‘I would be inclined to think that you’ve finally cracked. And here’s a little question, Georgie—why would my mother believe that you and I are an item? Every time we meet we end up arguing. I don’t like women who argue. My mother knows that. For God’s sake, she’s met enough of the women I’ve dated in the past to know that chalk and cheese just about sums it up when it comes to you and the kind of women I’m attracted to!’
Every word that left his beautiful mouth was a direct hit, but Georgina refused to let him get to her. However, she was distracted enough to ask, with dripping sarcasm, ‘So...you don’t like women who argue? Or do you mean you don’t like women who happen to have an opinion that doesn’t concur with yours? In other words, does your attraction to the opposite sex begin and end with towering blondes whose entire vocabulary is comprised of one word...yes?’
Matias folded his arms and burst out laughing. ‘Now you’re making me sound shallow,’ he drawled. ‘But, just for the record, I’ve never had a problem with towering blondes with single-syllable vocabularies. When you live life in the fast lane the last thing you want is a sniping nag reminding you that you’re back five minutes late and asking where’s the milk you were supposed to buy.’
‘I doubt you’ve ever done anything as mundane as buy a pint of milk, Matias.’
‘Not recently, I haven’t. Not since I was a kid, running errands down to that woefully badly stocked corner shop next to Bertie’s place. Of course there was only the occasional need for milk to be bought,’ he continued, his voice hardening, ‘after my parents decided to try their hand with a pet cow. But back on point, here. If my mother has bought this story of yours then she’s suffering from more than just mild depression. I mean...when exactly are we supposed to be conducting this raunchy, clandestine relationship that’s only now come to light?’
This was the longest one-to-one conversation they had had in a while, and Georgina was mesmerised by his dark, compelling beauty. She was noticing all sorts of details that had only before registered vaguely on her subconscious.
Like the depths of silvery grey in his eyes—at times as icy as the frozen Arctic wastes, at times almost black and smouldering. Like the sensual curve of his mouth and the aquiline perfection of his lean features. Not to mention the dramatic lushness of those black lashes that were so good at shielding what he didn’t want the world to see. He oozed an unfair amount of sinful sex appeal, and the longer she looked at him the more addled her brain became and the faster she lost track of what she wanted to say.
As if from those faraway days when she had dreamily fantasised about a relationship that had never stood a chance of materialising, the impact he’d always had on her came rushing back, as though no time had intervened...as though she’d never seen first-hand the type of women he enjoyed and the type he definitely didn’t. In short—her.
She dragged her disobedient eyes away and focused on a point just past his right shoulder. ‘I’m close to your mother, but she doesn’t know my every movement, Matias. I told her that we’d been meeting in secret for the past few months but didn’t want to bring it out into the open because it was still quite new...’
‘Ingenious. But now that’s all changed because we’ve...what? Had an epiphany? Fill in the blanks here, would you?’
‘I just said that it was...you know...in the early stages but definitely serious...’
‘And I’m guessing that you skirted over the details because you trusted that old adage that people will always believe what they want to believe?’
Georgina blushed. Her green eyes flashed defiance, but she was finding it hard to win him over, and with a sinking heart she knew that he wasn’t going to jump on board with this. She would have to return to the village with her tail between her legs and break the news that their so-called serious relationship had crashed and burned.
So much for impulse being a good thing. So much for the ends justifying the means.
‘Not going to happen, Georgie,’ Matias delivered with finality. ‘It was a ludicrous idea and, whilst I appreciate that you lied for the best of reasons, I’m not going to sucked into giving credence to your little charade.’
Defeated, Georgina could only look at him in silence. She tucked her hair behind her ear and sat on her hands, leaning forward, her body rigid with tension.
‘Furthermore, I dislike the fact that you saw fit to drag me into this poorly thought out scheme of yours. Did it never occur to you that I might have a life planned out that doesn’t include a phoney relationship with you to appease my mother?’
‘No,’ Georgina said with genuine honesty, because at the time there had been one thing and one thing only on her mind, and that had been the fastest way to bring Rose back from whatever dark place she was getting lost in.
‘Well, perhaps it should have.’
‘I just thought—’
‘Georgie,’ Matias interrupted heavily, standing up to indicate that the conversation was at an end, ‘you’ve always been like my parents. Warm-hearted, but essentially lacking in that practical gene which can sometimes appear harsh but which is the one that makes sense at the end of the day. Now, do you want some fondant?’
‘I’ve lost my appetite. And if by practical you mean hard as nails and cold as ice, then I’m very glad that I was born without that particular gene.’ She stood up as well. ‘You may pride yourself, Matias Silva, on seeing the world from your practical point of view, but that doesn’t necessarily make you a happy guy, does it? Yes, it might make you a wealthy one, but there’s a great big world out here that is rich and rewarding and has nothing to do with how much money you have in your bank account.’
‘We’ll agree to differ on that one.’
Georgina swerved past him and strode, head held high, towards the front door.
‘For God’s sake, Georgie, you can still stay the night in my house.’
‘I’d rather not, as it happens.’
‘Well, where’s the B&B?’
‘Somewhere in west London—but I’m happy to make my own way there.’
‘Just give me the address and I’ll get my driver to drop you. It’ll be a damn sight more comfortable than trekking on the Underground or trying to work out which bus goes where.’
He didn’t give her time to object. He flipped his cell phone out of his pocket and positioned himself in front of the door so that she couldn’t run away.
Matias had said what he’d wanted to say but he still felt guilty. He knew that she would see his lack of co-operation in her hare-brained scheme as a lack of concern for his mother. Nothing could be further from the truth. He had never had much in common with his parents—had always seen thei
r idealistic, holistic, hippy approach to life as charming but irresponsible—but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t loved them in his own way.
His biggest regret was the fact that he hadn’t been able to make it back for his father’s funeral. He’d been abroad, and it had all happened so damned fast. The flight connections to get him back to Cornwall had not been quick enough. He’d been too late. He’d never had the chance to fix the relationship he’d had with his father—a relationship that had been broken over a period of years as Matias had become ever more distant from his tree-hugging parents, whose ideologies he had never been able to grasp.
He’d failed as a son and, even though he’d spent his adult life trying to make up for it, by assiduously making sure his mother was taken care of, Matias knew that there was a yawning chasm between them for which the small, round, feisty copper-haired woman in front of him had judged and sentenced him a long time ago.
But as far as Matias was concerned involving him in something like this without first consulting him just wasn’t on.
‘My driver will be here in five minutes.’ He looked at her and she squirmed resentfully under his piercing gaze. ‘What will you tell my mother?’
‘Do you care? Maybe I’ll tell her that I showed up here and sadly found you in bed with a blonde.’
She sighed. She had no one but herself to blame for the mess she found herself in. Matias had every right to refuse to go along with her. He had his jam-packed life to lead, after all.
‘I won’t say that.’
‘I didn’t think you would.’
‘Because I’m so predictable?’
‘Because you’re not the sort.’ He paused. ‘I will come down to Cornwall,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘Maybe next weekend, and I’ll stay for a little longer than I usually do.’
‘I’ll make sure to keep out of your way,’ Georgina inserted politely. ‘It might make for fireworks if we’re supposed to be in the throes of a hostile break-up.’
Matias looked at her and reluctantly grinned. ‘Tell me why you’ve always been able to make me laugh even though we fight like cat and dog? No, scrap that. You’ll probably end up fighting with me again. What story will you spin for my mother when you break the disappointing news that we’re no longer a hot item?’
‘I don’t know. I’ll think of something.’
‘This was your idea,’ Matias mused, ‘but I’ll shoulder the blame for the break-up of a relationship that never was. It’ll be far more believable that I’m the baddie in this scenario anyway. I won’t be letting my mother down too much.’
He saw the flash of curiosity in her eyes and sidestepped it adroitly.
‘Fair’s fair, after all. Now... Safe trip back, Georgie.’ He hesitated. What else was there to say?
Georgina didn’t hang around. His chauffeur-driven Mercedes was waiting by the pavement, engine idling, and she didn’t look back as she ducked into the back seat.
Mission Impossible had turned into Mission She Must Have Been Crazy. She consoled herself all way to the bed and breakfast by telling herself that she had done her best and there was nothing more she could have done.
The bed and breakfast was not in the most salubrious of locations, but it was reasonably priced and it was clean. Her room was so small that everything seemed to be squeezed in, with only just enough free space to allow passage from bed to bathroom without minor injuries occurring en route.
She had a shower and stuck on the little tee shirt and skimpy shorts she always wore to sleep. At night, in the darkness of the bedroom...that was the time she felt most self-confident about her body.
She could have been married by now. She could have had a child! It was bizarre to think it, but it was true. Lying there in the dark, something about seeing Matias’s dark, beautiful face brought to mind thoughts of Robbie and the marriage that had never been.
They were memories that she kept locked away in her head, but now, like imps released from captivity, they stretched and decided to have a little fun at her expense. Memories of being engaged, planning her big day, only to be told a handful of weeks before they were due to tie the knot that he just couldn’t go through with it.
‘It’s not you!’ he had declared magnanimously, in what had to be the most over-used craven expression in any break-up. ‘It’s me. I just don’t feel the same way about you that I used to... I don’t understand it...’
They had parted ways and she had had to endure months of sensing the whispered pity behind her back every time she entered a room.
Robbie had stopped being attracted to her. Had he ever been attracted to her? Maybe not. Maybe he had been carried along on a tide of wanting to please her parents, because he had been her mother’s star pupil.
In her darkest, deepest thoughts she had sometimes wondered whether a part of her hadn’t simply been drawn to a guy who was diametrically different from Matias—a guy on whom she could pin all her hopes, finally snuffing out that silly, girlish flame that had continued to burn long after she should have grown out of it.
She cringed when she’d remembered the way Robbie had tried to encourage her to lose a bit of weight. Afterwards, when the dust had settled, she had discovered that he had met and married someone else in record time. Someone long and thin. Ever since then Georgina had made even more of an effort to conceal the body that had let her down.
Yes, it was silly—and, yes, it was nonsensical. But since when did feelings make sense?
She drifted into a restless sleep and had no idea how long she had been asleep when she heard a knocking on her door.
She surfaced, feeling drugged and disorientated. It didn’t occur to her to be careful when she tentatively pulled the door open because the bed and breakfast was securely locked against intruders. Which meant that the owner, a lovely woman in her fifties, could be the only person knocking.
And it wasn’t that late. Only a little after eleven. But she had been so shattered after her pointless visit to Matias that she had climbed into bed and fallen asleep almost immediately.
Her eyes started at the bottom. Loafers—expensive ones. Black jeans—low-slung. Black close-fitting jumper. Muscular body.
Georgina knew that it was Matias before her eyes collided with his silver dark gaze.
‘Let me in, Georgie.’
‘What are you doing here?’
‘We need to talk.’
‘How did you get in? Who let you in?’ She peered angrily past him in search of the culprit. ‘Whoever let you in had no right to do so!’
‘She sensed I wasn’t going to steal the family heirlooms. Let me in.’
‘Do you know what time it is?’
‘Not bedtime on a Saturday evening for most people under the age of forty-five. And time for me to tell you that there’s been a slight change of plan.’
Matias raked his fingers through his hair and shot her a look of brooding unease.
‘Whatever you have to say will have to wait until morning.’ Her heart beating like a sledgehammer, and feeling acutely aware of her lack of clothing, Georgina made to shut the door. In response Matias neatly wedged his foot in the open gap before he could be locked out.
‘I realise this is not the most convenient place in the world for a conversation, but what I have to say can’t wait. My mother called.’
Georgina hesitated. With a sigh, she reluctantly opened the door, then told him to sit at the dressing table so that she could at least get dressed.
She knew the sort he went for. Tall, leggy blondes who weighed next to nothing. She knew that what she had on was no more revealing than what most girls would wear to the park on a hot day. But she still had to swallow down a sickening feeling of self-consciousness as she scuttled into the bathroom clutching jeans and a tee shirt.
She’d disappeared in under ten seconds. But that was all it had taken for Matias to real
ise that the body she had always been at pains to keep hidden away was voluptuous, with curves in all the right places, and a derriere as round and as perfect as a peach. She wasn’t overweight. She was sexy.
His libido, which had been sadly tepid during the last few weeks of his tempestuous relationship with Ava, roared into shocking life, forcing him to conceal a prominent bulge by sitting on a stool by the window.
‘You were saying...?’ Georgina asked bluntly, when she reappeared in a more acceptable jeans and tee shirt outfit.
She made sure the overhead light was on its brightest setting, so that the room was now as brightly lit as the changing room in a department store. She perched on the edge of the bed, because there were no other available chairs, and rested her hands on her lap.
‘You should have dumped your pride and stayed at my place. It’s ridiculous what some people call a B&B in London. There’s not enough room here to swing a cat.’ It was proving impossible for him to get into a comfortable position.
‘The owner is lovely. It’s cheap. It’s clean. And I’m not being ripped off. What did your mother have to say?’
‘First of all, I was caught off-guard. It was late, and my mother seldom calls me.’
‘That’s because she doesn’t like to think that she might be disturbing you.’
‘More conversations about me, Georgie? Before I could break the disappointing news that we’d decided to call it a day, she launched into a long, excitable congratulatory speech and told me that it was the best thing that had happened to her in a long time. She said that she was under strict instructions not to call me, to wait until we both came down to Cornwall, but she knew that you’d headed to London and couldn’t contain herself. Said she felt she finally had something worth living for...’
‘Didn’t you believe me when I told you that?’
‘Hearing it from the horse’s mouth made a difference.’
He stood up, strolled to the window, peered out at an uninspiring view of the back of the building, where tall plastic bins were arranged like soldiers against the wall.