His Wedding-Night Heir (6 page)

added. 'So there's no threat of you wanting t on a permanent

basis."

She said tautly, 'Cramping your style?'

'Precisely, darling,' he drawled. 'How well you're getting to

know me.'

'Then think about this instead,' Cally pressed on, with a touch

of desperation. "There's no certainty about these things.

Pregnancy and the rest of it. For all we know I might not—

one of us might not—be able to have children."

Nick shrugged. 'That's a risk I'm prepared to take.' His eyes

met hers. 'Are you on the Pill?'

Mutely, she shook her head. A celibate life, she thought, didn't

need that kind of protection.

"Then I'd need you to guarantee to stay off it,' he said curtly.

'But the final decision, as I've made clear, rests entirely with

you. You either co-operate—come back to me as my wife—or

you don't. A simple choice.'

Simple? Cally thought, a bubble of hysteria forming in her

chest. Simple? Was that what he really believed?

'It's revenge—isn't it?' Her voice was torn—ragged. 'You want

to punish me—humiliate me. It's payback time.'

'If so, you're heavily in arrears, sweetheart,' he told her un-

smilingly. 'Tell me something, Cally, why accept my marriage

proposal in the first place— if it was so degrading to you?'

She hesitated warily. 'I—I suppose I was grateful. It was all a

hell of a mess and you rescued us. Although you had no

reason to do so. And if I never said it before, I'll say it now.

Thank you for that—for everything you did for my

grandfather—and for me.'

His glance was cynical. 'I want more than words, Cally.'

Her voice trembled. 'But I have nothing else to give. I could

try and repay you in other ways eventually, but I won't—do

what you want. You must see that. I—I can't...'

He studied her for a moment, brows raised, then reached into

his jacket for a mobile phone.

'What are you doing?'

'Calling Matt at the hotel, to tell him tomorrow's site visit is

cancelled.' His voice was clipped. 'You can tell the residents

why any deal's off. You have the rest of the night to plan your

explanation. I suggest you make it a good one, because

according to your boyfriend a lot of lives are going to be

devastated. I'd hate for them to blame you, but I suspect they

might.'

'No.' It hurt to breathe suddenly. 'Wait.'

'Well?' The response was uncompromising, the phone still in

his hand.

She looked down at her fingers, laced lightly together in her

lap.

'Gunners Terrace is precious lo me,' she said tautly. 'Perhaps

more than I'd even realised. And so is my eventual freedom.'

She paused. ‘I presume you're also prepared to guarantee

that—in writing?'

'If that's what it takes.' Nick put the phone back in his pocket.

She lifted her head. Met his gaze directly. Unflinchingly.

'Then I'll— do what you want. But you have to give me some

lime—some space—to adjust.'

'And why should I do that?' He sounded almost casually

interested.

She said, quietly and clearly, 'Because I don't want my only

child to be— made in haired. And I don't believe you'd want

that either.'

'You really think you hale me?' Faint, galling amusement in

his voice.

She nodded. 'I know it.'

'So what are you suggesting instead?' he drawled. 'Surely

not—love?'

She winced. 'I thought—some kind of compromise. After all,

you were prepared once lo make allowances— you said so

earlier.'

'How unwise of me.' He was silent for a moment. 'Very well.

I've had a year to practise restraint, so I suppose I can go on

being patient for a while.'

He signalled for the bill, then turned back lo her, the grey eyes

merciless. 'But be warned, darling. Don't push your luck.

‘I have no intention of waiting for ever. Do I make myself

dear?' Somewhere a long way off she heard herself say, 'As

crystal." How she found herself getting up from the table and

going with him out into the night.

The car he drove was new to her—low and sleek, with deep

leather seats into which she sank almost helplessly. Music

played softly, and she recognised that it was Bach-one of me

Brandenburg concertos. It was all persuasively, beguilingly

comfortable. And she was nearly, but not quite , lulled into

acceptance...

She struggled to sit up straight. 'Where are we going?' she

demanded huskily.

'To the hotel,' he said. 'Where else?'

'I'd prefer lo go back to my own flat.'

'Which I'm sure has only a single bed,' Nick returned. 'We'll

be marginally more comfortable at the Majestic, as I'm sure

you'll appreciate.' Cally drew a quick, angry breath. 'But you

said—you promised... Oh, God, I should have known I

couldn't trust you.'

'And I feel the same about you, darling. Did you really think

I'd let you out of my sight?' He shook his head. 'No, Cally.

You're spending the night with me. And, it's not lust, merely a

safely precaution,' he added drily.

'But I have to go to the flat,' she protested. 'There are things I

need—clothes and stuff.'

'If the clothing bears any resemblance lo what you're wearing

now, I suggest you leave it there,' he told her coolly. 'Besides,

I've brought you everything you need. You once had a

trousseau—remember?'

Cally smoothed the cheap material of her skirt over her knees

in a defensive gesture. 'Yes— I remember.' 'You also had a

wedding ring,' he went on. 'Is it still around?'

She stared through the windscreen into the night. 'I—threw it

away.'

'How dramatic,' he said mockingly. 'Wiser to have sold it,

perhaps. You must have needed the cash.'

But I wasn't feeling very wise. Just betrayed, confused and

angry. The words trembled in her mind, but she did not utter

them.

He said, 'I shall have to buy you another.'

She lifted her chin. 'Is that strictly necessary—for such a short

time?'

'It's considered usual.'

'But I thought you weren't interested in conventions,' she said.

'Besides, I shall only throw it away again, when my duty's

done and I claim my freedom.'

'However, while you're living as my wife you'll wear my ring.'

His voice was soft, but there was a note in it that spelled

danger. 'Just as you'll get used to sleeping in my bed. Who

knows? You might even come to enjoy it.' She hesitated.

'How do you intend to explain my sudden return?’

'I don't,' Nick responded coolly. 'It concerns no one but

ourselves.'

That, she thought, her nails curling into the palms of her

hands, was not strictly true on a number of counts— not all of

which she could bring herself to deal with. However, there

was one she needed to mention.

She said tautly, 'I presume you've informed Adele—if she's

still living at the Hall?'

'She isn't,' he said curtly. 'I arranged for her move to the

Dower House months ago, when I still thought you might

return of your own accord.'

She raised her brows. 'That can't have pleased her.'

'Nor did the prospect of finding herself replaced as the

mistress of the house. Once I married, her departure became

inevitable. She knew that.' He slanted a glance at her. 'Or did

you wish to go on sharing a roof with her indefinitely?"

Her mouth tightened. 'No.'

'That's what I thought." He sounded faintly amused. He turned

the car under an archway and slotted it expertly in to a

cramped space in the small hotel car park. As they walked to

the rear entrance Cally was conscious of his hand under her

elbow.

When they reached the desk, she saw the blonde receptionist's

eager smile lake a disappointed downturn when she realised

their most important guest was not alone.

Sorry, darling, but you never had a chance, Cally was tempted

to tell her. He's already spoken for— and not by me.

Along with the key, she saw Nick accept a sheaf of messages,

and then they were walking together to the lift.

As they rode up to the first floor she tried to think of some-

thing she could do or say that would let her off the hook for

tonight at least. She wasn't ready, she thought desperately, for

such a drastic change in her circumstances. She stole a look at

her husband, but his dark face was expressionless.

The bridal suite consisted of a small, nondescript sitting room,

with a writing desk and a television set, and a much larger

bedroom containing a king-size bed with a white quilted satin

coverlet sporting an enormous pink heart in its centre.

In spite of the nightmare scenario ahead of her, Cally knew an

almost overwhelming desire to shriek with laughter. At the

same time she found herself thinking that it was a far cry from

the Virgin Islands, where their original honey moon had been

due to be spent. She tensed inwardly. She couldn't let herself

think like that Allow herself to remember a time when she'd

been a naive girl, wrapped up in her own fledgling dreams and

hopes. Oblivious to the harsh truths of the world around her—

even her small part of it...

'Your overnight case is there.' Nick's voice shocked her back

lo the present, and it’s realities, as he nodded toward s the

luggage stand. 'And the bathroom's through that door. I'll be in

the sitting room, having a nightcap and dealing with my

messages. It should lake about twenty minutes.' He gave her a

brief, formal smile. 'Can I get you anything?'

'No.' Her mouth was dry. Twenty minutes. "Thank you.'

The door closed behind him, and Cally was alone.

Temporarily at least.

She walked over to the bed and sank down on to the appalling

cover, looking around her.

A resourceful person, she thought, should be able lo escape

from this situation—

maybe by knotting sheets together and climbing out of a

window. Except that a loud humming noise and frequent arc

tic blasts suggested that air-conditioning was in use and that

the windows were hermetically sealed.

So it seemed she was committed beyond recall lo this

madness.

Her heart was fluttering against her ribs like a wounded bird,

and her legs were shaking, but there was no point in delaying

where she was, with the minutes passing.

And there seemed little chance that Nick would agree to spend

the night on the sofa in the sitting room, or allow her to do so.

No matter how reluctant she might be, she would have to

share this bed with him.

As for the future—her mind cringed away from its

contemplation.

At least she knew now, with total certainty, why he'd asked

her to marry him in the first place. Not because he'd ever

wanted her in any real way, but because she was young, and

probably fertile, and he needed her to give him a chi Id.

Something the woman he really loved could not provide, she

thought, wincing as all the old pain and anger slashed at her

again.

A year ago she'd been a naive, trusting fool, but she would not

fall into the same trap again. She'd accepted his terms now

and she would adhere lo them. There would be no more non-

sense about imagining herself in love, or using Nick Tempest

as the focus for her pathetic romantic fantasies. He was a

businessman and he was offering her a business deal. Nothing

more, nothing less.

She owed him, and he expected to be repaid. It was as simple

as that.

And while she was with him she would learn to turn a blind

eye to his extra-marilal indiscretions. Steel herself never lo

ask where he was going, or where he had been. And, above

all, never— ever—again follow him anywhere...

Those were matters of priority, and certainly she would be

under no ludicrous illusions about love, marriage and ' happy

ever after' this time around.

She got up and went across to the luggage stand, unzipping

the overnight bag. The exquisite nightgown she'd bought with

such shy hopes a year ago and never worn lay neatly folded

on lop of the other contents. She picked it up an d shook it

out, feeling the soft folds of white chiffon and lace drifting

through her trembling fingers.

Everything in the case was new, in honour of her brand-new

future, including the quilted apricot bag for toiletries with its