Riley’s Billionaire (12 page)

He obviously thought she’d lost her mind. He stopped abruptly, stared down at her, then without a word proceeded to their room. Once there, he opened the double doors for her then followed her inside.

Closing the door with his foot, Jack turned to her and set their belongings on the floor. ‘I don’t think it’s such a good idea. Have you ever been inside a prison?’

‘You know I haven’t. For that matter, you seem to know more about me than I do. What could it hurt? He’ll be handcuffed, or on the other side of some glass partition, I’d imagine. Not like he can hurt me now.’

Jack led her to the bed and began removing her shoes, then her socks. When he’d finished, he took care of his own.

She wished he’d say something, not just sit brooding. ‘Jack...’

‘No. And if you try going without me, you’ll be sorry, Riley.’

Not only did her husband have facts she didn’t, it appeared he was intuitive as well and knew her inside and out. He also wasn’t above threatening her.

She set her jaw stubbornly. ‘It’s my life, we’re dealing with. My past and maybe my future.’

He held her hands in his. ‘Look at me, Riley. I’ll share any information I have with you, anything you want and probably some you don’t, but don’t ask me to put you in jeopardy. I can’t.’

He looked so tired, and his eyes were indeed troubled. Riley felt bad for pushing him, but damn it was hard having this new information and not being able to do something about it.

Jack released her hands and lay on his back, legs dangling off the bed. ‘I’d do anything to help you, but that prison is no place for a woman and from what I’ve heard, it’s not much of one for a man.’

He rubbed his face with his palms, and Riley took the moment to flop onto her stomach, facing him.

‘Promise me you won’t try anything stupid?’ he asked.

It took all her will power to grant him peace. ‘Then tell me, Jack, where we go from here. I refuse to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder.’

He propped himself on his elbows. ‘Don’t you feel safe here?’

She sighed in exasperation. ‘I do, but you can’t keep me bottled up like some hothouse plant. I’ll have to leave Cadigal Valley on occasion, don’t you think?’

He nodded. ‘With me by your side.’

‘As my body guard?’

‘As your husband.’

‘Aaaargh!’ Riley pitched herself full frontal on the bed, face buried in the bedcovers, as she’d done on the bed in Newcastle. The man was impossible.

Jack stroked her back. ‘Don’t give up on me, Riley. Believe in me when I tell you we’ll get to the bottom of this. It’s just that I’d rather we do it together. Now that you know, it’s something we can work on instead of worry about, and I promise you will know everything I do when I do.’

One shower and two cups of hot tea later, Riley joined Amelia, Patrick, his parents, and Jack in the conservatory, where only two nights before their wedding reception had been held.

She liked Brian, who welcomed her with a hug and seemed relieved she’d been found. Patrick’s mother, Sharon, was another matter. She was haughty, almost disdainful, barely civil, but Riley had gone to school with girls like her. Lip service smiles and superior attitudes. Perhaps Sharon was simply suspicious, didn’t believe Riley could possibly be their long-lost relative.

Maybe she thinks I’m out to defraud them.
Riley sat on a settee with her husband standing behind her, gently touching her shoulders as if reassuring her they’d get through the ordeal.

Patrick and his parents seemed close enough, but yet another undercurrent told Riley not all was well between them. Whereas, he’d been pleasant, joking, and teasing with her, now Patrick was more aloof. If she didn’t know differently, Riley would swear he was related to Jack instead of her.

Tedious as the evening seemed, they got through dinner without drama, and cocktails on the terrace later went smoothly until Sharon pulled a small silver case from the clutch bag she carried then lit a cigarette and stood.

‘Riley. I’d like a word with you in private, dear.’ With a nod of her head, the older woman indicated Riley should follow her.

The others didn’t seem to notice, except for Patrick. He watched, his normally jovial disposition suddenly soured.

‘Mother, I’m sure Riley is tired and ready for bed.’

Not to be deterred, Sharon insisted. ‘She can surely spare ten minutes. We haven’t really had the chance to reacquaint ourselves.’

Riley was torn. She wondered if Patrick’s mother had loved her at one time and, as she said, simply wanted to catch up. There didn’t seem to be any danger of something happening if they were strolling the terrace and chatting.

‘It’s okay, Patrick,’ Riley said. ‘I am tired, but sleep can wait awhile longer.’

Once they were out of earshot of the others, Sharon motioned for Riley to lean against the terrace wall with her. ‘I’m curious, darling. Did Jack propose to you before or after you found out you might be Amelia’s granddaughter?’

Caught off guard, Riley took a deep breath, mindful of anything she said. What she preferred was to verbally blast the nosy witch, who seemed bent on causing trouble. But what if Sharon knew things about her...and Jack...that Riley didn’t?

‘Everything happened so quickly,’ Riley explained. ‘You know how things are when you meet someone and fall in love. Time takes a back seat. So I’m not really sure.’ She frowned, hoping Sharon would drop the subject.

‘My son seems taken with you. Pity he wasn’t the one to find you.’ Sharon took a long drag from her tobacco. ‘You know, he helped Amelia, and the two of them searched for years without so much as a clue. Don’t you think it’s strange that Jack’s the one who found you?”

Riley shrugged. ‘Maybe he simply had better detectives.’

Sharon’s eyes narrowed. ‘Money does have advantages, doesn’t it?’ Her gaze swept Riley’s figure.

Riley had worn one of the new dresses Jack purchased, a simple yet elegant sheath with matching sweater. Surely, Sharon wasn’t suggesting Riley had married Jack for
his
money.

Family or not, this woman was getting on Riley’s nerves. She had a cramp with Sharon’s name on it.

She rubbed her shoulders. ‘I’m getting a bit chilly, and Patrick was right — I am tired.’

Riley turned to go, but not before the other woman grabbed her arm.

Sharon opened her mouth to speak, and her face was hard. Suddenly her expression softened, and she eased the hold she had on Riley. ‘If you are who the others think you are, you’re my niece, and I’m worried for your safety. That’s all. I don’t trust Jack — never have. If he’d been around at the time of your disappearance, I’d be even more worried.’

Riley defended her husband. ‘Jack has been kind to me, and if not for him, I wouldn’t even know about the Fitzgerald children, I’d never have met Amelia.’

Sharon released Riley’s arm. ‘You don’t call her grandmother?’

‘We don’t know if I have that right. We won’t know anything until the blood tests are back.’

Riley groaned inwardly. She hadn’t even taken the bloody tests. And now Sharon had a self-satisfied smile on her face.

‘So it’s come to that already.’ Sharon nodded. ‘Joe always had a soft spot for you. It appears Amelia does as well.’

Sharon’s words were tantamount to an admission that she, too, believed Riley was a Fitzgerald.

Riley felt as if she were still in school and asking permission to leave. ‘Is that all?’

‘Not quite.’ Sharon looked about, as if measuring the distance to see if anyone else might hear their conversation. ‘Watch your back. If someone meant to harm you before, they’re probably still out there.’ She reached into her glittery evening bag and pulled out a business card. ‘My cell number is on the back. Call if you need me.’

Watch your back.
Riley had heard, thought, or imagined those words or a derivative thereof so often during the past few days that she could easily slip into paranoia. While no attempts had been made on her life, no one had even been rude to her, much less threatened her in any way, but she felt off balance.

Had it only been a few short weeks ago that she’d been carefree, broke but hopeful, alone yet secure? Every
poor little rich girl
biography she’d read, every television show or movie about someone trying to kill or undermine someone with money suddenly haunted her.

This is madness. I won’t give in to it. I won’t.

Was there no-one she could even confide in?

Jack didn’t trust Patrick. Sharon didn’t trust Jack. Amelia would definitely tell Jack if she knew Riley left to visit Gerald Frost in prison. Patrick would tell his mother or father. Even the servants couldn’t be trusted. James was Jack’s man, Janet had told Riley of things she probably shouldn’t have mentioned, so if she’d talk to Riley, she might talk to someone else.

You should have kept in better contact with your friends.
Riley had no one to blame but herself for being so alone.

She said her goodnights to the others and made her way back to her bedroom. Once there, she put on a nightgown and settled into bed, still troubled by her conversation with Sharon.

His wife was still awake when he reached their room. Jack was glad. While he had no intentions of doing more than holding her while she fell asleep, he knew he’d still have a hard time not thinking of her, wanting her.

He felt her eyes upon him as he undressed. Ordinarily, that would have been a major turn-on. With Riley, he might’ve even considered doing a striptease or something to get her in the mood for play. Tonight he felt only relief that the day was over and all was well.

Riley, it seemed, was comfortable with his presence. She turned to face him as he climbed between the sheets.

Jack experienced one of the moments men he knew all seemed to hate. Did he hold her, kiss her, comfort her, or was it more important to wait and let her make the first move?

Sexual politics suck.
He kept his cool, didn’t look for encouragement that might not be there, faced her as patiently as possible.

The next thing he knew, his sweet little wife pounced on him. Tossed aside the sheet and blanket and straddled him.

‘Riley?’

‘I had to get your attention. You seem a million miles away, and we never finished our talk earlier.’ She thumped him on the chest. ‘I don’t like you dictating to me who I can and cannot speak with — like Patrick.’

He nodded, confused but willing to work with her. ‘Understandable. But can you see this from my perspective?’

‘Yes and no.’ Riley took a deep breath. ‘All my life I’ve wanted a family, a real family. You’ll never know how much I struggled with accepting your offer, because...because...’ Tears welled in her eyes, and she brushed them aside, obviously frustrated. ‘Because what you offered was a chance to have my own family, but only on your terms. I thought I could agree — I did agree. I signed the papers. But now...with Amelia and Patrick, and even his dad and his weird mum, there’s a chance for me to belong. And you’ve decided I can’t.’

Jack squirmed beneath her, partly out of empathy, partly because his wife’s body so connected to his was disconcerting, and he knew if he didn’t extricate himself, he’d be doomed. And Riley didn’t appear to be angling for a sexual encounter, just one of a meeting of the minds.

He lifted her from him and sat facing her on the bed. ‘I sense you’re unhappy with me for more reasons than my wish that you not speak with Patrick alone.’

‘Well, yeah.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Sharon asked if you knew I might be related to Amelia before or after you...proposed, if that’s an accurate term for how we got together.’

‘I see. What did you tell her?’ A knot formed in his stomach. He already knew what Sharon had implied to Riley, that he’d only married her for her inheritance.

‘I wanted to tell her it was none of her business, but I gave some lame response — I don’t remember exactly what I said.’

He set his jaw. ‘And you’re wondering if Sharon is stirring up trouble or looking after your best interests.’

Riley folded her arms across her chest. ‘I don’t really care at this point. I’d just like to move on with my life, and I’d like to be sure I can trust my husband.’

‘Ah.’ The unintended barb tore at his heart.
She doesn’t trust me, or she wouldn’t have mentioned it.

‘What can I do to reassure you?’
Give me something to go on, Riley, because I damn sure don’t know what to do without at least a hint.

Before he could get his mouth open, she leaned over and kissed him. Hard. When she’d finished, she stared.

‘Jack, if you find you have any attraction whatsoever to me, now would be a good time to tell me.’

Stunned and not as tired as he’d supposed he was, Jack lifted her back to her previous perch on his stomach. His hands stroked her back, sides, and finally her breasts. And to his amazement, she let him.

Riley moaned softly as he caressed her, melting with his touch, her soft surrender almost more than he could bear without throwing her on her back and doing what he’d longed to do since he’d first tasted her sweetness.

‘Ah,
chérie
, come here.’ He pulled her face toward his again. It took all his power to be gentle, when he wanted so badly to devour her, but he kissed her lips, her face, then her throat, his mouth trailing her cheekbones, the column of womanly neck, the perfect hollow at the base of her throat. His tongue dipped, tasted, went back for more.

He murmured to her in French, barely aware of what he said. Heat built between them. He was on fire for her. Consumed. His lower body ached to possess her, but he forced himself to go slowly, take his time.

She lifted her arms and he removed her gown, exposing her to his sight, touch, and taste. She was a delicate morsel to be savoured, a bit of heaven he possessed. He lifted her and kissed the scar on her stomach she’d received as a child.

Riley moaned as he set her aside momentarily.

‘All in good time,
chérie .’
He quickly removed his own clothing and this time when he lay on his back, their bare skin kissed. The soft curls of her femininity against his body drove him over the edge, and he could hold back no longer.