Riley’s Billionaire (6 page)

He had been so concerned for Amelia, Jack hadn’t so much as glanced at Riley until now. She sat quietly, breathing in quick, short gasps, her lower lip trembling, her eyes wide.

Jack touched her arm. ‘Riley?’

He’d been so angry with Patrick, he hadn’t bothered to consider maybe Riley had been offended.

‘How...?’ She didn’t seem able to finish her thought.

Jack bristled. If Patrick had seen Riley’s body enough to know she held scars or tattoos or whatever, in places only a bikini or nakedness would reveal, then the two of them had been intimate, and the thought nearly pushed Jack over the brink of sanity.

He held his anger in check as a wave of realisation hit him. Amelia had choked because she knew it was possible. Patrick had more than likely played with Amelia’s grandchildren twenty years ago — they’d have all been close to the same age, with Patrick being a little older. As for Riley, what must she be thinking? Wondering? Of course, she hadn’t been with Patrick as an adult. Jack would’ve detected it. Riley wasn’t that good at hiding her emotions. Those eyes were the window to her soul.

‘I’ve never showed — I haven’t told — I mean, how could he have known?’ She looked at Jack, frightened, beseeching him for an answer.

Jack stood, lifted her from her chair, and held her tightly. ‘Riley, it’s probably just a coincidence. Many people probably have scars on their abdomen, but you’ve nothing to worry about.’ He kissed the top of her head, feeling her tremble.

He had questions of his own, but they’d have to keep until he and Riley were upstairs in their suite. This wasn’t the place or the time for intimate conversation.

‘What do you say we have dessert delivered to our room?’ he asked. ‘It’s our restaurant after all, just across the lawn from us, and we’re talking a matter of a few minutes to have someone bring us our food.’

She said nothing, but Jack felt her nod,

Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be that he and Amelia keep secrets from her. But at what cost? If Patrick was close to discerning the truth, how quickly would someone else who had known Riley as a child? And what if that person still meant her harm?

Riley was tired. She kicked off her shoes and placed them in the closet Jack showed her was hers. So many rows of empty shelves and rows of hangers without clothes. She’d never fill them. Sure, Jack had sent most of the purchases they’d made in Sydney ahead, so the closet wasn’t barren, but there was no way she’d ever have enough things to make this closet as orderly and packed as Jack’s.

Patrick’s words troubled her. She was positive she’d never met the man, so how could he know a detail about her she’d never told anyone? In fact, except for the medical staff at the orphanage and the doctor she’d used in Sydney, nobody knew about that scar, and she hadn’t been able to tell her own physician how she’d got it.

Lucky guess? But how many women had not only a scar, but a jagged one on their stomach?

Jack was particularly attentive after dinner. He’d insisted she change into a dressing gown, a lovely peignoir. She figured he must’ve purchased it when she wasn’t watching.

‘I thought it a fitting gift for my wife.’ He nodded his pleasure at the baby blue fabric. ‘Come, sit on the balcony. Our tiramisu and coffee should arrive any minute.’

Riley touched her gown. ‘This is lovely. Thank you.’

Jack smiled. ‘I’m glad you like it. I was afraid you’d think it too...’ He shrugged.

‘Personal?’

‘Perhaps. I mean, we only met a few weeks ago.’ He grinned. ‘But we
are
married.’

Riley chuckled. ‘You’ve purchased underwear for me — I’ve molested yours, as you said. For two people who seem to have opposite views on family values, I’d say we’re doing okay.’

‘Pardon?’ He looked offended. ‘Have I questioned your values? And what do you mean we differ on family?’

Riley was tired and at the point where she didn’t much care what came out of her mouth. Her head was full of new memories, old pains, and questions with no answers. ‘Whenever you’re around Amelia, I sense your affection for her, yet you never talk about your own family in France, without giving short answers to my questions or changing the subject.’

He cocked his head. ‘I wasn’t aware. So how is that different from your situation? You said you have no family.’

‘Didn’t say I didn’t want one. You have everything: living parents, brothers and a sister. Not to mention your strong connection with Amelia, which is more familial than friendly. I’d give anything to have that.’

His voice was soft. ‘You have it now as my wife. You’ll meet the French connection soon enough. My mother and sister will probably fly here during planting season to spend a few weeks. They feel bad they couldn’t make it to our reception.’

‘When’s the last time you saw them?’

Jack hesitated, seemingly reluctant to answer at first. ‘Maybe three years ago. I don’t exactly remember.’

Riley was about to respond
That’s my point — hardly close
when someone knocked on their door.

Soon Jack was back carrying a wooden tray with dessert and coffee. He poured them each a cup of the steaming liquid and placed her dessert before her. It looked delicious.

‘Janet, the chef, makes her own mascarpone, but she refuses to tell anyone how.’ He smiled, aiming his fork for his slice of cake.

They ate in silence until they were almost finished. Then Jack wiped his lips with his napkin and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. ‘Do you mind?’

‘Not at all. I may even join you.’ Riley shoved her plate aside.

‘I wasn’t aware you smoked.’ He lit two cigarettes and passed her one.

Riley accepted the cigarette and inhaled — too sharply — and coughed. ‘I just started.’

It was Jack’s turn to choke. ‘Why in on earth would you do that?’

Riley wasn’t willing to admit that she wanted something to do with her hands so she wouldn’t feel so inadequate just sitting there doing nothing. ‘Why not? You’re doing it.’ She tried taking another drag, but her heart wasn’t in it, and her throat rebelled against the smoke.

Jack’s free hand reached for one of hers. ‘Riley, don’t change because you think it will please me. Trust me,
chérie,
you are perfect as you are.’

She felt anything but. She wasn’t accustomed to the ungodly amounts of money these people seemed to possess. She’d never slept in a bedroom that was as big as the apartment she’d just vacated. And at the moment she felt exposed, even though her attire completely covered her bra-less breasts, torso, legs and ankles.

‘You’ve had quite a day.’ Jack stated the obvious. ‘Your first meeting with Amelia, she faints. Your first dinner with the family, and you’re put on the spot by Patrick.’

Riley glanced up sharply. He’d noticed. She trembled, and it felt as if all colour drained from her body. ‘Yes.’

‘Riley, what was that all about? Do you have such a scar?’ He wasn’t probing, he sounded sincerely concerned.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. How could she voice to Jack what had only occurred to her as she was changing clothes? As unlikely as it was, Patrick might know something about her she didn’t know about herself.

‘I don’t understand what’s happening. How could he have known?’

Jack’s handsome face reflected a montage of emotions, everything from concern to anger. Certainly distress. She could barely ascertain her own feelings, much less his.

He answered her with what sounded more like an ultimatum than a reasonable response. ‘I don’t want you talking with Patrick again. Not...not alone, anyway.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because he upset you. Maybe you remind him of an old girlfriend — he’s had plenty.’

Riley shook her head. ‘An old girlfriend who just happens to have a scar like mine?’

‘Then it doesn’t make sense, does it?’ Jack sounded strange, almost jealous. ‘Unless you’ve been with him in the past...’

Riley set her cigarette in their ashtray and pounded her fists on the table. ‘I grew up in a Catholic orphanage and never dated until my late teens. Despite your catching me a bit tipsy on wine earlier, I rarely ever drink, and when I do, I never lose consciousness, so I’d
know
if a man had seen me naked. I can count on one hand the number of close friends I’ve had, and none of them were male. And for your information, that scar was with me when I entered the orphanage!’

Angry, she shoved her chair back and stood. She stormed to where Jack sat and lifted her gown upwards over her right thigh, up past her knickers to her waist. ‘Does that look like a new scar to you?’

He stared only for a moment, then his hands shot out to capture hers, and he unfolded her tightly clenched fingers clutching the gown, allowing it to drop back into place. ‘You are shaking,
chérie
. I believe you.’

Jack wrapped both arms about her hips and drew her closer. He kissed her stomach through the thin material and rested his head where he’d just kissed her.

Riley could feel every intake and release of his breath, warm, as if no material separated them. He completely stole her thunder, all the fear and anger that had roiled within. All the indignant words left unsaid. Reflexes were automatic — her hands clutching his head and smoothing his hair. His hands moulding her hips, drawing her as close as possible until he could bury his face in the folds of her gown.

‘Jack, I don’t understand how he could know such a thing. The doctor at the orphanage said I must’ve had at least five stitches, but I don’t remember receiving them.’

He raised his head and looked at her. ‘We need to talk, but first there’s something I must ask Amelia to do.’

Jack wasn’t accustomed to feeling the way he felt right now. When he’d met Riley, she was indeed small but didn’t appear to need anyone defending her. She had attitude in spades, despite her size. He’d wanted to comfort her when Amelia fainted, because Riley had asked if it was because of her somehow, as if meeting her had distressed the older woman. If he were honest, he’d have to admit to being jealous when Patrick flirted with her, and jealousy was foreign to Jack. So okay, he was protective and jealous.

The scar is what confused him. It wasn’t large, wasn’t ugly, and it was obvious the physical pain had occurred decades earlier. But the thought of such a fragile young girl being hurt — and seeing the delectable woman she’d become with her lacy panties in his face...he was gob-smacked. For the first time in his life, he was unable to pigeonhole his feelings, and he couldn’t fathom why. They were not lovers, despite the marriage certificate, so why did he suddenly itch to beat the bloody hell out of whomever had caused her injury? It was as if he were spoiling for a fight and Patrick was the only man around to take his anger out on, but that action would accomplish nothing other than to upset Amelia.

He had to speak with Amelia, get her to show him the photographs she’d mentioned. Right now, however, his attention was focused upon his wife, who sat on the edge of his bed —
theirs,
he reminded himself — looking as forlorn as a lost puppy.

Jack sat beside her. ‘What is it,
chérie?
Are you still thinking of the scar? It doesn’t look that bad.’

Riley crossed her arms, not angrily, more like she was hugging herself. She shook her head slowly, as if pondering something. ‘Karma.’

He wanted to grab her and hug her, but something told him it was more important to just listen.

She took her time, her words coming out fragmented, as if they were chosen specifically as ingredients for a pie. ‘Choices. Causes and effects. Judgement. And I’m wondering about a lot of things. It’s my wedding night, and...’ She looked up. ‘I’m not depressed because we aren’t, you know...’ Her shoulders hunched in a miniscule shrug. ‘For some reason, here we are, and instead of man and wife, we’re strangers. I feel more alone than I’ve ever felt in my life.’ Her eyes filled with tears.

‘Oh,
chérie!’

‘No’ She pushed him away. ‘It’s not that, really. This isn’t about us and it should be. It’s about me. I’m wondering now if I’m the reason I’m orphaned. Did I somehow slip away from whoever was watching me? Was I wild?’

‘At three years old?’ Jack had to jump into the middle of whatever tirade she was inflicting on herself. ‘Maybe you just need to talk to someone.’

Riley exploded with a raw laugh. ‘Don’t you think I’ve been to psychiatrists, doctors, everyone but a Maori witch doctor? I have no answers! I-I need...and...when I finally find someone who tells me something he couldn’t possibly know unless he did know me, you tell me not to talk to him!’

‘He got lucky, Riley, it’s a coincidence.’

Mon Dieu!
Jack stood and paced, afraid to touch her for fear he’d shake her. Did she think he would stop her from looking for her family? He’d found them for her!

Or had he? He certainly hadn’t told Riley. Hell, he hadn’t even proven his theory. Maybe it was time he did.

‘Get your clothes on.’ He knew his voice was hard, cold, not comforting, and she was hurting so badly.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

‘To talk to Amelia. There’s something she has that might put an end to your worries.’

Not that she’d ever given it much thought, but this was so not how Riley had imagined spending her wedding night. As a young girl, she’d been more concerned with finding her family. As a teenager, she’d matured quickly and realised early that she was truly on her own, that if she was ever to get ahead, earn a living, make a home for herself, she needed an education and skills for everything from cleaning to doing her own taxes.

Riley swore to never allow herself the indulgence of feeling as if she’d missed out by not having a family. She had embraced her life with the Sisters of Grace and the other children, made friends, done her chores, learned her lessons; she emerged proud of herself and her accomplishments.

Now...she was smack in the middle of a chaotic ocean of emotions she didn’t understand, surrounded by people who appeared wonderful and giving but who were, nonetheless, strangers. She wasn’t prepared her for this. A husband who didn’t love her. Another man she didn’t remember who seemed to know her. Wealth beyond imagination that afforded her clothes, jewellery, and comforts she’d never possessed. Money she certainly didn’t feel entitled to, even though she’d bargained for it.