Purchased: His Perfect Wife. HELEN BIANCHIN
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СКАЧАТЬ her, for neglecting to fill him in with the finer details of precisely who she’d owed money to and when it had been due for payment.

      Wolfe pointed at the table. ‘Come and eat while the food is hot.’

      Lara rose to her feet in one fluid movement and automatically loosened the tie holding her hair in place. ‘Give me a few minutes.’

      She collected fresh clothes and attempted to ignore the way her stomach executed a backwards flip as she moved past him.

      He disturbed her more than she was prepared to admit, and there was a sense of temporary relief as she reached the en suite.

      In a matter of minutes she was done, and she emerged feeling better equipped to face whatever the day might bring.

      Lara couldn’t pinpoint the last time she’d had a cooked breakfast, and she slid into a chair as Wolfe joined her at the table.

      Coffee—hot, black and sweet—was liquid ambrosia, and she forked a portion of eggs Benedict, savoured it, then continued eating with renewed appetite.

      ‘First up this morning is a legal appointment,’ Wolfe began. ‘Followed by various real-estate inspections.’

      ‘You intend buying a house?’

      ‘We need somewhere to live.’

      The plural ‘we’ caused sensation to spiral deep inside, and she took a soothing sip of coffee, then carefully placed the cup down onto its saucer. There was the home Darius and Suzanne had shared…

      ‘No,’ Wolfe refuted quietly, accurately reading her thought pattern. ‘That isn’t a consideration.’

      If he insisted on adding to his property portfolio, why should she attempt to argue?

      ‘After lunch we’ll fit in some shopping before I meet with Darius’ managerial staff.’

      He worked fast, she accorded silently. Although what else did she expect?

      Her chin lifted a little as she met his gaze and held it. ‘You could have checked with me first. The restaurant is operating on minimum staff. I have to be there. There’s no one else to take my place at such short notice.’

      Wolfe’s gaze narrowed. ‘Find someone.’

      ‘Sure.’ Her eyes blazed a brilliant blue. ‘I’ll just wave a magic wand and, poof, a sous chef will appear out of nowhere, ready to start—’ she checked her watch ‘—in half an hour.’

      His expression didn’t change, and the smooth silkiness in his voice held a silent warning. ‘Take care of it, Lara.’

      ‘Or you will?’

      One eyebrow lifted in silent cynicism. ‘Yes.’

      Time out for a deep breath or three. ‘Hiring someone,’ she managed with attempted calm, ‘is my responsibility.’

      ‘Make it a priority. A celebrant will conduct our marriage on Sunday morning, after which we fly to New York.’

      Her stomach executed a quick somersault and refused to settle. ‘Excuse me?’

      Wolfe leaned back in his chair and regarded her steadily. ‘You heard.’

      The nerves deep inside pulled tight almost to the point of pain, and she pushed her plate aside. ‘Do I have a choice?’

      ‘No.’

      Succinct, adamant and spoken with an indolence that made her wary.

      ‘Why? My presence in New York will be totally unnecessary. You’ll be wheeling and dealing by day, and—’

      ‘Sharing your bed at night.’

      Did hearts stop? She was willing to swear hers had. What was more, for several long seconds it seemed her whole body shut down. Then she remembered to breathe.

      ‘Payback time,’ she managed. ‘How could I have forgotten?’

      ‘Should I be flattered or flattened?’

      Lara summoned a deliberate smile. ‘Flattened, definitely.’

      His faint laughter sent goosebumps scudding down her spine. A reaction she refused to examine in any detail.

      In order to survive, living with Wolfe would mean adopting a façade. Something she shouldn’t find too difficult, given she’d had practice presenting a sociable mask on the occasion she’d found herself in Wolfe’s presence.

      ‘Finish your coffee.’ He checked his watch. ‘We need to leave.’ Without a further word he crossed to the console and collected a set of keys.

      She wanted to protest, and almost did. Except one look into those dark grey eyes was sufficient warning she couldn’t win.

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