His Inherited Bride. JACQUELINE BAIRD

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      A memory of sitting on the paddock fence watching Enrique perform on his horse suddenly surfaced. Rand had strolled up beside her, and put a friendly arm around her waist. ‘Mind you don’t fall, kid,’ he murmured. ‘I don’t want you injured before Ester has a chance to know you or she will have my guts for garters—an English expression…no?’

      She laughed at his funny accent, and then he asked her if she would mind if Ester wrote to her, explaining he had told his stepmother he had met her, and Ester had never known her brother had married or had a daughter until now.

      Jules glibly answered, ‘Yes, fine, but I should warn you I’m not much of a letter-writer.’ She turned her head to look at him; his face was only inches from her own. ‘But I’ll add her to my Christmas card list.’ He ruffled her hair and said thanks and she recalled for a moment being dazzled by his smile, but putting it down to the bright sunshine…

      The restaurant was everything Rand had said and more. A timber building set on stilts and with a long deck stretching out over the Pacific Ocean. They opted to eat outside and Jules took her seat and looked around her in awe. On the edge of a headland the sweeping view of a huge sandy beach and the sea gave the impression of being surrounded by water. ‘This place is incredible.’ She turned shining eyes up to Rand.

      ‘Good, I am glad you approve. Now let me get you a drink. Champagne by way of a celebration, perhaps—it has been a long time.’ One dark brow arched sardonically. ‘Some might say too long’. He still found it incredible she had not turned up for her own father’s funeral, and he wondered what excuse she would come up with. But he was not about to ask her. Not yet…

      He had thought with each month that had passed after he had informed her of the codicil to her father’s will, as she had refused point-blank to have anything to do with it, that maybe the woman had a grain of integrity after all. At least she was consistent in ignoring her father in life and death. But when Jules had contacted his office just a few weeks before the deadline on claiming any inheritance ran out, he had realised cynically her initial refusal had obviously been a ploy not to sound too eager, and make him think better of her.

      Well, it hadn’t worked; it simply confirmed what a hard, selfish woman she was. Carlos had maybe not been a good husband or father, but whether he had deserved a wife who had run out on him within a year of their marriage, taking his daughter with her and then divorcing him, was debatable.

      To give Carlos his due, he had tried to make it up with his daughter years later by welcoming the teenage Jules into his home. When she had pleaded she was old enough to get engaged to Enrique, at the tender age of seventeen, Carlos had not objected, but had given her a big engagement party. The next year he had arranged a huge wedding at considerable expense, only to have his daughter run out on her fiancé, much the same as her mother had run out on him. In fact one could say it was Carlos Diez who had come off worse with his involvement with the English women all down the line.

      Yet here this beautiful woman sat looking as cool as a cucumber, and after all she could get. Well, this time she was in for a rude awakening; Rand was going to make sure of that…

      ‘I was sorry I couldn’t make the funeral, but my mother wasn’t very well.’ Jules chose her words with care. She still had difficulty saying ‘cancer’ out loud, especially to a relative stranger. But she knew exactly what he was referring to by his ‘too long’. She could recognise sarcasm when she heard it. ‘And it was too short a notice to get out of an extremely important commitment I had already made.’ It was the truth; she had promised to stay with her mother while she was in hospital. But she did not want to offend the man when she was hoping to get money out of him so she did not elaborate.

      Never mind her mother, it was probably down to some man, Rand thought cynically. Jules had dressed down her sensational figure, but to the discerning eye she was the epitome of female pulchritude, full breasted, a tiny waist and softly rounded hips plus long, shapely legs. He stirred uncomfortably on his chair, surprised by the stirring in his groin and resenting the effect she had on him, but masking it with a fulsome compliment.

      ‘I understand. An exquisitely beautiful young woman like you must have many more pressing calls on your time,’ he drawled silkily, and turned his attention to the waiter who had miraculously appeared at his side.

      ‘No champagne for me; a soft drink, please,’ Jules said coolly, not rising to the bait as he placed their order with the waiter in fluent Spanish. He really was a many-talented man but he was also a sarcastic swine; she didn’t believe his compliment for a moment. She had no illusions about her looks. Attractive, yes, but ‘exquisitely beautiful’ was overdoing the hyperbole just a tad even to try and charm the dimmest female.

      A wry smile twisted her mouth. Jules considered herself a reasonably intelligent adult woman, with a good career doing what she loved. In life as in business luck and timing was everything. Sadly for her mother, she had had no say in when her illness had struck. Jules could think if only it had been a year or two later, and at her worst moments if only it had been just six weeks sooner, then Jules would not have invested all their capital and the bank loan in the house and business. But her real wish was if only her wonderful mother had never taken ill at all.

      Bad timing… Whatever, the reality was she needed money and she needed it now and, whether she liked it or not, Rand was her only hope. Unfortunately he held the purse strings. She knew the amount she needed would barely dent the value of her father’s estate. But whether this autocratic man would give it to her, she was not so sure. Then any hope Jules had harboured that he might have forgotten about the past was dashed with his next words.

      ‘So.’ Rand returned his attention to her. ‘I have ordered the seafood special; take my word, you will love it. I do.’ He paused, and Jules felt her heart flutter in her breast, hypnotised by the smouldering warmth in his dark eyes. ‘I love this place.’ He leant back and waved an elegant hand in a gesture at the view and looked around. Released from the magnetic pull of his powerful gaze, Jules concentrated on steadying her breathing, but stifled a gasp of outrage as he continued. ‘I must admit I was surprised you gave up the opportunity to live in this wonderful climate with a wealthy father and the prospect of a handsome husband for the doubtful pleasures of the British climate. Dare I assume you have changed your mind?’ he prompted cynically.

      He was doing it again, insulting her; did he take her for a fool or what? ‘No, I have not. People are more important than places,’ Jules said tightly.

      ‘Forgive me for saying so, but that sounds rather strange coming from a girl like you.’

      ‘You know nothing about me,’ Jules shot back, bristling with anger at his implication.

      ‘True.’ Rand leant back in his chair as the waiter appeared with a jug of juice and two glasses, eyeing Jules though narrowed eyes. Amazingly she looked quite genuine in her indignation. He had to admit she was one hell of an actress, and he wondered what else she was good at. He could see the rise and fall of her firm breast beneath the soft linen of her jacket, and again felt a sudden tightening in his groin area he had some difficulty controlling.

      Leaning forward to allow his body to subside, he filled a glass with juice. ‘I am so embroiled in my work, I have trouble keeping track of the side issues.’ Rand straightened and held out the glass of orange juice. ‘But it is good to see you again.’

      Jules felt the colour rise in her cheeks. ‘Side issue’ said it all, which was all she ever had been to her father or any other man. She reached out and took the glass from him, his long fingers accidentally brushing hers, and felt the tingling effect of his touch right up her arm. But as she controlled her shock her green eyes clashed with deep brown. Was it mockery she СКАЧАТЬ