Falling for her Convenient Husband. Jessica Steele

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      That ‘little one’ saved his remark from being as wounding as it would otherwise have been—and then they both heard the sound that told them that her father was coming up the stairs.

      With the light of battle in his eyes, Nathan grabbed up his jacket and went out to confront him. Phelix hated rows, confrontation, but it started the moment her father saw Nathan coming from her bedroom.

      ‘What the hell game do you think you’re playing?’ Edward Bradbury roared.

      ‘I might well ask you the same question!’

      ‘I checked—you married her.’ There was a satisfied note in her father’s voice.

      ‘I kept my side of the bargain,’ Nathan agreed coldly.

      ‘Hard luck!’

      ‘You’re saying that you never had any intention of handing over that cheque?’

      ‘I thought you’d have twigged before now,’ her father gloated—and that was when Phelix discovered she had more backbone than she had thought. Which made it impossible for her to sit there and listen to the way her father, so careless of her, was so blatantly pleased with himself. ‘You can forget all about getting a cheque from me,’ he crowed.

      ‘Father!’ Phelix rushed from her room and out to the landing, ashamed, disgusted, and never more embarrassed to have such a parent. ‘You can’t possibly—’

      ‘Don’t you dare tell me what I can and cannot do!’ her father bellowed.

      ‘But you owe—’

      ‘I owe him nothing! He can forget about the money, and—’

      ‘And you, sir,’ Nathan cut across—furiously, ‘can shove your money!’ And somehow or other—perhaps in the thinking time during the long hours of his wait, perhaps with Phelix offering him the money she was due—Nathan seemed to sense now, when he hadn’t seen it before, that there was more in this for Edward Bradbury than allowing his daughter to have her own money. ‘And while you’re about it,’ he went on, his eyes glinting fury, ‘you can forget about the annulment too!’

      That stopped Edward Bradbury dead in his tracks. ‘What are you saying?’ he demanded, looking more shaken than at any time Phelix had ever known.

      ‘Exactly what it sounds as if I’m saying!’ Nathan Mallory stood up to him.

      Phelix saw her father’s glance dart slyly to her bedroom—and saw unadulterated fury sour his expression, none too sweet before. ‘Is this true?’ he turned to demand of his nightdress-clad daughter, his voice rising to a screaming roar when she was not quick enough to answer him. ‘Is this true?’ Hot colour flared to her face. She might be naïve in certain areas, but she knew what he was asking. ‘Is it?’ he shouted.

      Her throat felt suddenly dry. She wasn’t sure what was happening here, but by the sound of it—if she’d got it right—Nathan wanted to score off her father by letting him think they had been—lovers.

      Colour flared to her face again. Even her ears felt hot. But just then she truly felt that, in the light of her father’s conduct, she owed more loyalty to Nathan, the man she had married, than to her father.

      ‘If you’re asking have I slept with Nathan since our marriage, Father, then the answer is yes. Yes, I have,’ she answered. She did not dare look at Nathan as she said it, but realised full well what the huge lie implied—just as she realised that she must have said the right thing.

      Because without a word to her Nathan, his chin jutting, leaned to her father, told him to, ‘Put that in your dishonourable drum and bang it, Bradbury,’ and walked down the stairs and out of the house.

      And that was the last time she had seen him. Though even with her father’s plan for the marriage annulment scuppered it had not prevented Edward Bradbury from searching for an alternative route to get the marriage annulled. He’d still been nefariously plotting when, a few days later, Phelix had discovered exactly why that annulment was so important to him.

      Feeling sickened that her own flesh and blood could care so little for her that he could so deliberately attempt to cheat her, Phelix had lost what little respect she’d had for her father. For the first time ever she had dug her heels in and refused to listen to any further talk of an annulment, or for that matter a divorce.

      Had Nathan wanted a divorce or an annulment she would have agreed at any time. But he had not made any representation to that effect.

      The church clock in front of her chiming the quarter hour brought Phelix back to the present.

      Knowing she had to get back to the conference, she jumped up from the sun lounger, her thoughts promptly shooting back to Nathan Mallory. The night of their wedding was the last time she had seen him or had had any contact with him until today. She remembered his gentleness, his arm about her…

      Stop it! She made her way to the conference knowing she was going to have to stop drifting off to relive matters that had taken place so long ago. She supposed it was just seeing Nathan again so unexpectedly that had set her off.

      It was for sure she would have given Davos a very wide berth had she thought for a moment that he would be here this week. She had been aware, of course, that Mallory and Mallory had long since pulled themselves out of the financial crater they had been in. They were now one of the most top-notch companies in the business. But she had been certain that the heads of such large companies would not be bothered with this week’s conference, but would be circling around from next week, when the big noises from JEPC Holdings would be leading the show.

      And yet, as she entered the conference centre, did it matter that Nathan Mallory was here? He had said hello and that was the end of it.

      Nevertheless, as she spotted Duncan and Chris and made her way over to them, she could not help but be glad that, although still slender, she had filled out a little, had curves in the right places, and had developed a sense of style that suited her.

      She took her seat and noticed Nathan Mallory seated some way away. She had done nothing either about an annulment or a divorce from him. And since she had not received any papers to sign from him, she could only assume that—although he was now more than financially able to support a wife—there could not be anyone in particular in his life.

      After striving to concentrate on what the present speaker was talking about—‘Strategy and Vision’—she was glad when they broke for refreshments. She told Chris she was going outside for some air, and made haste before Ross Dawson should waylay her.

      It was a beautiful day, sunny and too lovely to be stuck indoors. She strolled out into the adjacent park and felt as near content as at any time in her life. She ambled on, in no hurry, pausing to bend and read the inscription on a monument in tribute to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who had apparently brought the new sport of skiing to the attention of the world by skiing over the mountain from Davos to Arosa.

      No mean feat, she was thinking, when a well remembered voice at the back of her asked, ‘Enjoying your freedom?’

      She straightened, but knew who it was before she turned around and found herself looking up—straight into the cool grey eyes of Nathan Mallory. ‘I didn’t know you’d be here!’ she exclaimed without thinking.

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