Bargaining with the Billionaire. Robyn Donald

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СКАЧАТЬ ‘I’ve made you all wet—and streaked with lipstick. Have you got a spare shirt here?’

      ‘It doesn’t matter, but yes, I have.’ He lifted her chin and met her eyes. ‘If I think you’re wrong, what will you do?’

      ‘Find a counsellor, I suppose,’ she said drearily. ‘I’ll need it, because…oh, because things have been going wrong since before Ian noticed Peta Grey.’

      ‘What things?’

      Gillian paused. ‘Oh, you might as well know everything. Since we found out that the reason I can’t get pregnant is an infection I caught in my wild youth. I never pretended to be a virgin when we met, but as long as I didn’t rub his face in my love affairs Ian didn’t seem to mind. Discovering why I couldn’t conceive is rubbing his face in it with a vengeance, Curt.’

      ‘I don’t imagine he was a virgin either when he married,’ Curt said forcefully.

      ‘No, but he wasn’t careless enough to let himself be made sterile. Ian wants children, and once we got the results he started pulling away.’ She dragged in a deep breath. ‘He blames me, of course. And like all you men, he’s possessive.’

      ‘I don’t consider myself possessive,’ Curt said brusquely. ‘I don’t share, but that’s not possessiveness.’

      ‘You’ve never loved anyone enough to be possessive.’ His sister gave him a trembling smile. ‘Ian might even still love me, but he wants a family, and he—he might be looking for someone who can give him one.’ She pulled away and finished steadily, ‘Someone who isn’t infertile because she slept around.’

      Astonished, Curt asked, ‘Are you telling me that this Peta Grey is a virgin? How do you know?’

      ‘I don’t. There has been gossip, but apparently her father was a very controlling man—he didn’t let her go out with boys. Her mother was delicate so Peta left school the day she turned sixteen, and acted as nurse, housekeeper and farmhand until her parents were killed in a car accident a few years later.’

      ‘You seem to have been gossiping to a purpose.’ Curt’s distaste sharpened his voice.

      Gillian shrugged. ‘I heard you say once, Know your enemy. In a way I feel sorry for the girl. She’s spent her life on that little farm working all hours of the day and night to survive.’ She looked up, entreaty plain in her lovely face. ‘I don’t wish her any ill; I just don’t want her to wreck my marriage.’

      ‘Has it occurred to you that if Ian wants her, you’ll be better off without him?’ Curt knew it had to be said, even though his bluntness drove the colour from her face. ‘He made vows. If he breaks them, will you ever trust him again?’

      Trust Curt to voice her worst fear. Gillian had to stop her hands from twisting together in futile terror. ‘I need time,’ she told him intensely. ‘I love him, and if there’s any chance that he still loves me I’ll fight this—this fling. He’s a sophisticated mature man, and she’s a…well, she’s a nothing!’

      ‘If he thinks he’s in love with her, any hint of interference might persuade him to leave you.’

      ‘You always did make me face consequences,’ she said in a low voice, ‘and yes, I accept that. If he does leave, I— I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll deal with it. It’s the wondering and waiting and uncertainty that’s tearing me apart.’

      ‘I’m not a miracle worker,’ Curt warned her.

      ‘You’ll fix it,’ she said eagerly. ‘You’ve always done what you set your mind to. I have complete faith in you!’

      That, he knew. Her faith had cost her dearly. ‘What exactly did you have in mind?’

      Gillian rushed on, ‘Couldn’t you make a play for her? If she’s like ninety-eight per cent of womankind she’ll fall at your feet in worshipful delight.’

      ‘You grossly overestimate my effect on your sex,’ he said drily. ‘Is that what you want me to do?’

      Her anxious eyes searched his face. ‘I—well, probably not. Nobody, especially not Ian, would believe that you’d find a girl like her attractive.’ She gave a twisted smile. ‘Your preference for beautiful women is too well known. But there must be some way out of this, because I’m certain she’s not in love with him.’

      ‘How do you know?’ Curt asked ironically. ‘And don’t tell me it’s women’s intuition.’

      ‘Ha! That’s rich coming from you!’ Now that he’d agreed she was confident again, her eyes gleaming and her smile reckless. ‘Everyone believes you dragged Dad’s sinking firm out of the mire and into the stratosphere with brilliance and sheer force of will, but you told me once that most of the time you followed your gut instinct.’

      ‘And sometimes I ignored it,’ he said sardonically.

      ‘Well, intuition’s got nothing to do with this. You got to the top because as well as being brutally clever you’re good at reading body language,’ she said crisply. ‘So am I. And her body language tells me Peta Grey is not in love with Ian. She wants out of being stuck away on a little farm miles from the nearest village, with no money, no prospects except hard work, and no chance of meeting a decent man. Except married ones!’ she finished bitterly.

      Curt glanced down at the photographs, his gaze caught and held by Peta Grey’s challenging face with its lush, firmly disciplined mouth. His protective affection for Gillian warred with a darker, more subtle instinct that warned him of danger if he didn’t keep out of this.

      But looking after his sister was a habit too strong to be broken. He leaned over and wrote something in his desk diary. ‘All right, I’ll see you next week.’

      She let out a long sigh. ‘Thank you,’ she said in a voice that quivered. ‘I’ll be eternally grateful.’

      ‘I’m not promising anything,’ he said abruptly. ‘Can I take you out to lunch?’

      ‘I’d love to go out to lunch with you, but I’m already booked with a couple of old girlfriends. Besides, I bet you’ve got some high-powered meeting with important people.’

      ‘Guilty,’ he agreed, with the rare smile that dazzled even his sister. ‘But I’d have cut it short if you needed me.’

      She came up to him in a small, scented rush and pulled his head down to kiss his lean cheek, then rested her head on his chest for a second. ‘I knew I could rely on you,’ she said, and gave him a gallant smile and left.

      Frowning, Curt watched her go, then called his secretary. ‘Have John Stevens contact me as soon as possible,’ he said, hard eyes missing nothing of the traffic heading towards the magnificently columned Museum. Shining like a white temple in the summer sun, Auckland’s tribute to its war dead crowned a hill that commanded the city and the harbour.

      At any other time he’d look forward to a week on Tanekaha, but even apart from the loss of time with Anna he didn’t expect to enjoy this stay. He swivelled and picked up the photographs again, gazing not at his brother-in-law but at the woman so nearly in Ian’s arms. The sun shimmered in lazy golden fire across her head; at her feet he could see a hat, as though an ungentle hand had pushed it off.

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