Bride, Bought and Paid For. Helen Bianchin

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      The faint burr of his phone intruded, and he picked it up, listened, offered a curt instruction, then he ended the call.

      There was little to be gained from his expression, and she didn’t even attempt to hazard a guess as she bore his measured scrutiny.

      ‘I have an important meeting scheduled.’ He paused fractionally. ‘Your answer, Romy?’

      This was it, she recognized with a sense of fatalism. She’d come this far and would gain much—at considerable personal cost—if she agreed to the deal. A deal which didn’t need to be a life sentence, for marriage carried an escape clause. There was always the option of divorce.

      Her eyes sparked brilliant blue fire. ‘Yes…damn you.’

      For a brief second she thought she glimpsed humour in those dark eyes, then it was gone.

      ‘I don’t recall you being quite so verbally explicit,’ Xavier drawled and watched as she made a concentrated attempt to rein in her anger.

      ‘It’s the effect you have on me.’ Calm, she had to remain calm. Difficult when she was filled with mixed emotions…not one of them good.

      ‘I need a contact phone number before you walk out the door.’ His voice was like silk and sent her stress levels up a few notches.

      ‘I’ll leave it with your PA.’

      Xavier withdrew a card and handed it to her. ‘I prefer to keep my personal life and business matters separate.’

      Romy took the pen he offered, scrawled her mobile number onto the back of the card, and placed both on his desk, then she turned, walked unseeing out to main Reception and took a lift down to the ground level.

      She’d succeeded in gaining her father a reprieve.

      It should have felt like victory…instead it felt like hell.

      CHAPTER THREE

      THE phone pealed as Romy was about to step into the shower back at her St Kilda apartment, and she quickly pulled on a robe then raced into the bedroom to pick up her mobile, checked caller ID and failed to recognize the number.

      ‘Romy.’

      Xavier.

      There was no doubting the male voice, or to whom it belonged, and she drew in a deep breath, then slowly released it.

      ‘What do you want?’

      ‘We’re due to meet with my lawyer in half an hour.’ He moved fast…but what else did she expect?

      ‘I have plans,’ she said coolly. She didn’t, except he wasn’t to know that.

      ‘Do you really want to do this the hard way?’

      If only she didn’t have to do it at all!

      ‘I’ll be at your apartment in fifteen minutes.’

      ‘You don’t know the address.’ Empty words, given he’d already cut the connection.

      A soft oath escaped her lips in the knowledge he had the means to discover almost anything he wanted to know including her new place of residence.

      For a few timeless seconds she considered slipping out before Xavier arrived only to give up the idea almost as soon as it occurred.

      Fool, she silently berated herself as she stepped into the shower stall. Such an action could lead to financial suicide.

      The in-house phone pealed as Romy was putting the finishing touches to her hair, and she picked up, identified Xavier and quickly announced she was on her way down.

      Tailored trousers, neatly buttoned blouse beneath a jacket, killer heels, with her hair swept into a careless knot held in place by a large clasp. Casual, yet chic. Minimal make-up.

      Good to go, she decided as she picked up her keys and tossed them into her clutch as she exited her apartment.

      Xavier was waiting for her when the lift doors slid open at ground level, and she tamped down the sudden quiver in her stomach at the sight of him.

      He bore the look of a man whose sophisticated exterior belied the dangerous earthy quality that lay beneath the surface.

      Black trousers, an open-necked shirt and a black softleather jacket replaced the formal business suit. Attire which did little to lessen the lethal impact of the man.

      For a wild moment she considered telling him she’d changed her mind. Except doing so wasn’t an option.

      Her chin lifted fractionally, and she met and held his level gaze with equanimity as she crossed to his side.

      Stilettos added inches to her petite height, but even so the top of her head barely reached his shoulder. Three years ago she’d felt protected, whereas now it merely enhanced her vulnerability.

      Did he pick up on it? Possibly. Vulnerable wasn’t an emotion she wanted to impart.

      ‘I hope this won’t take long,’ Romy began, and saw his eyes narrow.

      ‘We settle the legal issues,’ Xavier reiterated as he ushered her through the foyer to the security-controlled entry. ‘Then we share dinner.’

      They exited the building, and he indicated a sleek Mercedes Maybach resting in a nearby reserved-parking bay.

      ‘I don’t want to have dinner with you.’ Romy waited as he disengaged the locking mechanism and opened the front passenger door.

      ‘Tough,’ he dismissed coolly as she moved past him and slid into the seat.

      The door closed with a refined clunk, and she delayed her response until he slipped into the adjoining seat.

      ‘I get the need for a pre-nup,’ she managed with deliberate calm as her eyes speared his. ‘As to the marriage…when do you envisage the ceremony will take place?’

      Xavier engaged the engine and spared her a cool glance. ‘This weekend.’

      Her stomach did a slow somersault as he eased the car out onto the street and headed towards the city.

      ‘Why so soon?’ Her life was moving so fast it felt as if she’d boarded a runaway train!

      ‘You need me to spell it out?’

      It was simple maths: Andre needed a large sum of money fast; Romy represented the surety…and Xavier didn’t negotiate an unsecured deal.

      Dear God, the enormity of what she’d agreed to do acquired momentous proportion!

      ‘You’ve informed Andre?’

      Romy closed her eyes, then opened them again. ‘Yes.’ Only that she’d succeeded in clearing his debts…not the price she had to pay. Although no matter what spin she put СКАЧАТЬ