The Blackmailed Bride Page 8

  He picked up a peach from her breakfast tray and bit into the soft flesh.

  A sigh snagged in Kate's throat; the fruit had left a faint film of moisture on the sensual outline of his lips, and her stomach muscles spasmed viciously.

  `Before you cartwheel around the room...' Javier dwelt indulgently for a split second on the image of her cart­wheeling around the room in that skirt, so demure, but in­clined, even when cartwheels were not involved, to expose intriguing glimpses of creamy thigh.

  Kate intercepting the direction of his fixed stare glanced down, wondering if she had a blob of toothpaste or some­thing on her skirt that had offended his fastidious senses. She smoothed the fabric with her hand but couldn't see anything amiss. When she looked back up his gaze was now fixed on her face, his expression impassive, though there was a curious dark line of colour along the crests of his sharp sculpted cheekbones.

  `...Or do fifty push-ups, possibly? I feel I should point out I am quite prepared to accept the fact you were suffer­ing from a twenty-four hour bug and concussion. Your mother-' he shook his dark head slowly from side to side. `Now that might be a different story. I suspect she won't be satisfied by anything less than a medical certificate and a week's quarantine ... and your sister, I got the impression earlier that she was quite happy to have you stay here.'

  Kate's face fell as she was struck by the accuracy of his observation. Her mother was not the sort of person to ex­pose herself to the risk of infection, no matter how minus­cule that risk might be.

  `You saw Susie?'

  Javier had seen many Susies and this one had made as little lasting impression as the others. For his money, this sister was much more memorable. The sort of woman his grandfather would consider had fire; he was pleased to see that, true to her word, she didn't try and hide those insig­nificant scars, which to his mind only emphasised the creamy perfection of the rest of her smooth skin.

  At a moment when Kate had rarely felt less composed, she would have been astonished to learn that he was ad­miring her confidence.

  He inclined his head. `A temperature of one hundred and two didn't keep you in bed, so I doubted if doctor's orders or myself would have better luck today. I thought you might like to wear your own things this morning. I must say, you look quite charming...'

  Kate was dismayed to find herself shifting awkwardly from foot to foot and colouring up hotly like a schoolgirl at the unexpected but slick compliment.

  `If it wasn't for the bruise...'

  Kate forced herself not to retreat as he moved unexpect­edly forwards and, lifting up her fringe, ran a fingertip gently over the discolorated area on her temple.

  `You wouldn't know anything had happened. Sorry,' he apologised as she caught her breath sharply.

  Kate nodded her head and smoothed her hair back down as his hand fell away. She wasn't about to reveal, not even if her life depended on it, that pain had had nothing to do with her response. The stab of sharp sexual awareness that had jolted through her body at his touch made further self ­deception on her part futile.

  She ran the tip of her tongue over her dry lips. 'It's bit tender, but don't worry-I'm not contemplating litigation.' `Probably wise in the circumstances,' he observed drily.

  `The truth would do your career more harm than mine.'

  `I wasn't doing anything wrong!' she protested.

  'Ah, but someone in your position not only needs to be above suspicion, but to appear to be above suspicion.' `That's a horribly cynical thing to say.' `But true...'

  `We'll have to agree to differ.' She accompanied her words with a tight smile that didn't reach her wary eyes. `Don't worry yourself about my accommodation arrange­ments, but,' she added casually, as if the idea had just oc­curred to her, `before I-leave, I might as well take those photos and be out of your hair..:' Some perverse mental process immediately made her visualise sliding her fingers deep into that dark, glossy thatch.

  `I'm sure we can come to a mutually agreeable arrange­ment...'

  `I don't want to be agreeable!' she bellowed, stamping her foot. There was absolutely no point playing it softly, softly with someone like him. `I want the photos-now!'

  Shock flickered across Javier's face. He was not accus­tomed to receiving peremptory orders from anyone, least of all from a slip of girl like this!

  'Dios Mio, what a temper you have!' he exclaimed. `Calm yourself. I'm sure we can negotiate something.'

  `Negotiate?' she parroted, brushing a section of damp hair impatiently behind her ear.

  Javier's nostrils flared as the clean scent of the shampoo she had just used drifted towards him, the scent subtly min­gled with a warm female fragrance. He felt his body react to the stimulus. The strength of the response startled him.

  'Negotiation...I want something, you want something, we come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, possibly involving an acceptable degree of compromise,' he eluci­dated slowly in his rich dark chocolate drawl. `I would have thought as a lawyer you were au fait with the way it works.'

  Now, compromise worried her, but the idea of him want­ing something she had worried her a lot more!

  `What do I have that you want?' Kate quavered, wrap­ping her arms protectively across her chest. Though the droop of his heavy lids concealed the expression in his eyes, she could detect a worrying gleam through the lush screen.

  `I need to get married.'

  It was not a response she had expected. `Congratulations,' Kate responded uncertainly. Trained to observe such things, she automatically noted the slight emphasis on need and the significant absence of want, both verbally and non-verbally.

  `You have not asked me in what manner this concerns you?

  'I thought you'd get around to telling me ... eventually" she observed with an exaggerated sigh.

  Her response made his lips quirk appreciatively.

  `My grandfather is an old-fashioned man in many ways...' he began heavily.

  `This might be quicker if I tell you what I already know. You're talking about Felipe Montero. The one with money, power and grasping relations all jockeying for position to replace him?' The financial pages were not Kate's choice of reading but she'd have needed to be living in a vacuum if she hadn't known something of the circumstances.

  `The one with terminal cancer,' came the blunt response.

  Kate's scornful smirk drooped. `Oh, God! I'm so sorry,' she murmured, feeling a total, thoughtless cow. `I didn't know.'

  `That is not accidental; nobody does. If the financial mar­kets learn of his illness, the bottom will drop out of Montero shares, wiping millions off the company's value overnight. To the world, my grandfather is Montero,' he outlined unemotionally. `The obvious solution is for the mantle to pass smoothly to his successor before it becomes public knowledge.'

  The cold-bloodedness of this analysis appalled Kate. Searching his face gave her no insight into his attitude to­wards his grandfather's illness. Did it really mean no more to him than figures on a balance sheet? Was he really that callous?

  `You want to be his successor.'

  `I am the logical choice. My uncle and cousins, whilst all are capable in their own way, lack leadership qualities.'

  Kate marvelled at his astonishing arrogance. 'But you have those qualities...?' She couldn't tell if he'd recognised the irony in her tone as he calmly conceded her point.

  `I do, and I see no reason to deny the fact. I would have thought that you of all people would appreciate candour, but I was forgetting the British consider self-deprecation a virtue,' he drawled. `Does that make me an arrogant Spaniard?'

  His mockery made Kate flush angrily. `I don't see your problem. Your grandfather needs an heir you are it. What does it have to do with me?

  'My grandfather and I have not always seen eye to eye; he is not a flexible man...'

  This classic demonstration of the pot calling the kettle black brought a grim smile to her lips; as amusing as this was she couldn't see where she came into it. `Will you get to the
damned point?' she pleaded tautly.

  `He had let me know that I am his choice but-this is where his old-fashioned standards come into it-only if I am married. He has even gone to the trouble of providing me with a potential mate.'

  `Doesn't he think you can find one of your own?' The mocking smile faded dramatically from her face as an ex­traordinary explanation for his grandfather's intervention presented itself to her. `You're not... ?' Kate gasped. An­other look revealed a tall figure oozing a staggering amount of aggressive masculinity; she smiled a little at her own stupidity and shook her head-no way was his sexual ori­entation in question! There had to be another explanation, but what?

  `Not what?' Javier puzzled impatiently.

  Kate's eyes dropped from his as she shook her head, extremely relieved she'd managed to put a brake on her impetuous tongue in time to stop her looking a total idiot and probably mortally offending him in the bargain. There were certain things you didn't ask a male and that went double if he was a Spanish male! Questioning his mascu­linity definitely came into that category of questions and the last thing she needed was a swaggering display of tes­tosterone.

  An incredulous exclamation suddenly burst from Javier's lips as he watched the play of expression on her face. Without warning, he reached out and cupped her chin in his hand, raising her chin. Kate didn't offer any resistance, she was too startled to do anything but stare up at him.

  For an intensely uncomfortable moment which, for Kate, seemed to last for an eternity he searched her face.

  'Madre mia!' he breathed as an incredulous expression spread across his face. `That is what you meant, isn't it?' he marvelled.

  Guilty colour flooded Kate's cheeks as she jerked her chin from his light grasp and dropped down into a conve­nient chair her knees shaking uncontrollably.

  `I might be able to confirm or deny if I had the faintest idea what you were talking about...' she prevaricated stiffly.

  `My sexual orientation is not something I've been called upon to defend before,' he mused.

  Kate covered her face and groaned. How could you argue with someone who appeared to possess the ability to read your mind?

  `But,' he continued silkily, `I've never been one to duck a challenge...' Kate peeked through her parted fingers; she didn't like the sound of that steely sentiment or the wor­rying gleam in his eyes. `Let me reassure you I do like women. Exclusively,' he added grinning wolfishly.

  And I bet they like you right back.

  `I'm happy for you,' she choked. `It was only a passing thought,' she added, trying to defuse the situation. `No need for any rash demonstrations; I'm totally prepared to believe you're rampantly heterosexual.' The thought that any demonstration might take the form of something crude-like a kiss-made it hard for her not to hyperventilate.

  It would naturally be horrifying and appalling to be kissed under these circumstances. Part of her couldn't help but wonder if the price wouldn't be worth paying, just to satisfy her curiosity... What would it feel like to be kissed by Javier Montero?

  'That makes me feel a great deal easier.'

  Kate's eyes narrowed as she glared at him with resentful dislike. `But I soon realised you weren't gay, just too im­mature to contemplate commitment.' A person had a right to think stupid things without being called upon to defend her thoughts. `For one daft moment there I was actually worried about your fragile Spanish male ego coping with a perceived slur on your manhood.'

  `It was a close thing for a minute...' he conceded drily. `A force ten hurricane couldn't dent your ego!' Kate snorted.

  `I'm sorry if I fail to comply with your stereotyping of Southern Mediterranean man, Kate. I'll walk around with my shirt open to the waist.' He flicked open a button at mid-chest level and revealed a section of deep golden flesh covered with a light sprinkling of dark hair. He contem­plated the area with a lot more composure than she did. `And wear a flashy gold medallion, maybe.' His head lifted. `What do you think?' he appealed to her with searing sar­casm. `Will a little tacky exhibitionism make you feel more secure? Or shall I pinch your bottom?'

  Secure? Kate, the blood pounding heavily in her temples, dragged her glazed eyes from the section of tanned skin. While she was in the same country as this infuriating man who twisted everything she said, she wouldn't feel secure.

  `I do not stereotype people,' she denied hotly. `It's just you are single and not exactly in the first flush of youth...' Even to Kate's ears, this sounded a pretty feeble excuse.

  Not that you're old exactly...' Way to go, Kate--call him gay and decrepit and he's bound to hand over the photos.

  `So all unmarried men in their thirties are gay. Let me see, have I got this right?' he pondered innocently. `That's not stereotyping?'

  `I didn't mean anything of the sort!' Kate closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer for deliverance. She took a steadying breath and met his eyes with what she hoped was some degree of composure. `It's not as if I could give two hoots one way or the other where, when or with whom you have sex. It's your aversion to arranged marriages we were discussing... What's wrong, is your grandfather's choice of prospective bride the problem? Is she a bit of a dog?' She'd never thought to hear herself use such a derisory term to describe one of her own sex which just showed what a corrupting influence this man had upon her.

  'No as a matter of fact, Aria is beautiful and accom­plished and in love with me...'

  He seemed to accept this adulation in his stride; it must have something to do with having been on the receiving end of adulation all of his adult life, she supposed.

  "How nice for you.'

  `I do not love her.'

  'And that matters to you?' She couldn't hide her skepticism.

  Did men like him marry for love? It surprised Kate that he even knew the meaning of the word!

  But then who am I to talk? It's not as if I'm the expert, she thought gloomily reviewing her love life-it took all of ten seconds! Seb had been the only serious boyfriend she'd ever had, her first lover and sometimes she thought maybe her last! Not that she was pining; once the dust had settled she'd realised the only part of her hurt by the ex­perience was her pride.

  Maybe Seb had had a point when he'd said there was no point staying in a relationship that was going nowhere.

  `I'll always come second to your career,' he'd accused. Well it hadn't taken him long to find a girl who put him first; they were expecting their first baby any time now.

  `But I am fond of Aria, too fond to marry her. So what I need is a woman who will go through a ceremony with me; after a suitable interval we would part.'

  Kate stiffened; the pupils of his eyes dilated dramatically as she stared up at him-he couldn't be suggesting...? Could he? She gave a wry smile and shook her head. Maybe that knock on the head had fused a few circuits, because nobody with a full complement of wits could imag­ine even briefly he'd come up with a plan like that!

  `I wouldn't have thought you'd have a lot of trouble finding someone to oblige you, especially if the remuner­ation for the contract is generous,' she observed cynically. Actually, she could think of several women who would do it for free!

  Even she could see the more obvious attractions of such a scheme.

  `My grandfather is a highly intelligent man. He would not be deceived by some plausible gold-digger.' The fur­rows across his broad brow deepened as he re-examined the problem. `I need someone different... preferably British and fair... Someone who will not be easily intimidated... Someone who at the end of the day will go back to her own life and leave me to mine.'

  `Why British and fair?' Kate asked, intrigued despite her­self by the reference that stood out in a truly bizarre speech as more puzzling than the rest.

  `Because he knows that the woman I fell in love with is both.' Kate gasped but Javier continued, `You find the no­tion of me loving someone so incredible?'

  Actually she found the fact of some woman having the good sense not to love him back incredible because, what­ever else he was
, he had sex appeal oozing out of every pore.

  `Nice dental work, Kate,' he observed dryly, `but the open-mouthed look is not a good one for you.'

  Kate closed her mouth with an audible snap.

  `Why don't you marry this woman?

  'That was my plan, although I doubt if she realised it, but that's irrelevant. She fell in love with someone else, someone who happens to be one of my best friends.'

  Surely this was a man who wouldn't be constrained by the limits of polite society? Failure of any sort must be unpalatable in the extreme to a man of his disposition. It didn't matter how hard she tried to picture Javier as a re­jected suitor, she couldn't! Her eyes drifted to the sensual outline of his mouth ...why, even I would be slightly tempted in the unlikely scenario of him making a pass at me and I don't even like dark brooding types.

  `And that puts her off limits?' It brought him down to a worryingly human level to discover he'd actually experi­enced rejection.

  'This has nothing to do with morals; you cannot make someone love you.'

  Undeterred by the repressive chill in his voice, she was unable to restrain herself from pushing it. For, some reason she found his pragmatism depressing. She might accept her own fate with similar stoicism but, although she might per­sonally prefer her men predictable with manageable-sized passions, the closet romantic in her wanted there to be men out there with souls of fire and passion, men who would fight with his dying breath to win over the woman he loved!

  `Did you try?'

  An unreadable expression, that might have been his equivalent of a violent emotional outburst, flickered across his taut features. `What is this, a counselling session?'

  `I see you did, but she wouldn't. Wow! I'd really like to meet her!' she responded incautiously.

  `You shall. Sarah has agreed to be a witness at our wed­ding tomorrow.'

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  KATE blinked several times and waited until the room ap­peared the right way up once more before hoarsely respond­ing. `Come again...'

  `Come again... ? I am not familiar with the term.'