Claiming My Bride Of Convenience. Кейт Хьюит

I’d given her everything she could possibly want. Why would she want to hand it all back? It was the last thing I expected. The last thing I wanted.

      I married Daisy Campbell both to satisfy and to spite my grandfather, and it was so very sweet to experience both when I tossed the marriage certificate on Bastian Arides’s desk and informed him of my new status.

      ‘You made a condition and it has now been met.’

      ‘And your wife?’ he asked, looking stunned by my bloodless coup.

      I laughed as I told him the truth. ‘A dumpy nobody of a waitress I picked up from a diner in New York. She’s currently residing on Amanos, in case you feel the need to check.’

      Bastian’s mouth dropped open; he’d expected me to marry some suitable socialite he could add to the family pedigree—some way, perhaps, to justify my place in his life, bastard grandson that I was. Little did he know me. Little did he realise how deep my need for vengeance, for justice ran.

      ‘I think you’ll find I’ve won, old man,’ I said as I strolled out of his office. ‘The condition you made to the board has been met in full.’

      Bastian shook his head, his expression one of both defeat and fury. ‘That is not what I meant, Matteo, and you know it.’

      ‘Too bad you weren’t more specific, then.’

      The clause in the agreement to transfer his shares to me had been clear—marry, and stay married, in order to get his shares and sixty percent of the stock in Arides Enterprises, and therefore complete control of the company. The board had agreed; everyone had signed. And I’d done what he asked.

      I had what I wanted and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. I was now in control of Arides Enterprises—the company his father had built from scratch, the company he’d wanted to hand on to his legitimate grandson, Andreas.

      But of course that was impossible. Instead he’d had to hand it to me, his only heir and the only person in the company capable of running a multimillion-dollar enterprise. The person who had taken the lagging sales and outdated practices and dragged them into the twenty-first century—and into the black.

      Now, as I looked at my so-called dumpy waitress of a wife, I realised she was neither. She sparkled—and it wasn’t just the dress. Her eyes glittered like topaz, her cheeks were flushed and her chest heaved. Everything about her seemed alive and shockingly vibrant. Desirable. How extraordinary. How unexpected. It made me pause, my mind reviewing everything she’d said.

      ‘I told you—I want a chance at a real marriage,’ she insisted. ‘A family.’

      ‘A family? The biological clock is ticking, I suppose?’

      She folded her arms, her expression turning mutinous. ‘Something like that.’

       I could give her a baby.

      It was a novel thought, and admittedly not entirely unwelcome. Yes, I needed an heir…eventually. It was something I’d postponed, put off to the misty, distant future because it hadn’t felt urgent or necessary. And yet…I was thirty-six. The lifestyle I’d been living was starting to lose its appeal—at least a little. And I was already married.

      Why would I want to bother with the hassle of courting some other woman when I had one right here? One I was, much to my own surprise, finding desirable?

      Still, this would take some thought. Some planning. The last thing I wanted to do was rush into a lifetime commitment with someone who was still essentially a stranger.

      And yet…Daisy was biddable. Acceptable. And she’d already agreed to a marriage of convenience. Why not a marriage that was convenient on slightly different terms?

      ‘You’re still young,’ I remarked. ‘Another year wouldn’t make much difference to your plans.’ Although for some reason the prospect my words implied irritated me.

      ‘And is that how long it would be?’ she countered. ‘A few months ago I read in the paper that your grandfather is celebrating his unexpected all-clear from cancer.’ Her lips twisted. ‘Something I doubt you expected.’

      Damn those nosy tabloids. ‘I’m pleased he’s had such successful treatment, of course,’ I answered levelly.

      He’d been declared in remission, rather than in the clear, but I wasn’t going to debate the point. The truth was he’d lasted longer than anyone had expected—myself most of all.

      ‘And you need to remain married for as long as he’s alive, as I recall?’

      Her golden-brown eyes met mine in challenge and held me there.

      ‘Did you ever plan to inform me that the duration of our marriage was going to be a bit longer than you had said?’

      ‘I assumed you were satisfied with the arrangement,’ I stated coolly.

      ‘You assumed wrong.’

      Her voice was as cool as my own. When had she developed such confidence? Such poise? The woman I remembered from the diner had been beaten down by life, as well as frightened of its possibilities. I’d chosen her for exactly those reasons. And while, judging by her dress, Daisy might still need to develop some sense of style, she had plenty of courage.

      I felt a flicker of admiration for her, and promptly suppressed it.

      ‘Why not wait another year?’ I pressed. ‘I doubt it will be longer than that. Then you won’t have to give back the money. You’re giving up a lot, Daisy, and for what? A chance at something that might not even happen?’

      Hurt flashed in her eyes as her chin went up. ‘Thanks a lot.’

      ‘There’s no one at the moment, is there?’ I reminded her, thinking that she had better not be lying to me about that. ‘And you said you intend to stay on Amanos. Do you really think you’re going to find Mr Right there?’

      ‘I have better chance of doing so if I’m not married to Mr Wrong,’ she retorted. ‘Although perhaps I’ll just act as if the marriage has been annulled if you refuse to agree it.’

      Fury surged through me along with something else—something hot and molten and fierce. Although I suspected her words were nothing but an empty threat, they still had the power to enrage me.

      ‘You will not go down that forsaken route,’ I ground out. ‘Is that clear?’

      She shrugged, the movement of her slender shoulders tautening the material across her breasts.

      ‘There’s nothing about it in our agreement. I don’t have to be faithful, since you certainly haven’t been. I could even have a child without you.’ Her eyes flashed fire. ‘Consider this nothing more than a courtesy call.’

      My fists clenched. ‘I will not be made a cuckold so you can have an illegitimate child.’ I spoke savagely, memories pounding through me in a relentless tide of rejection.

       You’re nothing but a bastard. You were born one, you will remain one, and you will die one.

      I certainly wouldn’t countenance another one being brought into the world, for that was what it would be if Daisy had a child that was not my own.

      ‘I hardly think that’s what we’re talking about here.’

      Daisy’s chin was still lifted, but her lips trembled. She wasn’t as confident as she pretended. The thought brought satisfaction, as well as a surprising shaft of disappointment. Some contrary part of me had enjoyed her boldness.

      ‘And you can’t exactly call yourself cuckolded considering we’ve never…?’ Her voice wavered and she looked away.

      ‘We’ve never…?’ I prompted silkily.

      My blood was flowing hotly through my veins and that slinky tube of a dress was begging to be peeled off her curvaceous body.