Bridal Bargains: The Tycoon's Bride / The Purchased Wife / The Price Of A Bride. Michelle Reid

sacrificing it to your baby sister.’

      ‘I don’t see it as a sacrifice.’ Her chin came up, blue eyes glittering with indignation. ‘And I resent the implication that I may do.’

      ‘My apologies,’ he retracted instantly. ‘It was not my intention to offend.’

      No, Claire could see it wasn’t. This was just too important to him to want to risk offending her—which immediately brought about her next question. ‘Why does it mean so much to you to get me? To get Melanie?’ she asked. ‘You could walk out of here right now and simply pick up a dozen women with children who could fill this role just as well as we can!’

      ‘But I want you both,’ he stated simply. ‘Why don’t you ask yourself why it is that you are so afraid of what I am offering you?’

      ‘Because it feels wrong,’ she replied, then added honestly, ‘And I’m too young for this role.’

      ‘Or is it me who is too old?’

      He’s the type who will never be old. ‘How old is that exactly? And don’t give me the flippant answer I got the last time I asked you that question,’ she warned. ‘Because I’m serious. If you want me to consider your proposition I need to know.’

      ‘Thirty-six,’ he replied, and grimaced at her astonished expression.

      She gave a small sigh, then turned to lean back against the closed door. ‘This is crazy,’ she muttered, thinking out loud. But what was even crazier was the knowledge that she was beginning to waver.

      No more worries, she told herself. No more living from day to day in a place she hated with no prospect of ever getting something better—if you didn’t count what was being offered here. Then there was Melanie to consider. Melanie, who would want for nothing for the rest of her life, if his sincerity was to be believed.

      It was all very seductive, she mused, lifting her hand to gently rub at the bump on her temple as her head began to ache.

      He saw the gesture and was instantly all concern. ‘It is clear that you have had enough for one day,’ he murmured huskily. ‘Let us leave this for now, and come back to it tomorrow when you are feeling more rested.’

      He was right—and she had taken enough, Claire acknowledged wearily. But she said, ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I won’t sleep for worrying about all of this unless we resolve it now.’

      She lifted tired, bruised, anxious eyes to his. ‘Will you please tell me why you need a ready-made wife and baby?’ she begged.

      There was a pause, then he asked smoothly, ‘Are you telling me you are going to accept my proposition?’

      He isn’t going to give a single inch to me, she noted. ‘I’m thinking about it,’ she replied.

      ‘Then while you think I will think about telling you why I want you to marry me.’

      Cat and mouse. Cut and thrust. ‘Then goodnight,’ she said, and turned back to the door.

      ‘I like the hair, by the way …’

      Her hair? Her hand went up, self-conscious fingertips lightly touching the ends of a fine silk tendril.

      ‘It is such a wonderful colour …’

      ‘Thank you,’ she murmured, blushing slightly at the unexpected compliment.

      ‘Neither blonde nor red,’ he softly observed. ‘But a rather fascinating mixture of the two … I wonder what colour it will go with a Greek sunset pouring all over it?’

      ‘I’ve never been to Greece,’ Claire sighed, heard the wistful note in her voice and knew that he must be able to hear it too.

      ‘You’ll love it,’ he promised as he walked towards her. ‘Sizzling hot days and delightfully warm nights. Though you will have to protect your fine white skin from the sun,’ he warned. ‘But Melanie’s skin will love it. Whatever nationality her father was, he gifted her with the rich olive skin of a true Mediterranean.’

      ‘Spanish,’ Claire inserted. ‘Her father was Spanish.’ Then a sudden thought had her glancing sharply at him. ‘Is that why you want her?’ she asked. ‘Because she has the right skin tone to be passed off as your daughter?’

      But he shook his dark head. He was standing so close to her now that she could actually see the wry humour hovering in his dark eyes. ‘With a golden-haired, pale-skinned English wife, my child could have been blessed with her colouring,’ he pointed out.

      Looking away again, Claire frowned, the conundrum behind his reason for wanting them beginning to irritate her like an itch she couldn’t quite reach. ‘Well …’ She gave a small shrug of one narrow shoulder as if the itch were situated there, and turned away from him yet again. ‘I’ll …’

      ‘My family is trying to make me marry again, and produce an heir to my fortune.’

      He caved in so suddenly and produced the information that for a moment Claire couldn’t believe that he’d actually done it! It went so against what she’d believed she’d already learned about his calculating nature!

      ‘They have my proposed bride already picked out for me,’ he went on. ‘And the pressure is mounting because my grandmother is ill. She wants to hold her great-grandchild before she dies. And since I am the only grandson she has it is up to me to grant her that wish.’

      ‘How ill?’ Claire asked gently.

      ‘Very.’ The shadowy outline of his mouth flicked out that grim brief smile again. ‘She is ninety-two years old and has just suffered her second stroke. She does not have long left on this earth.’

      And he loves her and is going to miss her dreadfully, Claire realised as she saw a darkness come down over those unfathomable eyes, and felt her heart give a pinch of well understood sympathy.

      ‘I don’t have time to play around with alternatives,’ he admitted. ‘So your arrival in my life was a piece of good fortune I could not afford to dismiss. As I have told you before, I respond to my instincts. And my instincts tell me that we three could make a good team.’ His eyes flicked up, clashed with her eyes and Claire suddenly felt as if she were falling again. ‘When my grandmother is no longer here to see it happen, you can leave whenever you are ready to …’

      No hearts compromised, no feelings touched. ‘More like a temporary job, in fact.’

      ‘For you, yes,’ he agreed, with a small shrug. ‘But not for Melanie …’ he made firmly clear. ‘Melanie will be my daughter in every way I can make it so. I want her, Claire,’ he added huskily. ‘I need her.’

      ‘But will you love her?’ she challenged.

      ‘As my own and all my life,’ he vowed. And he meant it; Claire could see that in the fierce glow of a powerful intent that suddenly lit his eyes.

      I wish somebody wanted me like that, she found herself thinking wistfully. ‘And when I decide to go—what happens to Melanie?’

      ‘She goes with you,’ he said—but only after a hesitation that hit a warning button inside her head. ‘So long as you will promise to respect my rights as her legal father, we will agree on an affable arrangement which will suit both of our needs where she is concerned. For Melanie’s sake alone, it has to be her best chance in life, don’t you think?’

      For Melanie’s sake, Claire repeated silently, knowing exactly where she had heard those words before, and not liking the sensation that trickled down her spine at the connection.

      But, despite that nasty sensation, one important thing she did know for sure was that, having once lived in privileged comfort herself—though not anywhere near the style he was offering Melanie here—and having gained tough experience at the poorer end of the scale, Claire knew which end of that scale she preferred to be.

      ‘I’ll do it,’ she heard herself