His Independent Bride: Wife Against Her Will / The Wedlocked Wife / Bertoluzzi's Heiress Bride. Catherine Spencer

stays married long enough to count as anyone’s husband.’

      ‘He has a bad reputation, and so does that yacht of his. I don’t blame your father for being concerned.’

      ‘Heavens,’ she said. ‘How censorious. You, of course, have always been Sir Galahad.’

      ‘No,’ he said. ‘Not even remotely.’ He paused. ‘So, again disregarding personalities, what are your objections to marriage?’

      She drank some wine. ‘You made it sound very cosy and domestic,’ she said. ‘But it involves other obligations, which I, frankly, have no wish to fulfil. With anyone.’ And with you least of all, ran frantically through her head.

      He gave her a measuring look. ‘Isn’t it a little late for you to be playing the frightened virgin?’

      ‘It has nothing to do with being scared,’ she said, examining the colour of the wine with minute attention. ‘My experience of sex showed me that it was undignified, painful and messy, but mercifully over very quickly. And certainly nothing since has caused me to change my mind.’

      She looked at him, defying him to laugh. But there wasn’t the faintest trace of amusement in the blue eyes.

      There was a silence, then he said quietly, ‘I’m sorry you felt like that about it.’ He paused carefully. ‘However, I think you may have been unfortunate in your choice of partner.’

      ‘A common male viewpoint, I’m sure,’ Darcy said with cold derision.

      ‘And what’s the next line, I wonder? “It will be different with me, darling”?’

      The firm mouth hardened. ‘While you maintain that attitude, sweetheart, I doubt it would be different with anyone. But that’s your choice.’ He refilled her glass. ‘However, there’s more than one kind of marriage. If you want our arrangement to remain strictly business, that’s fine with me.’

      She stared at him. ‘You’re saying that?’ Suddenly she felt bewildered. ‘Yet, only a moment ago, you were telling me I was—beautiful.’

      ‘And so you are,’ he returned promptly. ‘What do you want me to say? That I don’t find you desirable?’ He shook his head. ‘That would be a lie, and we both know it. I wanted you from the first moment I saw you.’

      As she gasped, he shrugged. ‘But what the hell? There are plenty of desirable girls in the world, and most of them, thank God, don’t seem to share your hang-ups. I won’t be lonely, and you most certainly won’t be jealous. It sounds like a perfect deal.’

      He leaned forward. ‘And there’s something else. Our marriage wouldn’t have to last forever. Once I’m firmly established as chairman of Werner Langton, we can think again. Even your father can’t force us to find each other compatible,’ he added drily.

      ‘You want a life and an independent career,’ he went on. ‘Well, I can fix that for you. Go to university if your grades are good enough. Study to be an engineer, if that’s your dream, and I’ll support you. You won’t even need a student loan.’

      She stared at him. ‘My father would never agree.’

      ‘Once you were my wife,’ he said, ‘it would no longer be his decision.’

      ‘First blackmail. Now bribery.’ There was scorn in her voice. ‘You really have no scruples, do you, Mr Castille?’

      ‘Something Werner Langton may be glad of, if they’re going to survive through the twenty-first century,’ he came back at her sharply. ‘It’s a hard bloody world out there, and some of the board need to wake up to that.

      ‘And so do you. I’m offering you a working partnership, Miss Langton. Length—indefinite. Terms—to be established. Take it or leave it. You won’t get a second chance.’

      ‘You have to give me time to think…’

      ‘You’ve been thinking ever since you saw me walking towards you,’ he said. ‘You knew exactly what I was coming for. Or did you imagine I simply wanted your delectable body?’ He shook his head. ‘That would have been a bonus, but even without it you’re still a valuable commodity, Miss Langton.

      ‘And I can also be of service to you. If you let me. You can forget about being a table decoration, and have a career, a life of your own. But it’s marriage first. That’s not a variable.’

      He paused. ‘Unless, of course, you’ve had a better offer.’

      ‘No,’ she said wearily. Her voice rang hollow in her ears. ‘I haven’t.’

      In fact, there’d been no offers at all, but that was her own doing. No one had been allowed to get near her. And this man across the table would be no exception.

      ‘Well?’ His incisive tone cut through her reverie. ‘You’ve worked as an au pair in the past. This time, you’ll be an au pair with a wedding ring. And with a dream you can make come true at the end of it.’

      She swallowed. ‘You promise it’s just a temporary arrangement? And when it’s over, you’ll keep your word about my career?’

      ‘When it’s over,’ he said. ‘Consider the sky your limit.’

      She bit her lip. ‘Well, then, I suppose, if I must, I will.’

      He sat back in his chair, surveying her from under drooping lids. ‘I’m glad I didn’t offer my heart along with my hand,’ he drawled. ‘I imagine it would be feeling a little bruised by now. However.’ He picked up his glass. ‘To the future.’

      Reluctantly, she echoed the toast and drank.

      She thought, What have I done? What have I done?

      But she knew only too well. Unbelievably, she’d agreed to marry Joel Castille.

      I must be crazy, she thought. Certifiable. But Joel made it sound so reasonable, so logical. A direct way for both of us to get what we want, and then move on.

      But can it really be that simple?

      She looked at the food left on her plate, and put down her knife and fork.

      ‘Wasn’t the sole good?’ he asked politely.

      ‘How should I know?’ she said curtly. ‘I haven’t tasted a mouthful.’

      ‘That’s unfortunate, when we’re destined to eat a lot of meals together—lunch—dinner.’ He paused. ‘And—breakfast, naturally.’

      Her head came up. ‘And what is that supposed to mean?’

      He shrugged. ‘I’d hate to think your loss of appetite might become a permanent feature of our life together.’

      ‘Understand this, Mr Castille,’ she said with icy clarity. ‘You and I will never have a life together. And breakfast will be one of the many things we won’t be sharing.’

      ‘Most important meal of the day, I’m told,’ he said mockingly. ‘You don’t plan to send me off to work each morning with hot food and a kiss? Your personal contribution to British industry?’

      She said through gritted teeth, ‘I most certainly do not.’

      His grin was unruffled. ‘No, I suspect a poisoned chalice might be more in your line. But that’s what marriage can sometimes be, they tell me. At least we’re starting off with no illusions.’ He paused. ‘Shall we discuss arrangements for the wedding over dessert?’

      Darcy didn’t bother to hide her dismay. ‘Already?’ She hesitated. ‘I mean, it can’t be that soon, or my father will start asking questions. He’s expecting a more conventional approach. You said so yourself.’

      ‘He wants us married.’ There was curtness in his tone. ‘He has a result. How we achieved it is our own business, surely.’ His smile was cynical. ‘Or do you want me to tell him that it