the marriage she’d agreed to, with a man she’d never expected to see again after he’d left her at the hotel, she gave her full attention to the rings displayed before her. The sparkling stones blurred for a moment and she blinked to try and refocus them, horrified to realise it was tears filling her eyes that were distorting the almost endless display of expensive rings.
Once she’d selected one of the rings and was wearing it the deal would be sealed. She would have accepted his terms. She blinked quickly once more, trying to stop the threatening tears from falling. She couldn’t cry. Not yet. She had to be as strong and detached as he was being.
‘I think an emerald.’ He moved to her side and put his arm around her, his hand holding her waist as he pulled her tighter against his body. ‘To match your eyes.’
He’d noticed she had green eyes? That snippet of information shocked her, because it meant he had taken an interest in her beyond the seduction he’d obviously been planning since the ride in the troika. The memory of that day was now tarnished by the reality of the fact that he’d engineered it all—and she’d fallen for it. Had that wonderfully gentle yet powerfully seductive kiss been part of the plan too?
Of course it had and you fell for it.
‘How about this one?’ she asked, tiredness washing over her, brought on no doubt by the stress of everything, combined with the time difference and pregnancy. All she wanted to do right now was get back to her hotel room and rest, but she held the ring up by the delicate diamond-encrusted band, the emerald sparkling in the bright lights of the store.
‘Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer one of the larger ones?’ He moved away from her and sat in a distinctly antique-looking chair to the side of the table. She tried hard not to look at his long legs as he stretched them out before him. He looked far too relaxed when she was as tense as she’d ever been.
‘No,’ she said and looked boldly into his eyes, not missing the way his gaze slid down her body before meeting hers. The tingle of awareness was disconcerting and she pushed it aside, determined to be in control of this moment at the very least. ‘No, this is much more my style.’
He stood up and came back to her. He took the ring from her, looking at it, then, to her astonishment, took her left hand in his, raising it up. With deliberate slowness he slipped the ring onto her finger and she was amazed to see it was a perfect fit, as if it had been made for her. ‘In that case, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?’
It was the last thing she’d expected him to do after having all but put a deal to her and she stumbled over her words, aware of the store staff watching the exchange. Was this all for their benefit or his? She looked at him, wondering if she’d be able to speak, but finally the words came out in a soft whisper. ‘Yes, Nikolai, I will.’
He kept hold of her hand for far too long and she watched as he looked down at the square emerald now sat neatly on her finger. Would he keep his side of this strange bargain? Would he provide the funds for Jess to continue on her chosen course in life and, more importantly, be there for his child?
If he doesn’t you only have to walk away; you have nothing to lose by agreeing.
As that rebellious thought rocked through her he stepped closer and lowered his head; she knew, with every nerve in her body, that he was going to kiss her. Right there in the store.
When his lips met hers fire shot through her and her knees weakened and, as her eyes fluttered closed, she forced them open again. He moved slightly and she could see his lips lifting into a smile that was full of self-satisfaction. Then he spoke so softly only she could hear. ‘A very sensible answer.’
* * *
Nikolai opened the door of the car he’d ordered while he’d completed his purchase for the engagement ring—an item he’d never envisaged buying again. But what choice did he have? He couldn’t turn his back on his child. This was his chance to prove to himself he was a better man than his father. His child had not been conceived in the underhand way he himself had been, so didn’t that already make him a better man? But it wasn’t enough. He needed to prove to himself he was not like his father.
He watched as Emma slid into the back of the car, looking weary, and a pang of guilt briefly touched him. He had nothing to feel guilty about, he reassured himself. Emma was here to secure her and her child’s future and, now that he’d also added her sister’s into the bargain, she had everything she’d come for—and more.
She would become his fiancée and, as soon as possible, his wife. He wanted this particular deal sealed long before news of their baby broke. He wanted his mother to think he’d found love and happiness. It was all she’d ever wanted for him and now, due to one night when he’d been less than in control, he was able to give her that.
‘Where are you staying?’ he demanded as he joined her in the back of the car.
‘A hotel on West Forty-Seventh Street,’ she said without looking at him, provoking that twinge of guilt once more as he gave the driver instructions.
‘This is the right thing to do,’ he said as he took her hand from where it lay in her lap. She turned to look at him, her sable hair moving invitingly, reminding him of how soft it had been between his fingers.
‘What if you meet someone you really want to marry?’ The doubt laced in her voice did little to soften the emotions running through him. As far as he was concerned, that would never be an issue. The example of married life his father had set him was one which had stayed with him long after his mother had found happiness. He might have seen her marry for love when he was almost twelve years old but inside he knew he had his father’s genes. The way to avoid testing that theory had been to avoid any kind of emotional commitment. By the time he’d become a successful businessman in his own right, he’d also become cold and cynical and knew he would never think of marrying—at least, not for love.
‘That won’t be an issue. I could, of course, ask the same of you.’
‘Oh, I always dreamed of the fairy-tale wedding. You know—big white dress, flower girls and bridesmaids, fancy location and a honeymoon in a tropical paradise.’ At first he was taken aback by her soft, wistful voice, but the hard glint in those green eyes warned him it was just a cover-up. He knew all about hiding emotions, only he was better at it than she was; but he’d play the game her way. For now, at least.
‘And now?’
‘Now?’ She pulled her hand free of his and glared up at him, defiance adding to the sparks in her eyes. ‘Now I know better.’
‘So you won’t be looking for love and happy-ever-afters?’
‘Never.’ That one word was said with so much conviction he didn’t doubt it for one minute.
‘Then we agree on that too. You see, already we have a good base for our marriage. A child who needs us both and an obvious dislike of anything remotely romantic.’
She looked at him, questions racing across her beautiful face, and all he wanted to do was taste her lips once more. The memory of that kiss in the snow had lingered in his mind for the best part of two months, just as the hours spent making her truly his had filled his dreams night after night. It had been those memories which had made kissing her in the store impossible to resist, that and the smouldering anger, defused by an undeniable attraction in her alluring eyes.
‘We’re here,’ she said quickly, the relief in her voice more than evident.
