because…?’
‘Because as soon as they got a sniff of a cheque they conceded defeat and cleared off.’
Shimmer turned to shock, rendering her momentarily speechless. When she could finally put voice to thoughts again, out spilled the disbelief in words. ‘You paid them?’
She put a hand over her mouth, swaying a little on her feet at the revelation. Monica had mentioned in passing the fact that she’d never been able to hang on to a boyfriend for long, how she’d been left cold on more than one occasion and how she felt Jake was different. Sophie had imagined it had merely been to do with not finding the right guy yet, and had never once imagined there was a more sinister reason. ‘You actually paid your sister’s boyfriends to back off?’
‘Which they did. Which proves my point, wouldn’t you say, that they only wanted her for the money?’
She was still reeling, amazed that he was so unabashed about his interference on the one hand, and imagining the pressure he must have exerted on his sister’s hapless suitors on the other. Confronted by one of his henchmen, or worse still Daniel himself, they’d probably been terrified of what might have happened if they didn’t take the money and run.
She searched his eyes for some hint of remorse but their dark depths were cold and unapologetic. She shivered, the earlier shimmering heat she’d felt suddenly vanquished with his cold-as-ice revelation.
She had no doubt he thought he was doing good in protecting the family fortune, but in doing so he’d left his sister thinking there was something fundamentally wrong with her and that she would never find a partner who would stick by her in the process.
It was sheer luck that Monica had found Jake—not that there was any way she was going to convince Daniel of that. Just as clearly she could tell she’d wasted her time coming here today. Daniel didn’t just want his sister to remain unmarried, what he really wanted was to lock her in a gilded cage and throw away the key.
‘You should be pleased your sister has found someone who appreciates how special she is.’
‘Oh, Fletcher knows she’s special, all right. Special to the tune of an eight-figure sum. Why else would he have zeroed in on her?’
‘Because he loves her.’
‘So why the desperate rush to marry if he loves her so much? Is he afraid she’ll change her mind and he’ll lose his entrée to a fortune? Or is it that he can’t wait to get his hands on her assets—those assets he hasn’t already availed himself of, that is?’
‘You’re disgusting,’ she managed, already turning her thoughts to getting to the airport, maybe catching an earlier flight back to Brisbane. ‘You’re not a brother. You’re some kind of monster.’
‘Am I more a monster than the men who would take advantage of Monica’s fortune in pretence of love?’
She bowed her head, disbelieving, already turning away. ‘You don’t know they were after her money. They were probably just too terrified to argue. I’m sorry, I’ve wasted—’
An iron grip on her forearm put a stop to her escape before it had begun. When she turned back, his eyes were narrowed, their darkness intensified, his head at an angle as he moved closer. ‘Yet you’re not too terrified to argue, are you, Miss Turner? Why is that? Are you afraid of missing out on your big, fat fee?’
Resistance sparked once more in her veins. ‘Is that all everything comes down to with you, Mr Caruana? Money? Do you really believe everyone is motivated by the same almighty quest for the dollar? Well, maybe you should think again. And then maybe you might stop judging everyone by your own low standards.’
She jerked her elbow out of his grip, wanting to get away, needing to get away. Failure weighing heavily on her shoulders.
Oil on the waters. What a laugh. She might as well have thrown petrol on the flames of his familial discontent. She’d blown her role as peacemaker completely. ‘I have to go.’
‘Why? So you can warn Fletcher I’ll be making him an offer? To advise him he should hang out for more? You mark my words,’ Daniel continued, ‘Fletcher will have his price, just like the rest.’
‘Oh no.’ She shook her head. There was no way Daniel was slotting her brother into the likes of his damned fortune-hunters. ‘Jake isn’t like that—even if those others were, and you’ve given me no proof of that. Jake isn’t interested in her money. He loves Monica.’
‘Of course he does,’ he sneered. ‘How long exactly have they known each other? A fortnight? A month?’
‘Some people don’t need that long to know the person they’re with is the one they want to spend the rest of their lives with.’
‘Is that so? Next you’ll be telling me you believe in love at first sight.’
‘It happens.’
‘But of course you would have to say that, in your line of work. You want people to get married; you don’t actually care if they stay married.’
Sophie turned for the door. ‘Look, I’m leaving. I don’t have to put up with this.’
But he was already there in front of her, blocking her exit, and again she was struck by the way he moved with such effortless grace for such a powerfully built man. But it was what he was doing to her internal thermostat that concerned her more. Again he’d tripped some switch that sent her body from frigid to simmering in an instant. Her skin prickled with heat, her nerve endings tingled with awareness and it was only the portfolio clutched in her folded arms that concealed her rock-hard nipples.
It was in his eyes, she realised as he stared down at her. In his dark, challenging eyes that could suddenly turn from cold and flat to molten pools that radiated their heat to hers and then downwards to her very extremities. Eyes that were telling her things that made no sense, yet still her toes curled in her shoes.
Then he smiled and reached out a hand, running the backs of his fingers down her cheek so gently that she trembled under his electric touch. It was like being in a bubble where the room had shrunk to a tiny space around them, where even her peripheral vision had shrunk to fit no more than his broad shoulders. ‘If I said to you right now “marry me”, would you say yes?’
His voice seemed to come from a long, long way away, while his thumb stroked her chin; her lips parted on a sigh. ‘Mr Caruana…’ She swallowed, her thoughts scrambled. She was supposed to be leaving. She was sure she’d been about to leave. They’d been arguing. But what about?
‘Daniel,’ he said, his voice like the darkest chocolate, smooth, rich and forbidden. ‘Enough with the “Mr Caruana”. Call me Daniel. And I shall call you Sophie.’
‘Mr Caruana,’ she attempted again. ‘Daniel.’ She licked her lips. The name felt way too informal, tasted almost intimate, or was that just the way his eyes seemed to spark and flare as he watched her mouth his name? As he watched her lips taste the sound as hungrily as she’d watched his lips utter her name?
He was closer, his hand at her neck, drawing her towards him, towards his mouth. ‘What would your answer be?’
There was a point to all this, she recognised that much, if only she could tell what it was. But
