“None,” he agreed. “Unless you’d care to change the rules of our marriage?”
He advanced, and she felt her mouth go dry.
“You’ll find my bed comfortable and me…accommodating.”
She stood. “I’m sorry. I think I should leave.”
“Come now, don’t tell me you’ve never wondered if all the talk about Latin men is true?”
“I’d like to think I’m above that kind of immature speculation,” she replied stiffly.
“Does ice flow through your veins, Catherine?”
He rolled the R, and then he said something else in Spanish. The musical cadence of the foreign words made understanding them superfluous. And if there were ice in her veins it surely would have melted when he reached out to caress her cheek.
“Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what? Touching my wife?” He took another step forward and placed both hands on her hips.
“Stephen, I…”
“You’re curious, Catherine. Admit it.”
“All right, yes. I’ll admit it. I’m curious about you. I don’t think that should come as any surprise. We’re married and we’re going to be living together.”
“I think it goes beyond that. I think you’re curious about this.”
Stephen intended the kiss to be punishing, but she responded to his boldness with surprising acceptance, shifting her position until their bodies touched from shoulder to thigh. He’d started out as the seducer and wound up feeling seduced, but his voice was steady when he said.
“I think you should go, querida. Before we do something that you’ll regret.”
Chapter Five
STEPHEN hadn’t asked Catherine to attend the meeting Tuesday morning that Derek had scheduled with Fieldman’s top brass. He’d mentioned it to her, of course, but not with the expectation that she would be there, especially after that fiasco in his bedroom. He simply wanted her prepared, in case Derek or some tabloid reporter called to confirm her marriage to Stephen. As of yet, word had not leaked out. So it shocked him tremendously when she walked through the door to his office fifteen minutes before nine o’clock. She looked fresh and lovely in a tailored silk suit the color of rich cream, her hair swept back and held in a pearl clip at the nape of her neck. He immediately wished she’d worn it loose.
“I hope I’m not late,” she said, casting Stephen a rueful glance. Then she smiled brilliantly before adding, “I haven’t been getting much sleep lately, so I’m afraid I didn’t hear the alarm go off.”
Derek and Marguerite had just settled into their chairs, sipping coffee, clearly pleased with themselves. At Catherine’s arrival Derek bobbled his beverage, sending a good portion of it down the front of his snowy shirt.
“What are you doing here?” he asked, scowling as he tried to mop up the mess. “We have an important meeting in just a few minutes. Anything you want to discuss with me will have to wait until later.”
“Yes, dear,” Marguerite said, trying to work up a look of sympathy on her frozen face. “It’s really poor form to chase after a man, especially one who has made it pretty clear he doesn’t want you.”
Catherine ignored her, addressing Derek instead. “I’m not here to see you.”
“You’re here to see Stephen?” He laughed, as if she’d just delivered the punchline of a joke. “Well, that will have to wait until after our meeting, too.”
“She stays,” Stephen said, pulling out a seat for her.
“Stephen, really, whatever game you two have concocted, it’s in poor taste,” Marguerite replied. She motioned to their attorney, who had just entered the room, lugging his briefcase. “This is business, not an ice cream social. Fieldman’s people will be here any moment.”
“My wife stays,” Stephen said succinctly, and had the pleasure of watching three mouths drop open.
Derek surged to his feet. “Wife? What do you mean, wife? When did this happen?”
“Saturday, in Las Vegas. You know, cousin, the place where fortunes are won…and lost?”
“You married her?” Marguerite looked suddenly pale.
“You won’t get away with this,” Derek said.
“I believe that was my line last week. Try to be original.”
“Lyle, say something,” Marguerite snapped.
The attorney smiled, relief flooding his expression, and offered a hand. “Congratulations, Stephen.”
Marguerite swatted his arm. “Don’t be a fool, Lyle. Congratulations aren’t in order. Don’t you see what he’s doing? He only married Catherine out of spite. Surely there’s something we can do.”
“If the marriage is legal, there’s nothing. Under the terms of the codicil, Stephen now owns ninety-five percent of Danbury’s.”
“But that’s not fair,” Marguerite had the gall to say.
“You still have your five percent,” Lyle reminded her. “And Derek is hardly a pauper. He has other assets, although he may not be able to live quite so lavishly from now on.”
“You haven’t heard the last of this,” Derek fumed, as he and Marguerite headed to the door.
When they were gone the room was silent for a moment, then Lyle sank into a chair and grinned. “I can’t tell you how happy I am for you, Stephen.”
“But last week you stood with them. You claimed I knew about the codicil.”
“I never claimed that. Marguerite did. I just never corrected her, for which I’m sorry.” His expression sobered. “They can be very persuasive, Stephen. My son had a little trouble a few years back, a gambling debt. A very large one to the wrong people, if you know what I mean. I engaged in some overbilling to gather enough to pay it off.”
“Why didn’t you just come to me?”
“I should have. I was ashamed. Keith’s not a bad kid, and he’s turned his life around. But in trying to help him I broke the law. Derek found out about it somehow, and he used it to find out what Maxwell was planning in his will. When he learned about the codicil he blackmailed me to keep it from you until it was too late.”
“But it wasn’t too late.”
“No. Derek wanted to gloat.” Lyle smiled again when he added, “His Achilles’ heel.”
“And I made the most of it.”
“It obviously never occurred to him that you would beat him at his sleazy game.”
The
