game, one that required verbal skill and the power of persuasion. Something he was particularly noted for in the business arena, together with his ruthless ability to win against incredible odds.
Darius’ will had set out a deliberate plan in an attempt to achieve in death what he hadn’t been able to bring to fruition during his lifetime.
Wolfe observed Lara’s expressive features, divining the wariness evident, the faint curiosity … and closed in for the kill.
‘I’ll ensure the funds you require are transferred into your bank account within twenty-four hours.’
Her relief was palpable as the horrendous weight of her liability to the loan shark was seen to disappear, and her voice shook a little.
‘Thank you.’
‘Together with an equal amount to ensure any outstanding bills are paid, any temporary reduction in your staff’s wages are reimbursed.’
The waiter delivered their main course, and she didn’t speak until he was out of earshot.
‘You’re being unbelievably generous.’ An instinctive wariness began to unfold, together with suspicion.
‘I’ll clear the restaurant mortgage-debt, and cover all necessary refurbishment.’
There had to be a catch. A price she’d have to pay.
How many possibilities were there? Too few, she acknowledged silently, and in reality, only one.
Yet she had to ask. ‘In return for what?’
One dark eyebrow slanted, and his voice held an edge of mockery. ‘Occupying my home, my bed.’
Her eyes blazed blue fire. ‘As your mistress?’
‘No.’
He sounded mildly amused, and at that moment she truly hated him.
‘Then … what?’ Lara demanded.
‘My wife.’
CHAPTER THREE
FOR a moment Lara lost the power of speech, and she felt the blood drain from her cheeks.
‘If this is a joke,’ she began shakily, ‘it’s in very bad taste.’
Wolfe observed her in silence, noting the way her eyes dilated and became dark, her slightly parted mouth as she unconsciously held her breath.
‘You can’t be serious?’ she managed at last. The concept was ludicrous. Beyond belief. Impossible.
‘Very serious,’ Wolfe assured her solemnly.
‘Why?’ It was a strangled, heart-wrenching cry from the depths of her soul.
‘Children.’
It took a few seconds for her to get it, and even then Wolfe chose to spell it out.
‘Our equal shares in the Alexander Conglomerate are consigned in trust to the issue of children from your marriage, and from my own. Something which will create complex difficulties, and ultimately cause the conglomerate to disintegrate in the next generation.’ He waited a beat as his gaze speared her own. ‘It won’t happen if you and I wed each other and the children stipulated in Darius’ will issue from our marriage.’
‘You’re offering me a business deal that will tie up a few loose ends and keep everything in the family?’ Lara deduced with deceptive quietness. ‘Does that bother you?’
The thought of being a ‘loose end’ didn’t sit well.
‘Yes, damn it!’ She took a deep breath, then let it out slowly. Aiming for cool, calm and collected was proving difficult when there was an internal battle going on. ‘You’re proposing a convenient marriage?’ She was on a roll. ‘Which will entail …?’
‘Sharing a home, a partnership in bed and out of it. A generous allowance.’ He lifted a shoulder in a negligible shrug. ‘An enviable lifestyle. Children, eventually, God willing.’ He paused fractionally. ‘Is that sufficiently specific?’
He was still. Too still, like a predator indolently waiting to pounce.
‘And, if I refuse, you’ll withdraw your offer to transfer funds.’ Her voice shook with the effort it cost her to speak.
‘Yes.’
She picked up her water goblet, and barely restrained the urge to throw the contents in his face.
For a few timeless seconds her eyes blazed with anger as they collided with his, and it took all her control to restore the goblet onto the table.
‘A wife, bought and paid for.’
His expression hardened a little at her succinct summation, and his grey eyes assumed the colour of dark slate.
A silent war rose to the fore, and she battled against the unbearable need to hit him.
It didn’t help that he knew.
‘Don’t discount the offer, Lara,’ Wolfe warned with dangerous silkiness. ‘You have no other option.’
Wasn’t that the truth! Yet the fact rankled unbearably.
‘You expect me to meekly comply?’
Meek and Lara didn’t feature on the same page, he mused idly. The smitten teenager of ten years ago had grown in spirit and attitude to become the fiercely independent young woman seated opposite him today. Who, despite being down and almost out, could still attempt to do battle with him.
Wolfe leaned back in his chair. ‘The choice is yours.’
Some choice.
A deal with the Devil … or the Devil to pay. It was no contest.
‘If … if I agree,’ she continued in a voice stiff with latent anger, ‘When do you envisage the marriage to take place?’ ‘As soon as it can be arranged, by special licence.’
That soon.
‘Provide me with all the relevant paperwork involving your debts, and I’ll take care of them.’
‘When?’ It sounded so mercenary, but she was past caring.
‘The funds you so urgently need will be available in your bank tomorrow. The balance authorized immediately after our signatures appear on the marriage certificate.’
This is business, she reminded herself bitterly, with no sentiment or trust where money was involved.
However, it rankled … badly. Her chin lifted a little and her eyes assumed a deep sapphire-blue.
‘I want to continue running my restaurant.’ It was her pride and joy … more. And she refused to give it up.
