Читать книгу In Bed With...Collection - Emma Darcy - Страница 24

‘I WANT you married.’

Bryce Templar gritted his teeth. It wasn’t the first time his father had made this demand. Undoubtedly it wouldn’t be the last, either. But he hadn’t come out of his way to visit the old man, still convalescing from his recent heart operation, to have another argument about his bachelor state.

He kept his gaze trained on the view, ignoring the contentious issue. The sun was setting, adding even more brilliant shades of colour to the stunning red rocks of Sedona. His father’s winter residence was certainly sited to capture one of the most striking panoramas nature had to offer, here in the Arizona desert. And of course, communing with nature was another thing Will Templar preached—spiritual peace, clean air, clean living…

‘Are you hearing me, boy?’

Bryce unclenched his jaw and slid his father a derisive look. ‘I’m not a boy, Dad.’

‘Still acting like one,’ came the aggressive grumble. ‘Here you are with your hair going grey and you’re not settled with a woman yet.’

‘I’m only thirty-four. Hardly over the hill. And you went grey in your thirties. It’s genetic.’

It wasn’t the only physical aspect of his father he’d inherited. They were both well over six feet tall, big men, though his father had lost quite a bit of weight over the past year and was looking somewhat gaunt in the face. They had the same strong nose, the same determined mouth, closely set ears, and while his father’s hair was now white, it was still as thick as his own.

The only feature he’d inherited from his mother was her eyes—heavier lidded than his father’s and green instead of grey. Will Templar’s eyes had been described in print as steely and incisive, but right now they were smoking at Bryce with irritable impatience.

‘I was married to your mother in my twenties.’

‘People married earlier in those days, Dad.’

‘You’re not even looking for a wife.’ He shook an admonishing finger. ‘You think I don’t hear about your bed-hopping with starlets in L.A.? Getting laid indiscriminately doesn’t sit well with me, son.’

Bryce barely stifled a sigh as he thought, Here comes the clean living lecture. ‘I don’t bed-hop and I’m not indiscriminate in my choice of playmate,’ he bit out. Hoping to avoid a diatribe on morals, he added, ‘You know how busy I am. I just don’t have the time to put into a relationship what women want out of it.’

It brought his father up from his lounger in a burst of angry energy. ‘Don’t tell me women don’t want marriage. They all want marriage. It’s not difficult to get a woman to say yes to that. And I’m living proof of it with five wives behind me.’

All of them walking away with a bundle, Bryce thought cynically. Except his mother who died before she’d got around to divorce. The billion dollar empire of Templar Resources could absorb the cost of hundreds of wives. It just so happened Bryce didn’t like the idea of being taken for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow ride.

If a woman wanted him…fine. Especially if he wanted her. But the occasional pleasure in bed did not warrant a gold ring and a gold passport to a hefty divorce settlement. Apart from which, he certainly didn’t need the aggravation of a demanding wife. He much preferred a walkaway situation.

‘You get married, Bryce, or I’ll put Damian in control of business, right over your head. Make him CEO until you do get a wife. That will free up your time,’ his father threatened.

‘And give you another heart attack when he messes up,’ Bryce mocked, knowing his half-brother’s limited vision only too well.

‘I mean it, boy! Time’s slipping by and I’m feeling my mortality these days. I want to see you married, and married soon. With a grandchild on the way, too. Within a year. Just get out there and choose a wife. You hear me?’

He was going red in the face. Concerned about his father’s blood pressure, Bryce instantly set aside the argument. ‘I hear you, Dad.’

‘Good! Then do it! And find a woman like your mother. She had a brain, as well as being beautiful.’ He sank back onto the cushions of the lounger, taking quick shallow breaths. The high colour gradually receded. ‘Worst day of my life when your mother died.’

Bryce couldn’t remember it. He’d only been three years old. What he remembered was the succession of stepmothers who had waltzed into and out of his childhood and adolescence.

‘Got to think of the children,’ his father muttered. ‘Damian’s mother was a featherhead. Charming, sexy, but without a thought worth listening to.’ His eyes closed and his voice dropped to a mumble. ‘Damian’s a good boy. Not his fault he hasn’t got your brain. At least he’s guidable.’

Watching fatigue lines deepen on his face, making him look older than his sixty years, Bryce was troubled by the thought there was more to his father’s remark on feeling his mortality than he was letting on. Just how bad was his heart condition?

While they’d had this argument over marriage before, there’d never been a time-frame stipulated.

Within a year.

And the threat about Damian—empty though it was—added more weight to the demand, carrying a measure of desperation.

The sun had slipped below the horizon as they’d talked. The massive red rocks were darkening with shadows. Nothing stayed the same for long, Bryce reflected, and if time was running out for his father…well, why not please him by getting married?

It shouldn’t be too much of a problem.

He wouldn’t let it be.