Читать книгу Latin Lovers: Seductive Frenchman: Chosen as the Frenchman's Bride / The Frenchman's Captive Wife / The French Doctor's Midwife Bride - Эбби Грин, Fiona Lowe - Страница 16

Nearly Four Months Later

JANE shouldered her way through the door of her one-bedroom ground-floor flat, shutting out the noise of the traffic and wailing sirens. She was soaked. Autumn was here with a vengeance. She dropped the bags of shopping and kicked off her shoes with relief, taking off her layers and leaving them to drip dry in the bathroom. She ran a quick hot bath and afterwards wrapped herself in her dressing gown, feeling a little better. She would have to be more careful. She sat gratefully on her sofa, placing a hand on her belly. She still couldn’t believe she was pregnant. But she was.

She remembered the shock of that day when, after weeks of relentless nausea on her return from France and then no sign of her period, dread had settled in her heart. Finally, one day after work, she had worked up the nerve to buy an over the counter test. A positive result. Confirmed by the doctor.

She hadn’t told anyone yet. Not even her mother. Even now she was barely able to contain her heartbreak. It was far, far worse than she had imagined. She had fobbed Lisa off when asked about the holiday, being vague, and Lisa thankfully had responded with her usual exasperated roll of the eyes, before launching into the latest adventure of her own love-life.

Her hand moved abstractedly over her belly. She had never contemplated not keeping the baby. That wasn’t an option. She sighed heavily as the object of her every waking and sleeping thought intruded.

Xavier.

She knew she couldn’t live a lie, couldn’t have the baby and not have the truth known. She had to let him know. But how to tell him? How to get in touch with him? How to be prepared in case he got heavy-handed and demanded … what? Jane remembered him telling her that he was last in his line. No doubt an heir figured somewhere in his future. Just not with someone like her.

But would he demand she hand over the baby? She felt a sliver of fear. She didn’t think he would be capable, but then he was so powerful. An heir to his fortune was important, necessary for the survival of the island …

She would have to be strong and not let him bully her. She doubted he’d want to be saddled with a small baby anyway. It would seriously cramp his lifestyle.

She grimaced. She’d gone from a world where Xavier had never existed to one in which, since she’d come home, every paper she opened seemed to have a picture of him. In New York, Paris, Milan … In each place a new fortune being made, a new woman on his arm. Each time like a knife in her heart.

She got up wearily and went through the motions of cooking dinner, eating it and tasting nothing. Afterwards she went into the bathroom and saw the pool of water on the floor under her dripping clothes. She went to get the Sunday papers she was about to throw away, opening them out on the floor to soak up the water.

For a second she didn’t even notice that she’d stopped breathing, then shook her head as if to clear it. The photo and the words didn’t disappear. It was the business section. His face stared at her starkly from the page under a headline:

FRENCH BILLIONAIRE IN UK TO SAVE AILING

HOTEL CHAIN

Xavier Salgado-Lézille, the French entrepreneur, owner of Lézille island and the exclusive hotel chain of the same name, is in London this week in negotiations to save the once luxurious chain of Lancaster hotels …

In recent times they have deteriorated …

Has his own offices in the City …

Other companies interested in his expertise …

Why do we have to look abroad to be saved …?

The words swam up at her from the page. She sank down oblivious to the wet floor. Checked the date. Yesterday. That meant he was here this week. Incredibly.

She read it again. He had offices in the City. She went to her phone book and checked with nerveless fingers. Sure enough, there it was, the address and phone number. Why hadn’t she thought of that before? She checked the clock. It was still business hours. Just.

Before she could think or lose her nerve she dialled the number from the book. A crisp voice answered. She asked to be put through to Xavier’s personal secretary.

‘Hello, Molly Parker here.’

‘Hello … are you Mr Salgado-Lézille’s personal secretary?’

‘Yes, I am. May I ask who is calling please?’

‘It’s … my name is Jane Vaughan. Could you tell him please that I’d like to make an appointment to see him?’

Her heart was beating so hard and fast she was surprised the other woman couldn’t hear it. Her hands felt slippery with sweat.

His assistant sounded suspicious. ‘Very well—please hold for a moment.’

After a couple of agonising minutes she came back on the line. ‘Mr Salgado will see you at ten-thirty tomorrow morning. He’s very busy, you know—’

‘I’m well aware of that. I won’t take up much of his time, thank you.’

Jane put down the phone with a shaking hand. Automatically she placed a hand on her belly and sank into the sofa. The phone rang again, shrill in the room. She jumped violently, picking it up warily, as if it would bite her.

‘Oh, Mum it’s you … No, I wasn’t expecting anyone else—don’t be silly.’

In the course of the conversation Jane decided it was time to break the news. Now that she was going to see Xavier and tell him. After all, she was beginning to show.

Her mother was disappointed that Jane was going to have the baby on her own, knowing all too well how hard it had been for her after Jane’s father died, and she was worried because she and Arthur were going to be leaving England, but Jane made sure to reassure her on that score. The last thing she wanted was to be responsible for Arthur not being able to take his new bride away to their new life. He had grown up in South Africa, and after the honeymoon he had persuaded her mother to emigrate to the warmer climes of Cape Town.

Jane knew her mother was stubborn and that Arthur would do whatever she wanted. They were due to leave in three weeks, and Jane was determined that they go. She hoped she had done the right thing in telling her.

As if the telephone wires were buzzing, the phone rang again shortly after. It was Lisa. She decided to tell her too, feeling a little more weight lift off her shoulders. She refused to say who the father was, only that she was going to see him the next day and that, no, he wouldn’t be a part of her life.

After the initial screech Lisa was for once stunned into silence. Jane managed to see the humour and appreciate this uncustomary role-reversal. It was nice to have the support of a friend, but she declined her offer to come with her. She had to face Xavier alone.

The following morning in the cab, Jane tried to quell the mammoth butterflies in her stomach. She felt nauseous, and knew it wasn’t morning sickness. She hadn’t had that in a few weeks now. The thought of seeing Xavier again had her blood running cold through her veins. Then hot. How would he look in this climate? Somehow less? As if! She knew all too well that he would stand out like an exotic hothouse flower.

Luckily, after an intensely busy period with work, the teacher she had been subbing for had returned from sick leave, and Jane as yet hadn’t been placed anywhere else. She couldn’t contemplate it right now.

The cab drew up under an ominously grey sky outside a huge gleaming building.

Salgado-Lézille Enterprises.

After she got out she fought the urge to turn around, step right back into the cab and tell the driver to go back to her flat. Instead she put one foot in front of the other.

Inside the building there was a hushed reverence more in keeping with a cathedral. No doubt because the boss was in attendance, she thought darkly.

At the reception desk she gave her name and got a security tag. Then she was directed to the top floor. The lift was entirely glass, and she could see the ground floor slip away. The panic rose again.

After agonisingly long seconds it came to a stop and the door swished open with a little ping. She stepped into a luxuriously carpeted hall. A pretty girl behind a desk took her name again, and told her where she could wait on a comfortable couch just outside some huge imposing oak doors. Jane had dressed down, in jeans, sneakers and a sweater. She didn’t want him to think she was coming here for anything else. And she was protective of her small telltale bump.

The door opened and her heart jumped into her mouth. It revealed a matronly woman with a neat grey bob. She emerged, holding out a hand.

‘Hello, dear, you must be Jane. I’m Molly, Mr Salgado’s UK assistant. Please come through.’

Jane stuttered a few words and followed her into an office where Molly took her coat and stopped outside another set of doors. It was like Fort Knox. She rapped lightly on the door, and opened it before turning to let Jane pass through. She felt a hysterical moment of wanting to bury her head in this woman’s chest and have her tell her it would all be OK. But she didn’t.

When she walked in she couldn’t see Xavier at first, the office was so big. She felt at a serious disadvantage. The door clicked shut behind her.

Then she saw him. Standing with hands in his pockets in an exquisite suit before a huge window that took in the whole of London, or so it seemed. His tall dark shape was silhouetted against the skyline. Master of all he surveyed.

The blood rushed to her head and there was a roaring in her ears. He was saying something, coming towards her. She could feel herself swaying for an interminable moment, but just before she fell strong arms came around her and then she was half-sitting, half-lying on some sort of chaise longue. Xavier was crouching down beside her, holding a glass with some dark liquid.

‘Here—take a sip of this. You’re whiter than a ghost.’

In such close proximity every cell jumped to zinging life. So much for hoping that any attraction might have diminished. It was still there, like a plug going back into a socket. The energy running between them was palpable.

She moved to sit up. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened …’

‘When was the last time you ate?’

‘What?’

‘Food—you know, we use it to stay alive. You look as though you haven’t eaten a square meal in weeks.’

Jane stifled a defensive retort. She knew she’d lost weight since she’d got home, but she just hadn’t had time … and the doctor had reassured her that it was quite a normal phenomenon to actually lose weight when first becoming pregnant.

‘I’m fine … it’s isn’t any concern of yours what I eat or don’t eat.’

He left the untouched glass on a table beside her and stepped away. ‘Of course not … To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?’

Jane stood, not liking the way he was towering over her, and was relieved that the dizziness had dissipated somewhat.

‘I’ve come to tell you something.’

His gaze slanted down at her, no trace of warmth on his face.

‘Ah … could it be that you’re having second thoughts about my offer? Back in the cold, grey reality of England you’re realising what an opportunity you passed up?’

She looked at him blankly for a second before exploding, nerves making her reaction stronger. ‘Unbelievable … how arrogant is that? You know, I never thought you had such an inflated sense of self, but obviously I was wrong.’

‘Well, then, why are you here?’ he sneered. ‘Hardly to catch up on old times, eh? As I seem recall you were only too eager to see the back of me that morning … couldn’t even wait to say goodbye.’

Her head started to pound. This wasn’t going to plan. First almost fainting, and now he thought she wanted to be his mistress after all.

‘No … I mean yes. Look, I really do have something to tell you, and it’s not easy …’ She looked at him beseechingly.

She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him sit down behind his desk. Space. She sat down on the other side, her hands held tight together in her lap.

‘The fact is … I know I said that I thought it was OK, but I was wrong … the truth is …’

‘Yes?’ he bit out impatiently.

She squared her chin and looked at him unflinchingly. ‘I’m pregnant.’

The words dropped into a deafening silence. He didn’t react. His face was like a mask, Jane had a moment of clarity when she knew that was why he was so successful at business—a perfect poker face. He got up and went to stand at the window with his back to her.

‘Xavier …’

‘I heard you,’ he said, in a curiously flat voice. Then he turned around abruptly, green eyes pinning her to the spot.

‘It’s mine?’ A slight inflection made it a question.

She stood angrily, her whole frame quivering. ‘Well, of course it’s yours … how dare you imply that you might not be the father? I haven’t had time to do anything since I got home much less find a new lover and try to get pregnant in the gleeful anticipation of tracking you down and trying to pass the baby off as yours.’

He ran an impatient hand through his hair, and for the first time she noticed lines on his face that she didn’t remember. He looked tired.

‘Look, I’m sorry … it’s just a bit much to take in. How much … when are you due?’

‘In March.’

‘It must have been that first time.’

‘Yes.’ Jane felt a blush ascending from her chest all the way up to her face. Couldn’t stop the torrent of images that were all too frequent, haunting her imagination. She tried to avoid his focus. She started babbling. ‘Ah … look, I just wanted to let you know. The last thing I want is for you to feel that you have to be responsible for anything … I don’t expect anything from you at all. I’m going to bring the baby up myself. Of course you can come and see him … or her … whenever you want. Why don’t I let you get used to the idea?’

She placed a card on the table. ‘That’s my address and number.’

She was practically at the door before he seemed to break himself out of his stupor. ‘Jane, wait … we need to talk about this.’

Just then the door opened, and Molly appeared with some men behind her.

‘Not now, Molly, please.’

Even Jane balked at the barely leashed anger in his voice, but Molly seemed to have weathered worse, and stood her ground.

‘Mr Salgado, it’s the men from Tokyo … remember, they only have one hour in London before they have to fly to New York? You yourself specifically requested this meeting.’

Jane took full advantage of the opportunity and fled before he could stop her, grabbing her coat, mumbling a goodbye to Molly.

Xavier tried to keep his mind on the meeting after Jane left but, the truth was that he was blown away. Everything was distilled down to her and the fact that she was pregnant. He still felt remnants of the pure elation that had surged through him when he had seen her again. Then the concern that had ripped through him when she had gone so white and almost collapsed. The feel of her slender body in his arms … his inappropriate response.

Alone again in his office, he held her card in his hand. The truth was that he had been in possession of her address for a couple of months now. It hadn’t been hard to trace her. He wasn’t sure if he’d really planned on getting in touch with her. But one thing was for certain: he hadn’t been able to get her out of his head. Oh, he had tried. With various women. But when it had come to it, he just couldn’t. Her face, the smell of her body … the way she had responded to his touch … would flash into his head and render him more or less impotent.

Him … impotent!

He obviously just hadn’t had enough of her—needed to get her out of his system once and for all. When he’d heard she had phoned he had thought it was because she’d realised the same thing. But it wasn’t.

Pregnant. The word fell heavily into his head. It brought up images, memories … A dark emotion threatened to rise up. His fists clenched. He wouldn’t think about that now. Things were complicated. However, he knew what he wanted with a fierceness that surprised him. He didn’t want to look too closely at his reasoning yet, or why it was so strong, he just knew it was the only solution. And he knew exactly how to get to her to comply, whether she wanted to or not. Uncomfortably he was aware that it was more than likely not. And he didn’t like how that felt.

That evening Jane tried to relax. It was impossible. Her whole body felt as though it had received an injection of some vital life force energy. When she had got back to the flat she’d changed into tracksuit bottoms and an old baggy sweatshirt.

Xavier was in the country, and as long as he was she couldn’t rest easy. She hoped that he would just leave her alone. Let her get on with things.

The doorbell rang.

It couldn’t be … could it? She went towards the door, her hands balled into fists, opening it warily.

‘Dominic.’ She breathed a sigh of relief, but also felt a stab of disappointment. Lisa’s brother stood on the doorstep. She hadn’t seen him since she’d got back, had avoided his persistent calls.

‘Come in … what are you doing here?’ She ushered him into the sitting room.

He was shy, as usual, not really able to meet her eye. ‘Look, I won’t beat around the bush … Lisa told me about your … being pregnant.’

A blush stained his freckled cheeks, and Jane’s heart went out to him, but she didn’t interrupt.

‘The thing is, Jane … well, you know how I feel about you.

I came to say that I’m here if you need someone to lean on. That is, if you’d have me, I’d marry you.’

A lump came into her throat. ‘Oh, Dominic … that’s so sweet. I’m very flattered that you would offer to marry me, but the truth is—’

The doorbell rang again. Jane muttered an apology and went to open it.

Xavier.

Standing on the doorstep, crowding the small doorway.

The breath was driven from her lungs and her body reacted spectacularly, a million miles away from what her head was trying to impose on it. She felt a tremor start in her legs.

She had completely forgotten about Dominic until she heard him behind her. ‘Janey, love, are you all right? Do you know this man?’

She came out of her reverie.

‘Yes.’

She let Xavier pass her to come into the small hall, feeling a hysterical giggle bubbling up from somewhere deep in her belly.

‘Dominic, this is Xavier Salgado-Lézille. Xavier, this is Dominic Miller—an old friend of mine.’

The men looked at each other with deep suspicion. Jane knew she had to put Dominic out of his misery. She threw a quelling look at Xavier and showed him into the sitting room, shutting the door behind him.

Leading Dominic away from the door, she said, ‘Xavier is my baby’s father … and it wouldn’t be fair to take you up on your offer because …’ her voice gentled ‘… I’m not in love with you.’

‘Are you in love with him?’

She nodded her head mutely.

‘Is he in love with you?’

She shook her head. ‘But he will take care of me and the baby if I so wish. I know that. You don’t have to worry about me.’

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, making him colour again.

‘Are you sure you’re OK …? I can stay if you want.’

Jane shook her head, ignoring her rapid pulse. Dominic was no match for Xavier.

She let him out, the difference in the two men comical as they passed in the hallway. At the sitting room door took a deep breath before going in.

Xavier was pacing the small room, dwarfing it with his size and presence.

‘Who was that?’

She bristled at the proprietorial tone in his voice, hating the effect he was having on her.

‘He’s my best friend’s brother.’

‘What did he want?’

‘It’s none of your business what he wanted.’ She sat down to disguise the trembling in her legs, then contradicted herself, saying disbelievingly, ‘As a matter of fact, he asked me to marry him.’

‘Did you say yes … Janey, love?’ Xavier’s voice was sharp.

She looked up. His face was shuttered, his eyes giving nothing away. Her heart twisted at the mocking way he repeated Dominic’s friendly endearment.

‘What’s it to you? I can marry whoever I want.’

He hauled her up against his chest so quickly that she didn’t have time to protest before his mouth descended and his lips found hers. After a second of shock she was like someone dying of thirst who had found water in the desert. With a small whimper she wrapped her arms around his neck, and their tongues collided in a heated feverish dance.

Time stood still.

She was home.

Then he thrust her away from him.

‘That’s why it’s my business. You’re carrying my baby—and don’t tell me you react like that with everyone.’

Shocked blue eyes clashed with blistering green.

‘That’s why, if you marry anyone, it’ll be me. No one else. Our baby deserves to be brought up within a marriage. He is going to be my heir, and as such will be afforded the necessary ceremony for his inheritance.’

The shock of what he was suggesting rendered her speechless for a moment.

‘I will not marry you just for the sake of an heir. Don’t be so ridiculous … It would be a sham … and anyway it could be a girl,’ she pointed out somewhat pedantically.

He threw off his overcoat and jacket, loosening his tie. He was like a panther in a confined space. Hands on hips.

‘Boy or girl … You would deny our child—possibly the only child I may ever have—its inheritance?’

Jane gasped. ‘Are you threatening me? That if I don’t marry you then you will effectively deny its existence?’

‘It won’t be up to me … Before my father died he added a codicil to his will stating that should I have any children outside marriage they wouldn’t be entitled to anything. It was his way of ensuring the line would continue in our family’s name, ensuring that the island stays in the family.’ He shrugged. ‘He was very conservative, and there’s no way around it.’

She had a sudden memory of the numerous pictures of Xavier with countless women in the press, and words tumbled out, barely coherent to her muddled brain.

‘You’ve had to check that out already? Maybe you have other children dotted around the world—Milan, Paris—?’

He took her by the shoulders. ‘No, I don’t. I don’t make a habit of jumping in and out of bed with countless partners, and I always make sure I’m protected…. Just with you … with you something happened.’

His hands were biting into her shoulders. Something had happened, all right, and she could see how much he hated to admit it. It was in every strained line in his face. He had been taken over by the lust of the moment, whereas she had been taken over by much, much more. She could remember all too well what had happened. She had let good sense out and madness in. She tried to avoid his probing gaze.

‘OK … maybe you don’t, but what you’re suggesting is positively medieval. Surely in this day and age—’

‘Did you really think I’d just walk away? I’m offering you everything on a plate … security, respectability, a name for our child.’

Everything but yourself … This heir is everything to him … as important as she had suspected.

She sought for rational words in a brain that was fast becoming fuzzier and fuzzier. ‘He or she could still take your name, if it’s that important. I can’t … please don’t make me …’

‘There’s no need to go green. It doesn’t have to be a completely unpleasant experience. We’re still attracted to each other—you can’t deny feeling it too, the minute you walked into my office today.’

He didn’t have to remind her of that mortifying fact. She brought huge wary eyes up to his. ‘Yes, but that’s all, isn’t it?’

His face was expressionless. He shrugged negligently. ‘It’s more than a lot of people start out with. Jane, I’m thirty-six. It’s time I got married and produced an heir.’

She felt a hysterical laugh bubble up again. ‘It’s almost as if I’ve fallen in with some cosmic plan to save your family legacy.’

The lines in his face were harsh, and suddenly she didn’t feel like laughing. This was all too real.

‘Don’t mock me, Jane. There aren’t many women who would turn down an offer like this.’

Even though his words reeked with arrogance, she didn’t doubt for a second that what he said was true. She just happened to hold the ace. His seed inside her belly. Lucky her. She had pipped all the contenders to the post. She tried another tack.

‘Yes, but most people start out with love, however misguided … at least it’s there to start.’

‘And where does it leave them in the end? At least we would be going into this with eyes open—without the illusion of love to cloud things. I believe we have something we can work on, Jane. I wouldn’t suggest it otherwise.’

She shifted out from under his hands and sank back down onto the couch, feeling hunted.

Something we can work on …

She knew all too well what he meant. It saturated the air around them.

He hunched down before her, not letting her evade his compelling gaze. ‘Jane, the future of Lézille is at stake if I don’t provide an heir. This could be my only child.’

She looked at him, helpless.

The doorbell rang again. Xavier went to answer it. She didn’t even notice. But she did when she heard the voices. Her mother and Arthur. She closed her eyes. It couldn’t get any worse.

Her mother came into the room with one brow arched so high that it almost met her hairline.

‘Hello, Mum.’ Jane hugged her, feeling the onset of tears in her maternal presence.

She quickly made the introductions, without saying precisely who Xavier was, but she could see that her mother had deduced exactly what his role was.

Unbelievably, Xavier offered to go into the kitchen to make some tea, leaving them alone for a few minutes and making her feel even more confused. How could he come in here and take over so effortlessly? Her mother and Arthur were certainly looking after him with barely disguised awe.

‘So that’s …?’ Arthur nodded in the direction of Xavier’s retreating back.

Jane nodded miserably.

‘Well, darling, you don’t look very happy about it,’ her mother whispered.

I’m not!

Her mother and Arthur looked at each other before linking hands. The lump grew in her throat again.

‘Dear … we’ve had a long think, and we came to tell you that if you’re still determined to go it alone … we’re going to stay here in England.’

Jane started to protest and her mother shushed her, holding up a hand. ‘Now, I know what you’re going to say, but it’s decided … There is no way we can leave you here on your own to bring up that child, and that’s final.’

Despite the encouraging smiles on their faces, she could see how hard it had been for them to make this decision. And there was no way she could let them. Her Mum’s happiness involved Arthur too. And right now they came first. She could mess up her own life, but not the life of this woman in front of her, who had sacrificed so much already.

She heard Xavier’s step approach the sitting room and knew what she had to do. She went with her gut. In that split second she knew she was about to make a choice that was going to change her life. She hoped and prayed that it was the right one. She didn’t have time to consider the ramifications.

He came in to the room with a laden tray. Jane waited until he had put it down and the tea was passed out before speaking, and tried to keep a steady voice.

‘Mum, Arthur … I really appreciate what you want to do for me, but you see there’s no need.’

She glanced at Xavier’s ever unreadable face. She wasn’t going to get any help there. She took a deep breath.

‘You don’t have to stay here because … you see … I’m not going to be here.’

Her mother and Arthur looked at each other blankly, then at Xavier and then at her.

‘What are you talking about, dear?’

Jane mentally crossed her fingers and took poetic licence with her recent conversation with Xavier. ‘Xavier has asked me to marry him … and I am going to say … yes.’

She could hear a splutter of tea come from his corner of the room. Then she was enveloped in hugs and tears and congratulations. Xavier joined in and answered questions vaguely. She was very aware of his sharp, assessing eyes on her all the time.

She knew she had done the right thing, however, when she saw the badly disguised relief on their faces at the prospect that their dream would be fulfilled after all.

Finally, after what seemed an age, they were gone. She went back into the sitting room to find Xavier standing at the window. He turned around and fixed her with hard eyes.

‘I gather that little charade was for the benefit of persuading your mother that she and her husband could emigrate after all?’

‘Well, it’s not going to be a charade unless you won’t marry me.’

He approached her softly, coming dangerously close. ‘If you were trying to call my bluff then it didn’t work. We will be getting married. I suppose I should have thanked your mother for helping you to come to your decision …’ He gave a short harsh laugh. ‘You couldn’t have made it clearer that it’s the last thing you’d be doing otherwise.’

‘You’re right. I hate you for this.’ Her chest felt tight and restricted, her hands clammy.

A savage intensity flashed over his face so briefly that she might have imagined it before it was gone, and he drawled, ‘That hate will just fuel our passion … because it is still there.’

She vowed there and then that there would be no passion. If he so much as touched her, she wasn’t sure that she could contain her feelings—and if he guessed for a second … her life would be hell.

He left with a promise to return and discuss things in the morning, and after the door shut behind him Jane sagged against it, the stuffing knocked out of her.

Despite everything that had just transpired, somewhere within herself she felt curiously at peace. Was she so straight that once she had agreed to doing ‘the right thing’ she felt good? It couldn’t be. What was more likely, she feared, was that she was such a masochist that even though being married to Xavier spelt certain heartbreak, it also meant she got to be with him … and seeing him again had proved how completely he held her heart in his hands.

The baby. How could she deny this little person access to his or her father? To their birth heritage? Especially one so rich—and not just in monetary terms. She knew instinctively that Xavier would be a good father.

Her mind went a more incendiary route. Would he be faithful if she refused to sleep with him? A man as virile and highly sexed as Xavier would not stand for a celibate marriage. How could she hope to live side by side with him and resist him? All she knew was that she had to, for now. Her emotions were too raw … too close to the surface. Maybe in time, when they were more under control, she could … remain detached. As if there ever could be such a time.

She went to bed with a heavy heart and slept fitfully.

The next morning when she opened the door to admit Xavier he took in her pinched face and the dark smudges under her eyes. The pang that struck him when he realised that he was the one who was making her look this unhappy gripped him unawares. He quashed it ruthlessly.

Jane eyed him warily with crossed arms as he effortlessly commanded her small flat again. He was dressed in a suit that hugged his frame, making him seem even more powerful, dynamic. He looked exotic and foreign, his tan standing out against the grimly grey backdrop outside. Stupendously gorgeous.

‘I’ve arranged for us to be married here in London in just over two weeks time at a register office. It’s the earliest I could arrange … Also it should be easier for your mother and Arthur to attend before they leave for South Africa. If there’s anyone else you want to witness it …’

His efficiency and ability to make the powers that be fall into his plans stunned her—and his unexpected sensitivity to accommodate her mother.

‘Well, yes …’ She thought of Lisa. ‘There’s one or two people, maybe …’

‘Bien. I have to go to New York today, and will be gone until the day of the wedding, so I trust that will give you time to pack up here, tie up any loose ends and inform your work. Molly can arrange to have this place let or sold, whichever you prefer.’

She spoke quickly. ‘Let … that is, I don’t want to sell it.’

Somehow the thought of severing all ties was too much just now.

He shrugged as if he didn’t care.

‘Fine. As you wish. I’ll let her know she can go ahead with arrangements and find a suitable agent?’

Jane nodded dumbly.

‘After the wedding we will stop over in Paris for a short honeymoon. We can replenish your wardrobe there.’ He eyed her casual attire critically. ‘You’ll have a certain role to fulfil as my wife, and will need to be dressed suitably.’

His bossy tone was too much.

‘I think I know how to dress myself, thank you very much … You don’t have to spend your money on me.’

‘Very commendable, darling, but somehow I don’t think you could afford even the price tags on the kind of clothes I’m talking about,’ he drawled, with infuriating arrogance.

‘Fine …’ She threw her hands up. ‘If you want to spend thousands on making me into something I will never be except on paper, then go ahead and be my guest.’

He came and stood right in front of her. She could feel his breath warm on her face. Her heart lurched as he drifted a finger down one cheek and underneath to her neck, where her pulse was beating crazily against her skin.

‘Oh, but you will, Jane … you will. Trust me on that.’