Читать книгу Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain / The Moretti Arrangement: Billion-Dollar Baby Bargain / The Moretti Arrangement - Katherine Garbera - Страница 10

August, two years ago

The taxi pulled up outside the quaint white church where Suzy and Michael would be getting married tomorrow. Victoria paid the driver and leapt out, tugging her rollaway suitcase behind her.

“Hey, Victoria, over here.” Suzy stood in the churchyard, waving madly from behind a white-painted wooden gate, her curly blond hair bubbling about her face. “I’m so glad you made it.”

“Me, too.”

Opening the gate, Victoria abandoned her suitcase and stretched her arms out wide to give Suzy a fierce hug.

“When my plane was delayed I thought I was going to miss the wedding rehearsal.” She’d been away doing an audit for one of her largest clients. The text message from Suzy that she was getting married in five days’ time had shaken Victoria—although in hindsight it shouldn’t have. Over the past month, everything Suzy said had been prefaced by “Michael says.” But Victoria hadn’t expected the romance to escalate so quickly. “You certainly decided to get married in a hurry, didn’t you?”

Stepping away, Suzy grabbed Victoria’s hand. “Come see what the church committee is doing with the flowers.”

“You’re changing the subject,” Victoria said with fond frustration.

Suzy cast her a grin. “Tory, it’s too late to try and talk me out of marrying Michael tomorrow.”

Victoria smiled at the woman she’d pulled from more scrapes than she cared to remember. “Well, I hope Michael knows what he’s letting himself in for. Is he here yet?”

“He and Connor—his best man—” Suzy tacked on at Victoria’s questioning glance, “are on their way. We’re taking you both out to dinner tonight to celebrate. I booked a table at Bentley’s.” She did a little jig. “I can’t believe it’s the last night we’ll spend apart. Michael can’t wait for tomorrow, either. Come on.”

“Wait, let me grab my bag.” With a laugh, Victoria reached for the bag and let Suzy lead her through a courtyard overflowing with ivy and rambling roses, rolling her bag behind her.

The late afternoon sun filtered through the branches of a lofty Norfolk pine, casting shadows across the sundial in the centre of the courtyard.

Victoria came to a halt. Suzy slowed. “What now?”

“Suz, don’t you think it might’ve been better to wait? You’ve only—”

“Known Michael for a month,” interrupted Suzy, finishing the sentence with the familiar ease that came from twenty-four years of friendship, “but I knew after an hour that he was The One.”

“But Suz—”

Suzy stamped her foot, managing to look sweet and determined at the same time. “No, don’t say anything more. Just be happy for us. Please.”

Now, how on earth was she supposed to withstand Suzy’s puppy-dog eyes? Truth was she’d never been able to say no to Suzy, despite the fact that Victoria was supposed to be the sensible one.

The sound of footsteps prevented Victoria from responding. She glanced around and her eyes widened.

It wasn’t Michael—much as she liked him—who snagged her attention, but rather the dark-haired man who strode into the churchyard beside him. Tall and powerfully built with features that could’ve been carved from granite—angled cheekbones, a blade of a nose and a hard mouth—he made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

Victoria recognized the animal. She’d met them, done audits for the super-successful companies.

A tycoon.

Rich. Assured. Ruthless.

And this was Michael’s best man? Edging slowly forward, she glanced from one man to the other.

Michael’s fair good looks dimmed against the other man’s dark strength. They were as different as day from night. Where had Michael found him?

She must have said something because his gaze met hers. That was when her stomach flipped over. In contrast to his swarthy skin his pale-gray eyes held the unnerving translucence of crystal. But they contained utterly no emotion.

Ruthless.

“Connor North.”

He spoke in a crisp baritone, and Victoria instantly recognized the name. From its outset Harper-North Architecture had garnered buzz and awards for innovative restoration of Victorian homesteads and plans for cutting-edge new commercial buildings.

With reluctance Victoria took the hand he held out. A hard hand ridged with calluses clasped hers—hardly the hand of an office-bound paper pusher.

Yet from everything she’d heard, Connor North was very much a corporate animal. Financially astute, frighteningly efficient and with an uncanny talent for picking projects that would become landmarks. There was certainly no need for him to busy himself with the manual labor that the ridges on his palms suggested he did. The man was worth a fortune—and accumulating more. Last she’d heard Harper-North was considering launching a commercial-property venture to develop many of Auckland’s old dockside warehouses into exclusive waterfront retail complexes. It would be a feather in her cap to land him as a client—and no doubt he’d be able to introduce her to some of the blue-chip companies he was associated with. One or two more accounts like that and she’d be propelled into the upper echelons of Archer, Cameron & Edge.

He glanced down pointedly at their joined hands. A flare of embarrassment seared her as Victoria realized she still clutched his hand. Daydreaming. She dropped it as if she’d been scorched by a flaming torch.

Even Suzy was staring at her. “Do you two know each other?”

Victoria shook her head, not trusting her voice.

“No.” Connor North clearly didn’t suffer from the same affliction.

“Connor, meet Suzy’s oldest friend, Victoria Sutton.” Michael gave her an easy smile. “Despite his reputation, Connor won’t bite.”

Victoria wasn’t so sure. Connor North looked capable of doing a lot worse than biting.

“Victoria is a partner at ACE,” Michael informed Connor.

Victoria knew she should be grateful for the punt, because she should be doing everything she could to land his very lucrative account.

Instead, when Connor gave her the opportunity of a lifetime by asking, “The accounting firm?” she could only manage a nod, not trusting her voice. Her stomach, thankfully, seemed to have recovered from the tumbling sensation that had shaken her when she had first looked into his eyes.

Bridget Edge, managing partner of Archer, Cameron & Edge Accounting, would be horrified to see her now. Faced with the opportunity of a lifetime, Victoria couldn’t think of anything vaguely professional to say. All she could think of was getting as far away from the man as she could. He made her feel…the best word she could come up with was…unsettled.

Still prickling with a mix of apprehension and a weird kind of tingling sensation, Victoria allowed Suzy to shepherd her up the stone stairs into the church while Michael disappeared to put her suitcase in his car.

Inside the church a group of elderly ladies busily arranging white lilies and pristine long-stemmed roses in tall flower stands greeted Suzy with cries of delight. When Michael returned there were chirps about how fortunate he was to be marrying Suzy, and Victoria saw Connor North’s mouth turn down at the corners.

He didn’t want Michael to marry Suzy!

The realization rocked Victoria. How could anyone disapprove of dear, sweet Suzy?

For the next fifteen minutes Michael smiled indulgently while Suzy cheerfully ordered everyone around and Connor grew increasingly remote.

His phone rang six times while Suzy talked nonstop. Each time, Connor pulled his cell phone out of his pocket, glanced at it, then let it continue to ring.

Victoria could feel herself growing tenser as Connor’s disapproving silence continued, and she was ready to scream by the time Suzy called a halt, finally satisfied that the groom, the groomsman and the maid of honor knew what was expected of them.

“I want tomorrow to be perfect.” Suzy dimpled a smile at Victoria and moved on to include Connor, too. “Michael and I just want to thank the church ladies for the wonderful job they’ve done with the flowers, then we’ll meet you outside.”

“We’ve been dismissed.” Connor gave a grimace that Victoria supposed passed for a smile and stood aside for her to walk ahead of him up the aisle.

Conscious of him stalking behind her, Victoria increased her pace.

As they neared the vestibule his phone rang again. He checked it and this time said, “Excuse me, Verity, I have to take this call.”

Victoria pursed her lips. “Victoria.”

Connor North stared at her blankly with all the interest of someone examining a moth on the wall. It did nothing to endear him to her. She’d been away on an audit all week. She was hot, tired and he had her in such a tizz, while he barely knew she existed.

“Victoria,” she repeated tersely. “My name is Victoria.”

His gaze raked her and Victoria became aware that her white blouse was creased from the flight, that her long, straight black skirt clung to her hips and must make her look like a scrawny scarecrow. She ran her fingers past her ears, through her hair, and was relieved to find that the shoulder-length bob was as sleek as ever.

“Sure.” Connor shrugged dismissively, and turned away to answer his cell phone.

Victoria followed slowly as he strode out of the church, knowing she ought to care that he’d seen her annoyance. After all, he would be an A-list client. But did she want to deal with him?

No, she decided.

In fact, she could think of nothing worse.

Verity, indeed! Clearly all women were interchangeable in his mind. Like gray cats in the night…

Startled, she pulled her thoughts up short. Where had that come from? There was no chance she would ever be one of Connor North’s gray cats. Although his women would be far from gray. No doubt he was the kind of man who went for decorative, desirable D-cups.

A rueful downward glance reminded her that she would be no contender.

Skinny. Beanstalk. Swot. Four-eyes. She had to remind herself that the ugly labels were no longer true, and that only Suzy knew that pathetic creature had ever existed. It was ancient history. In the past. Now she held a partnership in a well-respected accounting firm. No one could take that away from her. She’d fought for it, not allowing cruel, childish taunts or her neglectful parents to roadblock her journey to success…and independence.

Forcing herself not to dwell on the old, self-destructive memories, Victoria fixed a bright smile to her face as she stepped through the carved church doors to the vestibule where Connor paced, his cell phone glued to his ear. She let the scent of lavender hedges in the courtyard outside swirl around her, and slowly serenity returned.

“Michael and Suzy have booked a table to take us to dinner,” she told Connor when his call ended, in case he planned to bolt off on a hot date, forgetting all about the bridal couple.

His mouth flattened. “I’m quite sure Michael and Suzy would prefer to spend a quiet evening together before the rush of tomorrow’s wedding.”

Why hadn’t she thought of that?

As they started down the stone steps that led to the courtyard, Victoria noticed with surprise that Connor dwarfed her. It wasn’t often that a man made her feel downright dainty.

In the courtyard Suzy and Michael caught up to them. After tomorrow Victoria knew their friendship would never be the same again. A sense of loss filled her, yet she’d never seen Suzy look happier.

She remembered Connor’s clever suggestion. “Wouldn’t the two of you prefer to have dinner alone tonight?”

Suzy dumped a basket of hymn books into Victoria’s arms. “Here, you’ll need to give these to the ushers to hand out tomorrow at the door. And of course we want to take the two of you out—we’ll have the rest of our lives to spend alone together.” Suzy gave Michael a bittersweet smile and Victoria wondered if he, too, had seen the shadows in Suzy’s eyes as she spoke…or knew the reason for them.

The way he put an arm across Suzy’s shoulders and pulled her close suggested he did. “Victoria, you’re Suzy’s oldest friend, and Connor’s the closest thing I’ve got to a brother. It will be great for the four of us to have dinner together.”

Michael was so nice, Victoria decided. Maybe Suzy hadn’t made a mistake. About to give Michael a grateful smile for setting to rest the doubts that Connor had raised, Victoria paused as she intercepted the glacial look Connor shot Michael.

What was that about?

Yet Michael, bless him, smiled in the face of Connor’s icy disapproval. He clapped a hand on his best man’s shoulder and leant forward to murmur something that caused Connor’s pale eyes to flare with suppressed emotion as he shot Victoria a look of intense dislike.

What had she done to deserve that? The unexpected unease he’d already roused in her coalesced into a hard ball of antipathy.

As Michael went to fetch his car, Suzy added, “After dinner I’m going home—alone.” She winked suggestively at Victoria. “I told Michael it’s unlucky for him to see the bride before the wedding and I’m determined not to do anything that might tip the scales against us.”

“You shouldn’t be getting married if you need superstitious hocus-pocus to make it last,” Connor said from behind them, causing both women to start.

As surprise—followed swiftly by hurt—flashed in Suzy’s eyes, Victoria swung around and saw no levity in the man’s strange eyes.

Outraged that he’d attacked sweet, effervescent Suzy the moment Michael had vanished, she forgot her own reservations about the hasty marriage. Coldly she pointed out, “But Suzy and Michael are getting married. They love each other. And there’s not a thing you can do about it.”

“Love?” Connor’s eyes glittered in the dwindling sunlight and his sharp bark of laughter caused Victoria to bristle defensively. “Is that what women call it?”

“It’s what Michael calls it, too.” A chill enveloped Victoria. She must be mad to challenge this man. “And what gives you the right to sit judgment on what Michael and Suzy feel for each other, anyway?”

He stared down his nose at her. “Love is overrated.”

Hoisting the basket of hymn books to stop them falling, she said, “If you’re that cynical then perhaps you shouldn’t have agreed to be Michael’s best man.”

“Victoria—”

“No, Suzy.” She broke free of the bride-to-be’s restraining arm. “What he said was rude and uncalled for.”

Suzy looked decidedly uncomfortable.

“Can I take those for you?” Connor had the basket before she could object.

“Thanks,” she said ungraciously.

“It looked like you were about to drop them.”

The superior tone annoyed her afresh. Victoria wondered if the hard, handsome man in front of her had ever apologized to anyone. He would, she vowed. “Are you proud of yourself?”

“For helping relieve you of the basket?” He tilted his head sideways. “I suppose I am.”

“That’s not what I mean.” And he knew it. Splaying her hands on her skinny hips, Victoria faced Connor down. She was taller than Suzy by a head, yet Connor still loomed over her. For a moment her resolve wavered; then she stiffened her spine. “Is that what you wanted?” She nodded to Suzy where she stood, her shoulders sagging. “You’re going to ruin her day if you carry on like this.”

There was a long, brooding silence.

“Sorry.” But he didn’t sound sorry in the least.

“That’s the best you can do?” demanded Victoria.

“I accept his apology,” Suzy said quickly. “I understand why he’s upset.”

“I’m not upset,” he growled, and gave Victoria a killing how-dare-you stare before stalking off in Michael’s wake, the basket swinging incongruously at his side.

“Jerk!” Victoria fumed. To her astonishment she found that her hands were trembling. She brushed them over her hair, more to regain her composure than to smooth the style. She was too tired to be tactful. “What does Michael see in the man?”

“Make allowances for him.” Suzy put a hand on her arm. “His girlfriend just dumped him for his business partner. It can’t be a good time for him.”

Victoria gave a derisive laugh. “I don’t blame her one bit. No sane woman could live with a jerk like him.”

“He’s hurting,” Suzy protested.

“Didn’t you hear the way he said ‘love’? Like it was something foreign to him. Connor North feels as much emotion as a slab of granite.”

“Michael says he doesn’t share much, so maybe he did love her. He’s been very good about it, even letting her keep the house.”

“I’m sure she deserved it.”

“Shh.” Suzy’s grip on her arm tightened. “He might hear you.”

“I don’t care.”

“Well, I do. C’mon, Tory, Michael and I were seriously hoping the two of you would become…well…friends.”

Friends with Connor North? Friendship implied affection, warmth and loyalty. Victoria couldn’t imagine Rock-Face ever exhibiting any of those qualities. She stared down at the person who knew her better than anyone in the world and gave a snort of disbelief. “You’re dreaming, Suz.”

Had Michael and Suzy been planning to match-make?

“Okay.” Suzy held up her hands. “I’m not going to argue, so let’s change the subject. I’ve been meaning to ask you, Tory, if you wouldn’t mind popping past the cottage to water the potted plants while we’re on honeymoon. Connor might forget.”

Victoria frowned suspiciously. “What do you mean ‘Connor might forget?’”

“He’s been staying with Michael this past week and the two of them have been working like dogs every evening to get the house all painted inside. And Connor will look after it while we’re on honeymoon—Michael dotes on that house.”

“I suppose I can drop round in my lunch hour—that way I won’t bump into him.” Then Victoria clicked her tongue. “Suzy, you’re not intending to start off your marriage with a houseguest, are you?”

“Oh, no, he’s not the type to be a third wheel—though he’s helped Michael heaps with the house. Michael could never have done as much alone. No, Connor will find a place while we’re on honeymoon. Michael just felt he needed a few days to get over the shock of losing his woman, his home and his business in one shot.”

Victoria steeled herself against a sneaky twinge of sympathy. However hard a time he’d had, it was no reason to attack Suzy. “I’m sure he’ll recover.”

“Please be nice to him, Tory.” Suzy stretched her blue eyes wide. “I don’t want the wedding photos ruined because the maid of honor and best man have a fistfight.”

No sane woman could live with a jerk like him.

Telling himself that the dislike was mutual didn’t stop the maid of honor’s words from rankling as Connor marched across the car park tucked away behind the church hall. He came to a stop where Michael Mason rummaged in the trunk of a modest Toyota parked in the dark shade of two tall pines.

“That woman is a menace.” Connor dropped the basket filled with hymn books into the trunk next to the black rollaway bag.

The groom’s head came up, and the brown eyes of a man Connor met twice weekly for a killer game of squash grew cool as Michael said with deceptive mildness, “Suzy is going to be my wife, Connor. Watch what you say.”

Connor did a double take. “Wow. You’ve got it bad.” His mouth slanted as Michael tensed. “Steady on, I was talking about the maid of honor.”

“Victoria?” Michael slammed the trunk shut. “She’s been friends with Suzy for decades. In fact—”

The sudden gleam in Michael’s eyes had Connor bringing his hands up in front of him to ward off the inevitable. “Don’t go there—she’s not my type.”

The woman was way too opinionated.

Michael ignored the warning. “Maybe you need a change from blonds. In fact, Suzy and I thought she might be the perfect antidote to Dana.”

Fresh annoyance surged through Connor at the memory of overhearing Suzy telling her friend that he’d been dumped by his girlfriend. And the sympathy in her eyes when she’d said she understood why he was upset.

Upset? Hell, he wasn’t upset. He was damned mad.

Mad at Dana. Mad at Paul Harper. Mad at Michael for divulging a confidence. And mad at the irritating, interfering witch who’d forced an apology out of him.

Breathing deeply, he said, “I gather you told Suzy all about Dana?”

Michael extracted a set of car keys from his pants pocket and activated the remote to unlock the doors. “How could I not? She would’ve found out anyway.”

“My business partner and my girlfriend…and I was the last to know.” Connor tried to laugh as he went around to the passenger side. “Soap opera stuff, huh?”

The raw hurt and betrayal that two days earlier had scorched all the way to his soul resurfaced. He hated the thought of people picking over the details of his devastated life.

“What Paul did was unforgivable.” Michael’s mouth was firm as he settled in the seat beside Connor. “And Dana was more than your girlfriend. The woman’s been living with you for nearly two years. Hell, you even made her a director of Harper-North.”

How Connor regretted Wednesday’s drunken bout of self-pity. He’d been away, laying the groundwork to open Harper-North’s first Australian office. On his return from Sydney, Dana had hit him with the news that their relationship was over. She had a new lover—the man he’d gone to university with, the man he’d founded a business with. His best friend. His former best friend.

Connor had gone to Michael’s house, gotten drunk, and blurted it all out. Dumb.

“The whole world shifted on its axis in the three weeks I was gone.” Connor raked his hands through his hair. It needed a cut. The mundane thought steadied him. “Came back to find my life in uproar and you planning marriage.” He shook his head. “Crazy.”

“Not that crazy. I’ve know Suzy a while, even though we only started dating about a month ago.”

“A month?” Connor raised his brows. “After two years I didn’t know what kind of treachery Dana was capable of. You should’ve taken more time.”

“A month. A year. Two years. It’s not going to make a difference to how I feel about Suzy.”

“So what makes you so sure Suzy isn’t after a lifelong meal ticket?”

A chuckle filled the car. “Mate, I’m not the billionaire here. I don’t wear thousand-dollar suits—” Michael gave Connor’s Armani a mocking inspection “—drive a Maserati, or live in a marble mansion.”

“I don’t live there anymore.”

This week’s showdown came back to haunt Connor. Paul had already moved into his house with Dana. But he’d wring every cent that he could from the pair of them in exchange for the mansion that Dana had craved…and the share of Harper-North that Connor had walked away from. They weren’t going to get off scott-free.

“Sorry.” The laughter faded from Michael’s eyes. “But trust me, Suzy’s not marrying me for money. She’s a teacher, just like me, so our incomes are pretty equal.”

Dana had been trying to wheedle an engagement ring out of Connor for ages. His thoughts came to a grinding halt. Had Suzy tricked Michael into a proposal with the oldest trick in the book?

“What about children?” Connor prodded. Dana had begged for a child. But Connor had resisted. He hadn’t wanted marriage—which he suspected was the real reason for Dana’s desperate desire for a child. A child would’ve been a mistake. They were both too busy for kids, he’d told her.

Michael turned the key in the ignition. His jaw had firmed and his hands gripped the steering wheel.

“I’m not asking if this woman’s already pregnant,” Connor lied hastily as the motor took. “Just wondering if she views you as a father figure for any children she has.” A high school guidance counselor, Michael would make the perfect mark for a solo mother wanting financial and emotional support.

“She doesn’t have any.” The reply was clipped.

“That’s a relief. I was worried she might be a desperate divorcée.” Connor paused as they rolled down a narrow lane lined with clipped hedges that hid the church from view.

“She’s divorced but she’s not desperate.” Michael’s jaw jutted out, a sign of the stubborn streak that usually remained hidden beneath his affable, calm exterior. “You’ll like Suzy, Connor—if you let yourself. There’s no catch.”

Connor stared at Michael’s profile, aware he wasn’t getting anywhere. The strange notion that his orderly life had spun out of control increased. He shook his head. “You’re not listening. There’s always a catch.”

“Of course I’m listening.”

“But?” Something about the set of Michael’s jaw told Connor this was one of the rare times that none of his arguments were going to succeed.

In the years he’d been playing squash with Michael he’d come to value the calm, unconditional friendship they’d forged. Connor often offered Michael financial advice, and only twice had Michael disregarded it. The first time Michael had lost thousands on a development that went belly up. The second time Connor had advised him to steer clear of a derelict Edwardian cottage on a busy road. Michael had wanted to use an unexpected legacy from a great-aunt as a deposit. Connor had warned him the restoration would devour money faster than a hungry loan shark.

But Michael had bought the place anyway and spent every weekend working on it. Connor had taken to dropping by on Sunday afternoons to lend Michael a hand—much to Dana’s disgust—and the manual labor involved in stripping old paintwork and restoring the cottage had proved extremely rewarding. As the house took shape Connor finally admitted he’d been wrong. Despite the exorbitant amount of time and money it consumed, Michael’s home was special.

It had reminded him of the days when he and Paul had first started out, fired by dreams of preserving as many forgotten buildings as they could.

When had they lost that idealism? When had it all become about the next million?

Yet just because Michael had been right about that old place of his didn’t mean this madly rushed marriage would work out, Connor decided as they waited for a break in the traffic.

“But…Suzy’s nothing like Dana.”

Connor bristled at the mention of Dana’s name. “I never said she was.”

Michael threw him a disbelieving look. “Don’t let what Dana did embitter you. I think you’re well rid of her. I never liked her, you know. You deserve someone better.”

“Right now I’m hardly in the mood to play dating games,” Connor growled.

“You’ll get over it.” Michael nosed the Toyota onto the road that ran past the front of the church. “We’ll find someone to kiss your broken heart better at the wedding tomorrow.”

Connor gave him a baleful glare. “My heart isn’t broken.”

“No,” Michael agreed. “It’s your pride that’s battered.”

“Thanks, mate, I really needed to hear that!”

Michael was still laughing as they pulled up in front of the church gate where the bride and her maid of honor waited.

Despite Suzy’s blonde prettiness, Connor found his gaze drawn to her friend. A patina of reserve clung to her. There was not a hint of feminine flounce in the straight black skirt, black stockings or the tailored white shirt. Yet when she moved toward the car, she carried herself with an easy, swinging grace that contrasted sharply with her coolly composed features.

“Best therapy right now would be another woman. Victoria—”

“No.” Connor looked away from the termagant and directed a stony stare at Michael. “I definitely don’t need another hard-boiled career woman with her eye on the main chance. So don’t try any matchmaking tonight or you’ll be looking for a new best man for your wedding tomorrow.”