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‘Shall we go?’ He removed his hand from her elbow, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for the ignition keys, and Allie ran the tip of her tongue over parched lips. She felt the warmth of that small physical contact recede, leaving her skin suddenly icy cold.
She shivered convulsively as he led the way to his van, which looked even more decrepit parked amongst the shiny family saloons, one or two nippy-looking drop-head coupés. And she knew she had to find the voice that seemed to have gone missing and say something to show him she was grateful. Surely she should at least be feeling gratitude, instead of this strange sensation of standing on shifting sands?
But he saved her the effort of trying to find something sensible to say because as soon as the engine was running, after a few tired-sounding coughs, he told her, ‘I’ll take you home. I expect you’ll want to break the news to Laura and Fran when they get back from work. You’ll think of something to tell them to explain the suddenness? And I’ll get the ceremony sorted—I take it you won’t want a flashy wedding? There wouldn’t be time to arrange one even if you did,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘A civil ceremony, I would imagine. As our marriage is to be short-lived—twelve months, I think you decided?—it would be hypocritical to make vows we have no intention of keeping in church. Agreed?’
‘Yes, of course.’ His sensitivity took her by surprise and she wondered why it should, because she knew nothing about his character except that he’d been kind to her mother when she’d needed help. So that made two pluses in his favour. She steeled herself to ask the question that could bring it up to three.
Fixing her eyes on the curling road ahead of them, she got the words out. ‘And you do accept that our marriage will be in name only?’
Jethro gave her a sideways glance. She looked nervous, her profile taut, her fingers twisted round her seatbelt as if she were trying for dear life to hold onto something solid. He said easily, ‘Of course. I got that message loud and clear.’ And he added silently, In name only, sweetheart, until you change your mind! And believe me, you will. I’ll make damn sure of that if it’s the last thing I do!
His eyes back on the road ahead, he could sense her begin to relax. But there was a long way to go. This was only the beginning and, fingers crossed, she was taking the first step towards trusting him. Then, trusting him, she would grow to like him, and a whole new ball game could come from that.
‘Thank you,’ she said simply, her fingers loosening their clutch on her seatbelt, and was silent for the remainder of the journey. But Jethro knew her mind was buzzing. Elation at having bested her uncle, having found a way round the condition he’d put on her inheritance, plans for the immediate future, what she’d say to her mother and aunt to explain her headlong rush into matrimony.
He knew what was going on in her mind without her having to say a word. He had never been so tuned in to another human being in his life.
Alissa Brannan was his woman, his other half. Subconsciously he must have known that since the first time he’d seen her. His heart squeezed tight. Hell, it was going to be difficult keeping his hands off her when he only had to look at her and his body went into full mating mode, his heart urging him with every beat to tell her how much he loved her.
Fortunately his mind was still functioning well enough to issue instructions to his body about biding his time. He knew they were a perfect match but she didn’t. Not yet. But she would. And he could wait, because he always got what he wanted in the end.
As the van juddered to a stop outside Fran’s house Allie tried to switch off the thoughts that were flittering around inside her head. She realised ashamedly that she hadn’t said a word to him since he’d put her mind at rest and agreed that their marriage wouldn’t be consummated. He’d sold her a year of his life, and all she had done for the past twenty minutes was ignore him.
‘Come in. I’ll fix us some lunch.’ The strength of her sudden impulse to make amends took her by surprise. She shouldn’t have a guilty conscience, though. Why should she, when she was paying him handsomely for his part in this—this business? And that was what it was. A business arrangement.
Besides, there was so much they had to discuss. ‘We have plans to make—the others won’t be back until around five-thirty, so we’ll have plenty of time. And I can give you that cheque.’
She already had the door of the van open, one foot on the pavement, her stomach fluttering with nervous excitement, with the enormity of what was actually happening. She was going to get Studley back for her mother! And Jethro Cole was willing to help her. She owed him a lunch, the best she could contrive—
‘Sorry, but I’ll have to pass on that.’ His drawled refusal to go along with her suggestion had her plopping back in the seat, her head tipped slightly to one side as she looked at him with huge bewildered eyes. The man who had hung around her most evenings last week would have jumped at the invitation, and besides, if he was as strapped for cash as he appeared to be, she would have thought he’d be more than eager to get his hands on the pay-off. The money, after all, was the only reason he’d agreed to help her.
He angled himself in his seat and stamped on the urge to raise his hand and smooth away the slight frown from between those beautiful deep blue eyes with the tips of his fingers. ‘I need to find the registrar’s office,’ he told her evenly, ‘and arrange a date and time for the ceremony. I don’t know how these places work, but we don’t want to run the risk of finding they’re fully booked for the time-span we’re interested in. And I would imagine we’ll need our birth certificates, wouldn’t you? Is yours here, or back in London?’
For a moment she looked as if she didn’t know what he was talking about, as if events were going far too quickly for her to grasp, and then she nodded. ‘It’s here. My mother keeps all the official family stuff in a box in her bedroom.’
He smothered a sigh of relief. Getting his hands on his own would present no problem. He’d contact his senior PA. James Abbott had duplicate keys to his Mayfair home and to the safe where his personal documents were kept. He could hop on an Inter-City and be here in next to no time—quicker than if he came up by road. Had hers been kept back in her London apartment it might have meant a delay to the start of what he fully intended to be their future life together.
‘Then I suggest you fetch it for me. If I’ve got it handy, it could save a lot of to-ing and fro-ing.’
Allie reluctantly did as she was told. She supposed it made sense, but she wasn’t comfortable with it. This was her grand plan, her parade, yet he was the one dishing out the orders.
She ran lightly back down the stairs, clutching the document. This was her wedding, too; she should have a part in fixing the date of the ceremony. She would go with him. Simple. Who had ever heard of the bride not being consu
lted over a decision like that?
She skidded to a halt in the tiny hallway, her face going pink. She wasn’t going to be a bride, not a proper one, and why was she so suddenly wondering what it would be like to be a real one, with a groom as out-and-out sexy as Jethro Cole?
Unsuccessfully willing her overheated skin to cool down, the butterflies to stop attacking her stomach, she went out to where he was waiting in his van. Jerking open the passenger door, she told him, ‘I’m coming with you. We should be together when we fix the date.’
There was a stubborn set to her chin, belied, though, by the look of slightly anxious bemusement deep in her eyes, by the pinkness of her skin that was steadily turning to scarlet. The cool, classy, keep-your-distance woman of a week ago had thawed into someone with feelings, real emotions.
A sting of elation flared inside him, but he reminded himself it was early days. She had shown him a tiny crack in her coolly controlled façade, and it was up to him to widen it until there was no going back. But gently.
Her decision to accompany him was entirely natural, and for a moment he was tempted. But only for a moment. The need to have her with him, never let her out of his sight, was hot, visceral, a fist around his heart, but he told her, ‘It’s best you stay here and work out what you’re going to say to Laura. I can’t think she’d be happy to know the truth—that you’re handing over what probably amounts to your entire savings, tying yourself up with a virtual stranger, just to get her what she thinks she wants.’
He leaned over and plucked the document from her fingers, turned the key in the ignition. ‘So think about it. I’ll drop by this evening, around seven, and we can discuss the fine print. And another thing—never offer payment in advance. You never know, you could be taken for a ride. I’ll take your money, but only after we’ve both signed on the dotted line.’
He drove away, leaving her standing on the pavement, and he hated having to do it. Making arbitrary decisions for other people was part of his successful boardroom technique—second nature. But using it with her left a sour taste in his mouth.
