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There was a wounded look in his eyes. ‘Cat, I’ve rung you several times this week and you haven’t returned one of my calls. When will you have time to talk to me?’

‘Maybe after my twenty-first birthday.’ She gave him a pointed look. ‘When we can drop the subject of the inheritance money.’

‘I can’t believe you are being so unreasonable!’ His good looks screwed into a frown. ‘This is important. I need that money, Cat! Business is slow. I’m really stretched.’

Michael always told her that business was slow. But he was living in an apartment at Canary Wharf and she guessed if she glanced out of the window she would see his red sports car parked by the kerb. She wasn’t sure if her brother was just living beyond his means … or lying to her completely. Only one thing was sure—no matter how much money he had, it was never enough.

‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ she said, getting her front door key out. ‘But I just haven’t got time for this.’

‘So you’re not going to do anything about claiming our inheritance?’ he asked abruptly as she turned away.

He always referred to the money as our inheritance … and Cat never argued the point. ‘If you mean am I planning my wedding … then the answer is no, Michael, I am not.’

‘For goodness’ sake, Cat,’ he grated. ‘You could do with some of that money yourself! Your life isn’t that great; you are living in a shoebox, working all hours and you don’t make great money.’

‘I’m doing all right,’ she said curtly. ‘And I’m happy.’

‘You are used to better things, Cat. You were brought up in luxury.’

‘I’m sorry, Michael, but I’m not marrying just to get that money.’

He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Dad and I have been talking—’

‘Good for you.’ Cat put the key into the lock and opened the door. She didn’t want to hear any more. ‘Please go, Michael.’

‘Just give me one minute.’ Michael reached into his pocket, took something out and shoved it towards her.

‘What’s this?’ Startled, Cat took the piece of paper and, glancing down, found she was looking at a photograph of a dark-haired man in his twenties.

‘He’s called Peter and he’s a friend of mine. I’ve told him about our problem and he’s willing to meet you at the register office and tie the knot. You never need to see him again.’

Cat felt a wave of fury. ‘It never ceases to amaze me how low you will stoop.’ She tried to push the photograph back towards him but he wouldn’t take it.

‘Look, I’m being upfront with you this time—I know I shouldn’t have deceived you and set you up with Ryan. And this is just a means to an end,’ he insisted. ‘I’ve had a word with a lawyer friend and we can draw up a prenuptial agreement so that the money is secured. And Peter would be very happy with the arrangement. So you see everyone will win from this situation.’

‘You can forget it, Michael. I’m not doing it!’ she said flatly.

Michael stared at her calmly. ‘That money should never have been left to you, Cat. By rights it belongs to Dad. You know that.’

‘I’m not responsible for the way the will was left!’ Cat glared at him. ‘Is Dad happy with this? Does he really want me to marry a total stranger?’

‘He thinks it’s a great idea!’

A sharp stab of pain twisted inside her. Hurriedly she turned away and, before her brother could stop her, she went into her flat and slammed the door.

‘Just think about it!’ Michael’s voice was muffled from outside.

She squeezed her eyes tightly closed; it didn’t come as any real surprise that her father cared so little about her. They hadn’t been close in a long time and deep down she had known something like this would be suggested. But it still hurt because he was her father and because she remembered a time before her mother had died when she had idolised him. Pulling herself together, she threw the photograph to one side.

She had discovered a long time ago that her idol had feet of clay. Feeling sad didn’t solve anything; she just had to get on with her life. And that meant throwing herself into work and forgetting about relationships.

Nicholas pulled up outside Cat’s flat at a little after six. He felt a gleam of satisfaction at the way things were playing out; it was reminiscent of the way he felt when he was about to close a major business deal. In fact, if anything the thrust of adrenalin was perhaps greater. The scent of revenge was close and sweetly exhilarating.

He stepped out of the limousine into the warmth of the evening and strolled towards the entrance of the old Victorian building. Cat lived in a decent area; the road was tree-lined and had an air of prosperity about it. But Nicholas knew it was a million miles away from how she had lived when she was growing up.

He wondered not for the first time what she was planning to do to get her inheritance. She was a beautiful woman and could have bagged herself a

husband without too much of a problem but, according to his sources, she had no boyfriend. Apparently there had been someone in her life last year but it hadn’t worked out—now she just had casual dates every now and then. She seemed to be content playing the field with her friends, living her life like any normal twenty-year-old.

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