The Blackmailed Bride (8 page)

‘I'm sure we can come to a mutually agreeable arrangement…'

‘I don't want to be agreeable!' she bellowed, stamping her foot. There was absolutely no point playing it softly, softly with someone like him. ‘I want the photos—
now!
'

Shock flickered across Javier's face. He was not accustomed to receiving peremptory orders from anyone, least of all from a slip of girl like this!

‘
Dios Mio,
what a temper you have!' he exclaimed. ‘Calm yourself. I'm sure we can negotiate something.'

‘Negotiate?' she parroted, brushing a section of damp hair impatiently behind her ear.

Javier's nostrils flared as the clean scent of the shampoo she had just used drifted towards him, the scent subtly mingled with a warm female fragrance. He felt his body react to the stimulus. The strength of the response startled him.

‘Negotiation…I want something, you want something, we come to a mutually beneficial arrangement, possibly involving an acceptable degree of compromise,' he elucidated slowly in his rich dark chocolate drawl. ‘I would have thought as a lawyer you were au fait with the way it works.'

Now,
compromise
worried her, but the idea of him wanting something she had worried her a lot more!

‘What do I have that you want?' Kate quavered, wrapping her arms protectively across her chest. Though the droop of his heavy lids concealed the expression in his eyes, she could detect a worrying gleam through the lush screen.

‘I need to get married.'

It was not a response she had expected.

‘Congratulations,' Kate responded uncertainly. Trained to observe such things, she automatically noted the slight
emphasis on
need
and the significant absence of want, both verbally and non-verbally.

‘You have not asked me in what manner this concerns you?'

‘I thought you'd get around to telling me…
eventually,
' she observed with an exaggerated sigh.

Her response made his lips quirk appreciatively.

‘My grandfather is an old-fashioned man in many ways…' he began heavily.

‘This might be quicker if I tell you what I already know. You're talking about Felipe Montero. The one with money, power and grasping relations all jockeying for position to replace him?' The financial pages were not Kate's choice of reading but she'd have needed to be living in a vacuum if she hadn't known something of the circumstances.

‘The one with terminal cancer,' came the blunt response.

Kate's scornful smirk drooped. ‘Oh, God! I'm so sorry,' she murmured, feeling a total, thoughtless cow. ‘I didn't know.'

‘That is not accidental; nobody does. If the financial markets learn of his illness, the bottom will drop out of Montero shares, wiping millions off the company's value overnight. To the world, my grandfather
is
Montero,' he outlined unemotionally. ‘The obvious solution is for the mantle to pass smoothly to his successor before it becomes public knowledge.'

The cold-bloodedness of this analysis appalled Kate. Searching his face gave her no insight into his attitude towards his grandfather's illness. Did it really mean no more to him than figures on a balance sheet? Was he really that callous?

‘You want to be his successor.'

‘I am the logical choice. My uncle and cousins, whilst all are capable in their own way, lack leadership qualities.'

Kate marvelled at his astonishing arrogance. ‘But you
have those qualities…?' She couldn't tell if he'd recognised the irony in her tone as he calmly conceded her point.

‘I do, and I see no reason to deny the fact. I would have thought that you of all people would appreciate candour, but I was forgetting the British consider self-deprecation a virtue,' he drawled. ‘Does that make me an arrogant Spaniard?'

His mockery made Kate flush angrily. ‘I don't see your problem. Your grandfather needs an heir—you are it. What does it have to do with me?'

‘My grandfather and I have not always seen eye to eye; he is not a flexible man…'

This classic demonstration of the pot calling the kettle black brought a grim smile to her lips; as amusing as this was she couldn't see where she came into it. ‘Will you get to the damned point?' she pleaded tautly.

‘He had let me know that I am his choice but—this is where his old-fashioned standards come into it—only if I am married. He has even gone to the trouble of providing me with a potential mate.'

‘Doesn't he think you can find one of your own?' The mocking smile faded dramatically from her face as an extraordinary explanation for his grandfather's intervention presented itself to her.
‘You're not…?'
Kate gasped. Another look revealed a tall figure oozing a staggering amount of aggressive masculinity; she smiled a little at her own stupidity and shook her head—
no way
was his sexual orientation in question! There had to be another explanation, but what?

‘Not what?' Javier puzzled impatiently.

Kate's eyes dropped from his as she shook her head, extremely relieved she'd managed to put a brake on her impetuous tongue in time to stop her looking a total idiot and probably mortally offending him in the bargain. There were certain things you didn't ask a male and that went
double if he was a Spanish male! Questioning his masculinity definitely came into that category of questions and the last thing she needed was a swaggering display of testosterone.

An incredulous exclamation suddenly burst from Javier's lips as he watched the play of expression on her face. Without warning, he reached out and cupped her chin in his hand, raising her chin. Kate didn't offer any resistance, she was too startled to do anything but stare up at him.

For an intensely uncomfortable moment which, for Kate, seemed to last for an eternity he searched her face.

‘Madre mia!'
he breathed as an incredulous expression spread across his face. ‘That
is
what you meant, isn't it?' he marvelled.

Guilty colour flooded Kate's cheeks as she jerked her chin from his light grasp and dropped down into a convenient chair her knees shaking uncontrollably.

‘I might be able to confirm or deny if I had the faintest idea what you were talking about…' she prevaricated stiffly.

‘My sexual orientation is not something I've been called upon to defend before,' he mused.

Kate covered her face and groaned. How could you argue with someone who appeared to possess the ability to read your mind?

‘But,' he continued silkily, ‘I've never been one to duck a challenge…' Kate peeked through her parted fingers; she didn't like the sound of that steely sentiment or the worrying gleam in his eyes. ‘Let me reassure you I do
like
women.
Exclusively,
' he added grinning wolfishly.

And I bet they like you right back.

‘I'm happy for you,' she choked. ‘It was only a passing thought,' she added, trying to defuse the situation. ‘No need for any rash demonstrations; I'm totally prepared to believe you're rampantly heterosexual.' The thought that any dem
onstration might take the form of something crude—like a kiss—made it hard for her not to hyperventilate.

It would naturally be horrifying and appalling to be kissed under these circumstances. Part of her couldn't help but wonder if the price wouldn't be worth paying, just to satisfy her curiosity… What would it feel like to be kissed by Javier Montero?

‘That makes me feel a great deal easier.'

Kate's eyes narrowed as she glared at him with resentful dislike. ‘But I soon realised you weren't gay, just too immature to contemplate commitment.' A person had a right to think stupid things without being called upon to defend her thoughts. ‘For one daft moment there I was actually worried about your fragile Spanish male ego coping with a perceived slur on your manhood.'

‘It was a close thing for a minute…' he conceded drily.

‘A force ten hurricane couldn't dent your ego!' Kate snorted.

‘I'm sorry if I fail to comply with your stereotyping of Southern Mediterranean man, Kate. I'll walk around with my shirt open to the waist.' He flicked open a button at mid-chest level and revealed a section of deep golden flesh covered with a light sprinkling of dark hair. He contemplated the area with a lot more composure than she did. ‘And wear a flashy gold medallion, maybe.' His head lifted. ‘What do you think?' he appealed to her with searing sarcasm. ‘Will a little tacky exhibitionism make you feel more secure? Or shall I pinch your bottom?'

Secure?
Kate, the blood pounding heavily in her temples, dragged her glazed eyes from the section of tanned skin. While she was in the same country as this infuriating man who twisted everything she said, she wouldn't feel secure.

‘I do not stereotype people,' she denied hotly. ‘It's just you
are
single and not exactly in the first flush of youth…' Even to Kate's ears, this sounded a pretty feeble excuse.
‘Not that you're old exactly…' Way to go, Kate—call him gay and decrepit and he's bound to hand over the photos.

‘So all unmarried men in their thirties are gay. Let me see, have I got this right?' he pondered innocently. ‘That's
not
stereotyping?'

‘I didn't mean anything of the sort!' Kate closed her eyes and sent up a silent prayer for deliverance. She took a steadying breath and met his eyes with what she hoped was some degree of composure. ‘It's not as if I could give two hoots one way or the other where, when or with whom you have sex. It's your aversion to arranged marriages we were discussing… What's wrong, is your grandfather's choice of prospective bride the problem? Is she a bit of a dog?' She'd never thought to hear herself use such a derisory term to describe one of her own sex which just showed what a corrupting influence this man had upon her.

‘No; as a matter of fact, Aria is beautiful and accomplished and in love with me…'

He seemed to accept this adulation in his stride; it must have something to do with having been on the receiving end of adulation all of his adult life, she supposed.

‘How nice for you.'

‘I do not love her.'

‘And that matters to you?'
She couldn't hide her scepticism.

Did men like him marry for love? It surprised Kate that he even knew the meaning of the word!

But then who am I to talk? It's not as if I'm the expert, she thought gloomily reviewing her love life—it took all of ten seconds! Seb had been the only serious boyfriend she'd ever had, her first lover and sometimes she thought maybe her last! Not that she was pining; once the dust had settled she'd realised the only part of her hurt by the experience was her pride.

Maybe Seb had had a point when he'd said there was no point staying in a relationship that was going nowhere.

‘I'll always come second to your career,' he'd accused. Well it hadn't taken him long to find a girl who put him first; they were expecting their first baby any time now.

‘But I am fond of Aria, too fond to marry her. So what I need is a woman who will go through a ceremony with me; after a suitable interval we would part.'

Kate stiffened; the pupils of his eyes dilated dramatically as she stared up at him—he couldn't be suggesting…?
Could he?
She gave a wry smile and shook her head. Maybe that knock on the head had fused a few circuits, because nobody with a full complement of wits could imagine even briefly he'd come up with a plan like that!

‘I wouldn't have thought you'd have a lot of trouble finding someone to oblige you, especially if the remuneration for the contract is generous,' she observed cynically. Actually, she could think of several women who would do it for free!

Even she could see the more obvious attractions of such a scheme.

‘My grandfather is a highly intelligent man. He would not be deceived by some plausible gold-digger.' The furrows across his broad brow deepened as he re-examined the problem. ‘I need someone
different
…preferably British and fair… Someone who will not be easily intimidated… Someone who at the end of the day will go back to her own life and leave me to mine.'

‘Why British and fair?' Kate asked, intrigued despite herself by the reference that stood out in a truly bizarre speech as more puzzling than the rest.

‘Because he knows that the woman I fell in love with is both.' Kate gasped but Javier continued, ‘You find the notion of me loving someone so incredible?'

Actually she found the fact of some woman having the
good sense not to love him back incredible because, whatever else he was, he had sex appeal oozing out of every pore.

‘Nice dental work, Kate,' he observed dryly, ‘but the open-mouthed look is not a good one for you.'

Kate closed her mouth with an audible snap.

‘Why don't you marry this woman?'

‘That was my plan, although I doubt if she realised it, but that's irrelevant. She fell in love with someone else, someone who happens to be one of my best friends.'

Surely this was a man who wouldn't be constrained by the limits of polite society? Failure of any sort must be unpalatable in the extreme to a man of his disposition. It didn't matter how hard she tried to picture Javier as a rejected suitor, she couldn't! Her eyes drifted to the sensual outline of his mouth…why, even I would be
slightly
tempted in the unlikely scenario of him making a pass at me and I don't even like dark brooding types.

‘And that puts her off limits?' It brought him down to a worryingly human level to discover he'd actually experienced rejection.

‘This has nothing to do with morals; you cannot make someone love you.'

Undeterred by the repressive chill in his voice, she was unable to restrain herself from pushing it. For some reason she found his pragmatism depressing. She might accept her own fate with similar stoicism but, although she might personally prefer her men predictable with manageable-sized passions, the closet romantic in her wanted there to be men out there with souls of fire and passion, men who would fight with his dying breath to win over the woman he loved!