The Wedding Charade (2 page)

She pressed her lips together as she swung away to pace the carpeted floor. Nic watched her from his chair. She was agitated and rightly so. Without her father’s generous allowance, she was penniless. He knew for a fact she had no savings to speak of. She lived on credit and expected her father to clear it month by month. She had never had a job in her life. She hadn’t even finished school. She had been expelled from three prestigious British fee-paying schools and then dropped out altogether a week after enrolment at the fourth. She was trouble with a capital
T.

She turned back and came to stand in front of him again, her big green eyes taking on a soulful beseeching
look. ‘Please, Nic,’ she said in a whisper-soft voice. ‘Please do this one thing for me. I beg you.’

Nic drew in a long, slightly unsteady breath. She was bewitching and dangerous in this mood. He could feel the tentacles of temptation reaching out to ensnare him. He could feel the way his resolve was melting like wax under a blast of heat.

A year of marriage.

Twelve months of living together as husband and wife in order to secure a fortune. Thank God the press so far knew nothing about the terms of the will and Nic was determined to keep it that way. That would be the ultimate in public shame if word got out that he had been led to the altar with a noose around his neck, put there by his late grandfather.

But Jade was right. It was a fortune, and while he had every confidence he could earn it in his own right, given enough time, he was deeply worried about a third party shareholder. His brothers had been good about it so far. They had not put him under any undue pressure, but Nic knew Giorgio, as the financial controller, was concerned given the ongoing economic instability across Europe.

Nic knew this was a chance to show his family and the press he was not the fool-around playboy everyone painted him as. He could make this one sacrifice to secure the Corporation’s wealth and once the year was over he could get back to doing what he did best: being free from emotional entanglements. Being free to travel the world and take risks that others couldn’t or wouldn’t take. He thrived on it—the adrenalin and the surge of euphoric energy when a multimillion dollar deal was sealed.

He would agree to fulfil the terms of his grandfather’s will but not because Jade told him to.

No one but no one told him what to do.

Nic pushed back the chair as he rose from it. ‘I will have to get back to you on this,’ he said. ‘I have to go to Venice to check out a villa that’s come on the market. I’ll be away for a couple of days. I’ll give you a call when I get back.’

She blinked up at him in bewilderment, as if he had given the opposite answer to what she had been expecting. But then her beautiful face quickly reassembled itself into an expression of indignation. ‘You’re making me
wait
for your answer?’ she asked.

Nic gave her a mocking smile. ‘It’s called delaying gratification, cara,’ he said. ‘Hasn’t anyone told you if you wait a long time for something, when you finally get it the pleasure is a thousandfold?’

‘I will make you pay for this, Nic Sabbatini,’ she snarled. She stalked over to where she had dropped her designer handbag earlier and, scooping it up, flung the strap over one of her slim shoulders and gave him one last gelid glare before she left. ‘You see if I don’t.’

J
ADE
arrived at the hotel in Venice at five in the afternoon. A member of the paparazzi had told her Nic was staying there, right on the Grand Canal. She was quite pleased with her detective work. Her sources had told her Nic was in a meeting until eight this evening, and then he would be returning to the hotel for a massage before a late dinner; she hadn’t been able to find out if he was planning to dine alone or with one of his legion of female admirers.

Nic was the sort of man who had always had women swooning over him. She, to her eternal shame, had once been one of them. It still riled her that he had rejected her when she was sixteen and madly in love with him. Although she knew it was really her own fault for being so wilful, she couldn’t help partly blaming him for the horrid experience of her first sexual encounter, not that she had ever told anyone. Even the man who had taken her virginity had no idea of how dreadful an ordeal it had been for her. But then she was good at deception. Deception was her middle name—well, it would be if she could spell it, she thought wryly.

She smiled at the concierge at the reception desk, fluttering her lashes in the manner she had perfected
over the years.
‘Scusi, signor.
I am meeting my fiancé here, Signor Nicolò Sabbatini. It is to be a very big … I don’t know how to say it in Italian …a big surprise?’

The concierge smiled conspiratorially.
‘Sì, signorina,
I understand—a
sorpresa.
But I did not know Signor Sabbatini was engaged. There has been nothing about it in the press, I am sure.’

There will be shortly,
Jade thought with a mischievous private grin. ‘S
ì
,
signor,
it is all very hush-hush. You know how the Sabbatini brothers hate the intrusion of the press.’ She pulled out a photo of her and Nic that had been taken at his grandfather’s funeral. It wasn’t a particularly intimate one but it showed Nic with his head leaning towards her as he whispered something before the service. Luckily, the shot didn’t show her face for she had been scowling at him in fury at the time. Jade smiled at the concierge as she showed him the photograph. ‘As you can see, we are never left alone by the press. That is why I wanted this to be our special time together before the world gets to know. I am so appreciative of your cooperation.’

‘It is my pleasure,
signorina,’
he said and, handing back the photo, passed her a regulation form to fill in. ‘If you would be so kind as to give your full name and address and country of residence for our records.’

Jade felt the familiar flutter of panic build in her chest. It was like a million micro bats’ wings flapping all at once. She took a steadying breath and summoned up another megawatt smile. ‘I am sorry,
signor,
but I have taken out my contact lenses for the flight,’ she said. ‘They are packed in my luggage somewhere. I am practically blind without them and I
hate
wearing glasses. So unfashionable, don’t you think? Would you
be so kind as to just type my details straight into your computer? ‘

The concierge smiled. ‘But of course,
signorina,’
he said, his fingers poised over the keys as she gave him her details.

‘You are so very kind,’ Jade said as he handed her a swipe key.

‘Signor Sabbatini is staying on the top floor in the penthouse suite. I will have your luggage taken to the room straight away.’

‘Grazie, signor.
But there is one more thing,’ she said, leaning closer. ‘Would you mind contacting the masseuse who was coming at eight?’ She gave him a twinkling smile. ‘I will give my fiancé a massage instead. He will enjoy it so much more, sì?’

The concierge grinned. ‘Sì,
signorina.
I am sure he will.’

Jade made her way to the lift, smiling at her reflection in the brass-plated doors once they were closed. She had dressed in her best look-at-me clothes. A black and sinfully short tight-fitting dress with a daringly low neck and shoes with the sort of heels podiatrists the world over shook their heads in dismay at, and flashy jewellery that screeched inherited wealth and decadence.

Jade found the room without any trouble and immediately ordered champagne. A bit of Dutch courage wouldn’t go amiss right now. She would have to go carefully, however. She had to keep her wits about her in order to bring about what she wanted. Nic would be furious, but then that was his fault for being so stubborn about this. It was all right for him with his squillions, but what was she supposed to do without her trust fund? It wasn’t as if she could just ‘go out and get a job’ as
he had so mockingly suggested. Who on earth would employ her?

She looked out of the window to the bustling tourists below. The serpentine network of the canal system and the colourful villas fringing it was exactly as the postcards portrayed it. Even the light was the same: the pastels in the sky as the sun lowered brought out the pinks and oranges and yellows of the centuries-old buildings. She wished she had time to paint it. Her little makeshift studio back in her London flat was full to bursting with her work. Not that anyone had ever seen any of her paintings. It was her private passion. Something no one could rubbish, something no one could say was trashy and uneducated and unsophisticated.

Jade wandered over to the huge bed and tested it for comfort by pressing a hand down on the mattress. She snatched her hand away as she thought of all the women Nic had bedded on his trips. He would have lost count by now, surely? At least she could count her partners on the fingers of half a hand in spite of what the press reported of her sexual proclivities. Quite frankly, she wondered what the fuss about sex was all about. It didn’t seem all that pleasurable to her to be pawed and sweated over. She could flirt and tease with the best of them and it got her what she wanted—well, most of the time.

The champagne arrived and Jade tipped the young man who brought it. She allowed herself one glass to settle her nerves. The time was dragging and she desperately wanted this to be over with so she could feel more secure. Nic had left her dangling, uncertain of whether he was going to cooperate or not. It was too risky to leave it all up to him. She had to force his hand, otherwise she would be destitute. She didn’t mind pretending
to be a tart at times but there was no way she was going to become one because all her other options had been destroyed.

Marrying Nic would solve everything for her. All her troubles would be over if she did what Salvatore’s will stated. The lawyer had explained it all to her after the funeral last year. She had to marry Nic by the first of next month and stay married for a full year. Both partners had to remain faithful. Jade wasn’t sure why her godfather had put that condition in. She didn’t intend to sleep with Nic. He had spurned her in the past. What was to say he wouldn’t do it again? She would find it just as shattering as she had then.

Jade was sipping at her second glass of champagne when Nic came in. His hazel eyes narrowed as he saw her sitting with her legs crossed on the bed. ‘What the hell are you doing here?’ he said.

‘Celebrating our engagement,’ she said with a demure smile as she hoisted her glass.

He stiffened as if he had been snap frozen. ‘What did you say?’ The words came out slowly, menacingly.

Jade took a sip from her glass, looking at him from beneath her lashes. ‘The press already know about it,’ she said. ‘I gave them an exclusive. All they need now is a photo.’

Nic’s anger was palpable. It rolled off the walls towards her, keeping her rooted to the foot of his bed. Jade fought the instinct to flee. She had been hit before. Her father had backhanded her for insolence enough times for her to know how much it hurt, but her pride would not let her show it. Instead, she gave Nic a defiantly sassy look. ‘If you kick me out I will tell the press about
the terms of your grandfather’s will. You don’t really want me to do that, do you, Nic?’

His top lip lifted in a snarl. ‘You trashy, deceitful cow,’ he said.

Jade let the words roll off her. ‘Sticks and stones,’ she said in a sing-song voice as she took another sip of champagne.

Nic strode over and snatched the glass out of her hand, spilling champagne over her lap in the process. She glared at him as she jumped up to wipe off the spillage. ‘You bastard!’ she said. ‘This dress is brand new and now you’ve ruined it.’

His nostrils flared like those of an angry bull. ‘Get out,’ he said through tight lips. He pointed to the door with a rigid arm. ‘Get out before I throw you out.’

Jade tossed her head and put her hand behind her back to unzip her damp dress. ‘You put one finger on me and I’ll tell even more Sabbatini secrets to the press.’

His mouth flattened to a thin line of fury. ‘Do you have no principles at all?’

‘Plenty,’ she said, wriggling out of her dress.

His dark brows snapped together. ‘What do you think you are doing?’

Jade tossed the dress on the floor, raising her chin as she stood before him in black lace bra and knickers and her come-and-get-me heels. For a brief moment she wondered if she had stepped not just out of her dress but out of her depth as well. Nic’s gaze seemed to be seeing through much more than her lacy underwear. She could feel the heat of it all over her skin, inside and out. She could feel a faint stirring deep inside her, a fluttering little pulse that seemed to intensify with each throbbing second. ‘I’m going to have a bath,’ she said,
summoning her courage and resolve. ‘Then, once I am freshened up, we are going out to publicly celebrate our engagement.’

He stood there, breathing heavily, his eyes hard on hers, hatred darkening them in a way she had never seen before. ‘I am not letting you get away with this, Jade,’ he warned. ‘You don’t get to screw around with me, do you hear?’

‘What a lovely choice of words,’ Jade said as she sashayed over to the bathroom. ‘But there will be no screwing, OK? That’s not part of the deal.’ She gave him a saucy little fingertip wave and closed the bathroom door, clicking the lock firmly in place.

Nic let out a breath that felt as if it had come out of a steam engine. He was beyond angry. He was livid. He was furious.

He was screwed.

Jade had set him up and he had no choice but to go along with it. He would look a hundred times a fool if the press got wind of his grandfather’s machinations. If he had to marry her, he would do it but he would make sure he didn’t look like a pawn being pushed around.

He clenched and unclenched his fists. He wanted to knock that bathroom door down and drag that little scheming witch out by her long black hair. He had not thought it possible to hate someone so much. Was that what his grandfather had wanted? For him to hate the very air Jade Sommerville breathed? What had he been thinking to tie them together in a mock marriage for a whole year, for God’s sake? It would be torture for him. Marriage to anyone would have been bad enough. He loathed the thought of being tied down to one person for any length of time, let alone the rest of his life.