His Independent Bride: Wife Against Her Will / The Wedlocked Wife / Bertoluzzi's Heiress Bride

Then she was free, and he was walking away across the room.

It was only when he was completely out of sight that she realised she’d been holding her breath. She released it slowly, aware that her heart rate had quickened, and resenting it.

I—I wasn’t expecting it, she defended herself swiftly. And, anyway, it didn’t mean a thing. He’s half-French, so maybe hand-kissing is in the genes. A reflex action on his part. Nothing to get wound up about.

She drank the rest of her cooling coffee and began to count to a hundred under her breath, not hurrying. She wanted Joel Castille safely in a taxi, and on his way back to Werner Langton, before she made her own exit. She couldn’t risk another confrontation—not when she was still flurried from the last one.

She’d reached the eighties, when Georges appeared beside her with a small tray.

‘Brandy, mademoiselle.’ He set a balloon glass on the table. ‘With the compliments of monsieur.’ His brow was faintly creased. ‘He says—for the shock?’ he added questioningly.

‘That,’ Darcy said, nailing on a smile, ‘is monsieur’s little joke. Salut.’

She picked up the glass and, still smiling, swallowed some of its contents.

But to herself: ‘Bastard,’ she whispered silently. ‘Complete and utter bastard.’

Darcy was expecting fireworks when her father came home that evening—or, at least, displeasure that his scheming had been exposed, then turned on its head like this.

But his smile was calm. ‘Joel has told me the good news, my dear. I’m delighted for you both.’ He hugged her, then stepped back, fixing her with a steady look. ‘But a word of warning, Darcy. Don’t make my mistake, and underestimate your future husband.’

She lifted her chin. ‘Perhaps he’s underestimated me.’

He smiled a touch grimly. ‘Well, your life together promises to be interesting, I’ll say that. But the pair of you aren’t having everything your own way,’ he added with sudden firmness. ‘Like it or not, Darcy, you’ll be properly married in church, so let’s have no more registry office nonsense.

‘And I intend to give you away.’

She bit her lip. ‘As part of the package?’ There was anger in her voice. ‘Along with the pension rights, and stock options?’

‘Now, you’re being silly.’ He was silent for a moment, then said more gently, ‘I still remember my wedding day, Darcy, and how beautiful your mother looked as she came up the aisle towards me. You are so like her, you know. And whatever you and Joel may have hatched up between you, I want you both to have the same wonderful memories. As I know you will.’

But my recollections are different, she wanted to cry out. Because every time I see Joel Castille, I’m going to think of that night when he threw me out of Harry’s party—the contempt in his face, and his hands on me. Because I still feel them, deep in my bones.

And it will remind me of the pain and misery that followed—every terrible thing that I can never forget, and which he will always be part of. All the reasons I have to hate him…

She said quietly, ‘If it’s really so important, Daddy, how can I possibly refuse?’ And despised herself for her own weakness.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘YOU’RE GETTING married?’ Lois repeated incredulously. She put down her coffee mug. ‘But I didn’t know you were even seeing anyone.’ She frowned. ‘Is it someone you met on Drew Maidstone’s boat?’ She paused, her frown deepening. ‘Hell, Darcy, promise me it isn’t Drew Maidstone himself. You’re not planning on being Wife Number Five, surely?’

‘No, no,’ Darcy made haste to assure her. ‘It’s nothing like that. Really.’

‘Then what? I mean, this has come right out of the blue.’

Darcy forced a smile. ‘And for me too.’

‘Well, tell all.’ Lois leaned forward expectantly. ‘What’s his name? And how did you meet him?’

This, thought Darcy, was the tricky bit. She said slowly, ‘He’s called Joel Castille, and we met some time ago.’

Lois’s brow was creasing again. ‘But you’ve never said a word about him to me and you’re my best friend. You came here to ask me to be your matron of honour. I don’t get it.’

Darcy drank some coffee. She’d rehearsed what she was going to say on the way over, but, faced with Lois’s clear-eyed gaze across the kitchen table, she realised it didn’t make much sense. And that maybe only the truth would do.

She said, ‘It’s a little difficult to explain.’

‘Try me,’ Lois invited affably.

‘You see,’ Darcy floundered, ‘there’s going to be a wedding, but—I’m not really being married.’

‘You mean it’s some sort of elaborate hoax?’

‘Not that either.’ Darcy sighed. ‘Actually, it’s just a business arrangement, and a temporary one at that. But with a ceremony.’

There was a silence, then Lois said with a touch of grimness, ‘I think this requires something more than coffee.’

She went to the fridge, extracted a bottle of Chardonnay and opened it, pouring generous measures into two glasses.

‘Now,’ she said, as she sat down. ‘Do I detect your father’s hand in all this? Just who is Joel Castille, and why have you agreed to this ridiculous arrangement?’

Darcy took a deep breath. She said baldly, ‘He’s Werner Langton’s new managing director, and he’ll be chairman when my father stands down. Dad thinks that the transition will be easier if Mr Castille becomes his son-in-law.’ She shrugged. ‘He’s probably right. The king abdicates, and the crown prince takes his place. It makes a certain grisly sense.’

‘Not to me, it doesn’t.’ Lois stared at her with fascinated horror. ‘Honey, this is madness. You don’t even refer to the guy by his given name.’

Darcy grimaced. ‘For that, I’m going to need time and practice.’

‘Dear God,’ Lois said faintly. ‘How long did you say you’d known him?’

‘I don’t know him,’ Darcy returned shortly. ‘Nor do I want to. We’re—acquainted, and that’s as far as it goes.’ She hesitated, then decided to put all the cards on the table. ‘But we first met about two years ago.’

Lois’s head lifted sharply. ‘Two years?’ she echoed. ‘But that was when…’ Her voice trailed away in uncertainty.

‘Yes,’ Darcy agreed quietly. ‘Exactly when. In fact, Joel Castille was the one who stopped me from seeing Harry that night.’

‘He’s the man who thought you were a stripper, and had you thrown out?’ There was a brief appalled silence, then Lois shook her head. ‘I—I don’t know what to say. This is absolutely unbelievable.’

‘He had his reasons.’ Darcy played with the stem of her glass. ‘The bride’s his cousin, and he was trying to protect her, it seems. Stripper or no, he recognised me as trouble.’ She bit her lip. ‘And, apparently, Harry confirmed this when he was tackled about it later. He claimed I’d been stalking him.’

‘Rotten little bastard,’ Lois said with feeling. She hesitated. ‘Did you tell this Joel Castille the truth, including what happened afterwards?’

Darcy lifted her chin. ‘No,’ she stated with clarity. ‘It’s over, and it’s none of his damned business, anyway. Let him think what he likes.’

‘Darcy,’ Lois spoke with urgency, ‘it isn’t that simple. You must know that.’

‘But it can be,’ Darcy said flatly. ‘Trust me. Joel Castille only wants someone to run his home, and act as his hostess. Nothing more. Well, I can cope with that, for as long as it takes.’

‘Nothing more?’ Lois rolled her eyes. ‘Get real, darling. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’re a beautiful girl, and you’ll be sharing a roof with this guy. Are you sure he’ll be content to leave it at that?’