Marriage of Convenience

Chapter Seven

Freya felt her insides, clench. Fool that she was, she hadn't viewed marriage to him from that angle, merely from the academic side. Two compatible adults merging their lives, their assets, for mutual benefit—that was the way she'd seen it. A marriage of convenience, a business arrangement, made tolerable by their mutual respect.

A full marriage, having children, meant sleeping together, having s*x. It put an entire complexion on the whole idea. s*x without love seemed unconscionably dirty in her view. But not in his, obviously. And why, oh, why hadn't she at least considered the possibility that he might demand a full, physical marriage? Because her head had been too full of the need to take control of her inheritance, she answered herself drily, to think about what Theo Dylan might want!

She stared at the tablecloth, as if the fine fabric held a weird fascination, quite unable to meet his eyes as the beginnings of a slow, deep flush made itself felt. She knew those clever azure eyes were on her, analyzing her reaction, and she strove to keep calm.

She had seen the outcome of his acceptance only from her narrow viewpoint, as a means of enabling her to pay off Leo Isaac, shield Uncle Charles. She had looked no further than that, believing that Theo would view the union as a business arrangement, too, that the offer of the Dexter Securities shares and the addition of her own considerable fortune to his might be enough.

However, he was not a eunuch and naturally enough he wanted children, and as a male, he was biologically different and could enjoy s*x without love; his emotions would not have to be involved. And if he wanted children then it would be her duty, as his wife, to produce them. But could she go through with such a marriage—to a man she did not love?

She would have to, the answer came starkly. And if she accepted the benefits of his acquiescence then she must accept the other. The alternative, Isaac's foul threat to go to the seamier tabloids, was impossible to contemplate.

Having rationalized the situation, accepted it with the logic that was such an intrinsic part of her way of thinking, she was able to meet his eyes squarely, unconsciously lifting her chin and setting her shoulders.

'I accept your condition. I can understand that a man in your position needs an heir.'

'But I would like to make one condition of my own- that we don't—we don't actually sleep together for, well, a couple of weeks or so after we're married.' She met the cool questioning of his eyes, the slight upward tilt of one strongly defined black brow. I'd like time to adjust, to get to know you better—as a husband, I mean—before we actually, er--' Words failed her then and he supplied,

'Make love.'

His eyes moved with lazy boldness over her lips, her throat, the sweet, curving line of her shoulders and breasts.

'It's a bargain, Freya. Two weeks to the day.' And she hung her head, her fingers twisting mindlessly in her lap. It sounded less like a bargain than an awful threat!

They were married quietly three weeks later, and the only, people at the sort civil ceremony were Aunt Sophia, Sam and Theo's sister Kate.

It was fitting in a way, Freya thought as she left the registrar's office on Theo's arm, that there weren't vast throngs of people waiting to celebrate a wedding that had been arranged, on her part through dark necessity, and on his a need, at last, to begin a family to carry on his name, to inherit his vast wealth.

But Sophia had been delighted when she'd heard the news, Freya recalled as she watched her aunt and Kate climb into Sam's BMW for the drive back to Dexter House.

'An excellent match!' That lady had come as near to open enthusiasm as it was possible for her to do. 'It will be good to have the Dylan name so closely allied with the Dexter's' again.'

And later, Uncle Charles had told her, I'm glad. You couldn't have made a better choice. I have great faith in young Dylan's judgment—I only wish your father and I had had as much in his uncle's.' He had taken her hand, holding it in an unprecedented display of affection, 'But when your father and I were young we thought we knew it all, so we took the bit between our feet, pulled out of Dylan Dexter and founded Dexter Securities. We took risks, we had to, and it paid off.

So everyone was pleased, Freya thought; even Theo had behaved like a devoted bridegroom-to-be when they'd accepted a dinner invitation at Dexter House. Not that she'd seen much of him during the past three weeks. She'd spent most of her time booking him on flights to Zurich, Paris, New York, arranging his hotel accommodation, fixing meetings with foreign bankers and clients.

'I rather think we should have gone first.' Theo placed a hand on the small of her back, only lightly, but it made her shudder. Today just did not feel like her wedding day. She stared unseeingly at the grey facades of the buildings on the opposite side of the street as if she didn't know where she was, what she was doing. She couldn't bring herself to look at him and Theo inquired softly, feeling that betraying shudder, 'Cold, darling?'

'Yes. Yes, I am, a little.' Freya held at the excuse gratefully. It wouldn't do his ego much good to know that his bride of ten minutes had shuddered like a startled mare because he had touched her! And the weather had changed, feeling more like November than May, and there was little warmth in the cream silk suit she was wearing, little warmth in her heart, but he wasn't to know that.

'Shall we go, then?' The arm he put around her shoulder as he hurried her over the pavement to where the Rolls, minus Benjamin today, was parked was protective, but Freya felt her whole body go stiff, rejecting even that small intimacy.

But the tug of the wind on her small hat, came to her rescue, gave her yet another useful excuse in the automatic way both hands fled up, securing the nonsensical headgear because that instinctive movement effectively knocked his arm away.

He looked down at her as she struggled to secure her hat, tipping it further down over her eyes in the process, and his eyes were light with laughter.

'That scrap of silliness suits you. Makes you look ultra-feminine and in need of protection. It's a side of you that's never on display in the office. I like it!' There was warm appreciation in the way he smiled and Freya scrambled into the car as he held the passenger door open for her.

She felt a fraud, and she said over her shoulder, trying not to sound stiff, 'You'd think I'd flipped if I turned up for work wearing this!'

She heard his deep chuckle as he walked around the car, and she gritted her teeth. She was as she was, there was nothing more. The coolly sophisticated woman he knew as his PA was all there was to her. She had no frivolous, ultra-feminine side. Would he be disappointed when he realized that?

He slid in beside her and the engine purred to life at the start of the journey to Dexter House where Sophia had arranged a small celebration lunch party for them. Uncle Charles hadn't been well enough to attend the ceremony, but she'd see him at the house. She wondered, her face white and set, what his reaction would be if he knew exactly why she had married Theo Dylan. But he would never know; that had been the whole point of the exercise.

'You're very quiet, Freya.' Calm, azure eyes left the road for a split second, probing hers. 'Second thoughts?'

'No, not at all,' Freya lied. During the past three weeks, she'd been having second through to tenth thoughts, but they'd all led to the same conclusion. She was doing the only thing she could, given cold circumstance.

She would be in a far worse position had Theo refused to marry her, or if she'd got really cold feet and had called the whole thing off. She would just have to make the best of the situation, and she had far too much respect for Theo to allow him to know that his condition about a full marriage had her running scared.

'Good,' he said softly, his strong profile relaxed as he returned his full attention to the road. There was even a smile in his voice, and Freya marveled that he should appear so much in control, so easy in his mind. He, for one, could have no doubts about their future.

'I've some news for you," he told her. 'Interested?'

'Of course. Tell me.'

'I've managed to fix us a honeymoon on a Greek island. Only a week, I'm afraid, that's all the time I can spare right now. But we'll have time to relax together.' He braked for traffic lights, his hands light on the wheel, and turned to her, his eyes enigmatic, 'It might help you to adjust.'

'It sounds delightful.' She carefully kept her tone neutral, not letting him know she had recognized the specific words she'd used when making her own condition

. 'But a long way to go for just one week.'

'I suppose so,' he concurred absently. If he was disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm he wasn't showing it.

'But when a colleague offered me the use of his villa, the thought of all that sun, sea and solitude was too tempting to turn down. I'd been thinking along the lines of asking Kate if we could borrow her cottage in Sussex, but I think we'd enjoy the island better. Besides,' his eyes slanted a totally unreadable message, 'we could both use a break in the sun. We'll leave in three days' time— give you some breathing space to settle into your new home.'

He was arranging everything with no recourse to her. Was his private persona to be as dominant as his public one? She didn't know whether she liked that idea. But the tiny frown between her eyes was eased away as rapid calculations informed her that they would be back in London before her fortnight's period of grace was up. And then, as if he knew every nuance of her thoughts, every twist, and turn of her brain, he added drily, 'To the world at large it will appear as a brief and romantic honeymoon. You can regard it simply as a lazy week in the sun.'

'You've picked yourself a great guy, and I should know! And I just know you're going to be happy.' Kate was the first to greet them when they reached Dexter House. 'Welcome to the family, poppet!'

Freya was roundly kissed on both cheeks, and her hat slid further down over her nose. Laughing, she took it off and tossed it on a nearby chair, instinctively liking Theo's sister.

After retirement his parents had settled in New Zealand, so Theo had told her, leaving Kate as his only effective family. Freya hadn't missed the pride in his voice as he'd talked of his sister. She was lovely to look at, strong-minded, and at thirty years of age, she was still unmarried because she preferred the uncomplicated single state, putting all her energies into her nationwide string of boutiques.

'The Dylans don't take lightly to the state of matrimony,' Theo had commented after giving Kate's potted biography, and that had left Freya wondering why the Dexter Securities shares had been important enough to make him finally plunge into the married state—something he had carefully avoided before.

The shares would be useful to him, but important? Well, fairly. That important? Very unlikely—unless there was something she had missed. Later, she had come to the conclusion that she must have missed something.

Granted, he had decided that the time had come to start a family, but he could have had his pick of women-only too eager to have his ring on their wedding fingers. So those shares had to be far more important than she had imagined.

Looking at him across her aunt's beautifully arranged lunch-table, Freya's heart performed a series of totally disconcerting acrobatics. Fear, she supposed, fear of the consequences of the chain of events which had led to this day, this moment of sitting opposite a brand new husband— a man whose mind she had grown to know well, to respect and admire, but whose body was a stranger, a stranger she was going to force herself to learn to know.

'I think we ought to attempt a little light conversation, don't you?' Theo's cool, soft voice splintered her solitary thoughts as he laid a hand over hers, imprisoning her fingers as she absently played with the stem of her wineglass. The sensation of skin on skin, of the tensile strength of those long, square-ended fingers, made her catch her breath. Her teeth sank into her lower lip and Theo said, 'Don't scream, you're safe for another two weeks, my dear,' then commanded, a trace of acid in his voice, 'Smile for me. Or is that too much to ask?'

And because she sensed the others were watching, their conversation broken while they turned their attention to the newlyweds, who surely should be looking ecstatic, Freya pinned a brilliant smile on her face, then felt like crying because she could see by the sudden bleakness in his eyes that he knew just how false it was.

'There's a gentleman to see you, madam.' Mary stood in the doorway of the study where Freya had just finished a phone call to an estate agent about the marketing of her home. She frowned, wishing Mary wouldn't insist on that formal, aging mode of address. 'Call me Freya, or Mrs. Dylan, if you can't manage that,' she had instructed when she had arrived here as Theo's bride two days ago. But Mary, friendly and co-operative as she was, wasn't having that. Mary was of the old school, and that was that!

'Oh—put him in the drawing-room.' Freya closed her notepad and pushed her fingers through her hair, asking, 'Who is it?'

'Mr. Leo Isaac, madam. He said it was urgent.' 'Shall I tell him you're too busy? Ask him to leave a message?

'No, I'll see him.' Freya turned, able now to smile briefly at the housekeeper. At the mention of that hated name, she had gone icy cold, averting her head and pretending to search through a drawer in the desk for something. Now, her scrabbling fingers were stilled, her features composed, or reasonably so, she hoped. She had to see the creature sometime, she knew that but had hoped that their next contact would be by letter or telephone.

But she could be thankful for small mercies because at least Theo was out, enmeshed in paperwork back at the office, she told herself as she walked through the hall as steadily as she could on disgracefully tremble legs. She could thank heaven, too, that Theo had insisted she use the day or two before they left for that Greek island to get better acquainted with her new home and begin the disposal of her old one. Had he not, then that snake Isaac might have tracked her down to the office, and that would have taken some explaining away.

Suddenly, though, and with a depth that shook her, she longed for the reassuring presence of the man she had married; longed for his strength, for the gentleness that had been the hallmark of the sensitive way he had handled their relationship ever since they had arrived here after the wedding lunch at Dexter House.

Theo, I need you! The words took wing in her mind, echoing, she needed him here, at this precise moment. Squaring her shoulders, she opened the drawing-room door and walked quickly through and Leo Isaac drawled, 'May I offer my congratulations on your marriage, Mrs. Dylan?'

Freya ignored that, although she felt her face, her whole body, go hot. The mere sight of him made her blood boil.

'Don't come here again, under any circumstances,' she told him, her eyes letting him know how much he disgusted her. To think she had once found him charming company! To think--But no, her brain shifted gear, moving swiftly, decisively; she must not think of the past. It was done with, over. Or almost. This creep meant less than nothing to her now. She loathed and despised him, and the act of handing over a sum of money would rid herself of the poison that was Leo Isaac finally and forever.

'I won't—if I don't have to.' His eyes were nasty, his mouth curved in a sneer. He had helped himself to a large measure of Theo's brandy, she noted savagely. And to see him here, lounging on Theo's sofa and drinking his brandy, turned her stomach. But she had her rage under control, because to rant and rail at him might give her temporary relief but it would accomplish nothing useful.

So she said tonelessly, 'There was no need for you to come here today. A telephone call would have done.'

'Would it, now?' He mocked her careful dignity. Swirling the contents of his glass, he leaned back, his smile deadly. 'I'd like to see you try to feed Fifty thousand smackers down a telephone line.'

'I haven't got it yet.' Freya's hands balled into tight fists. But she trod warily, guessing how nasty he would become if he weren't reassured that the money he demanded would be forthcoming. 'I have been married for two days. Things can't move that quickly. As soon as I can, I'll let you have it. I don't want this sordid business hanging over my head any longer than necessary.'

'How soon? Next week?' he asked, his eyes sharp, and Freya dragged in a deep breath, feeling the wetness of sweat on her forehead, the palms of her hands, her back.

'No. The week after. We're leaving tomorrow on our honeymoon.' Sharing any details of her life with him made her feel ill and the words were stiff, difficult to push past her teeth. 'Leave me a phone number. I'll contact you when I have it.'

'Just see you do.' He had pushed himself to his feet, moving to stand close, and Freya was too frozen with loathing to move away, her feet rooted to the silky oriental carpet. 'Because, quite apart from poor old Uncle Charles, you have someone else to consider now, don't you, my love?' An eyebrow arched with hateful mockery. The sort of stuff I could dish out about you would make that new husband of yours look something of a laughing-, stock in the City, wouldn't it? A bit of a fool, wouldn't you say? And he wouldn't be one bit pleased, would he?'

She couldn't speak; there was nothing to say. But she longed to lash out at him, to hit, kick and batter, but the moment of temper, of hot temptation, passed. And Leo drawled, 'Yes, we must consider your husband's feelings in all this, mustn't we, my love—my clever, clever love? And you are clever, I admire you for it! To get your pretty little hands on a large fortune, you marry an even larger one! Nice thinking! Go right to the top of the class!'

And behind them, in a voice that would have frozen a molten lava flow, Theo said, 'won't you introduce me to your friend, darling?'

And Freya, her eyes darkening with panic, watched with horrified fascination as Leo Isaac gave her a leering wink over the rim of the brandy glass he was lifting to his lips.