Wife by contract, p.2
Wife by Contract, page 2
'Mother was ill, shocked not only by Dad's death but also by the knowledge that unless the debt was paid off she would be turned out of her home and that… everything would be yours,' Teri rushed in breathlessly and defensively. 'She went away… to Manchester, to stay with her sister.'
'At your suggestion, I suppose,' he drawled dryly. 'What about your brother?'
'Dick? Oh, he went back to school. He's only seventeen and has to finish his education so he can go into the business. He's a boarder at Brookhill School. That's in Dorset, if you really must know.'
'And where have you been hiding these past two weeks?' he demanded sharply.
The autocratic tone of voice made her bristle. Taking her time, she picked up her glass and drank the rest of the ouzo, staring at him defiantly as she did so. Setting down the empty glass, she picked up her evening bag.
'I've been staying with a friend,' she replied coolly.
'The young man who was at the gambling club with you?' he asked. 'He seemed pretty angry with you tonight, so angry he walked out on you. Do you live with him?'
'With Jim? Good heavens, no!' She laughed a little as she took a packet of cigarettes out of her bag. 'I've been staying with his sister, Shirley Russell. She and I are close friends. We went to school together. I asked Jim to go with me to the club because I know the management there don't like to let women in who are unescorted.'
'How much did you lose?'
'That's none of your business,' she retorted, selecting a cigarette. She closed the packet, dropped it into her handbag and began to search for her lighter.
'All your savings, which would amount to a few hundred pounds, I would guess, plus the thousand you borrowed from the management.'
'How do you know about that?' she demanded, flushing angrily.
'Never mind how I know. I do. So now you're in debt.' His tone was critical. 'Wouldn't it have been wiser to hang on to your savings and wait until you had heard what I intend to do before throwing your money away on the wheel of fortune?'
'I suppose it would, but you see I'm not very wise,' she replied airily. The ouzo had gone to her head. She felt giddy and careless. 'I'm like Alex,' she went on. 'Proud, reckless and far too independent to be beholden to someone like you.'
'Proud, reckless and beautiful,' he murmured. 'A dangerous mixture.' His dark eyes seemed suddenly soft and sensuous as their gaze lingered on her throat before drifting down to the cleft between her breasts revealed by the low cut of her bodice, and she felt nerves in the soft mounds of flesh quiver and tauten as if he had touched her possessively. Alarmed by this reaction to his glance, she put the cigarette in her mouth, but before she could even flick her lighter into flame he reached a long arm across the table and snapped the cigarette from between her lips.
'Why did you do that?' she demanded angrily as he broke the cigarette in half between strong dark fingers.
'You didn't ask me if you could smoke,' he said coldly, giving her a look of pure distaste as he broke the two halves of the cigarette again and dropped them into the ashtray. 'I prefer not to have my food ruined by the smoke of someone else's tobacco.'
'In that case you can eat by yourself!' she flared, and pushed to her feet.
'Sit down,' he ordered, menace gleaming in the dark-ness of his eyes, his lips hardly moving as he spoke.
'No, I won't!'
'If you dare to take one step away from the table I'll get hold of you and drag you back. And don't think that's an idle threat. I've created more scenes in public places than I care to remember. Now sit down and behave yourself.'
No one had spoken to Teri like that in her life. Her father's darling, her mother's pet, her young brother's adored elder sister, she had never been crossed by anyone in her family. Always she had had her own way, and so for a moment she wavered, glaring down at him. He returned her glare coolly, his face rock-hard, his mouth set in a grim line, both of his hands spread on the table, ready to push him to his feet.
Then suddenly the young waiter was there, tray held high at his shoulder.
'You are getting impatient, madam,' he said jokingly in his broken English. 'It took me a long time to pick the mushrooms. But here we are at last—an omelette fit for a goddess to eat, Mmm, delicious!'
With a flourish he set a plate in her place and, her hunger aggravated by the sight and smell of the fluffy golden omelette, Teri sank down on her chair again. She found she was shaking all over and had a most unusual desire to burst into tears because for once in her life she had been forced to give in to a man's threat.
The waiter placed a plate with something which looked like a wedge of pie on it in front of Damien Nikerios and then proceeded to open a bottle of white wine he had brought. He poured the wine and left them. Rather sullenly Teri picked up her knife and fork and began to eat. After a while she said without looking up:
'As I'd guessed, you're a bully. I suppose that being mostly Greek you regard women as inferior persons who must be kept in their place.'
'It's becoming very apparent to me that Alex never spanked you when you were young,' he retorted smoothly.
'Of course he didn't,' she replied indignantly. 'He was much too gentle and tolerant to use corporal punishment.'
'Mmm. He was easy-going, and I suppose that is why he got into financial difficulties,' he said musingly. 'How is the omelette?'
'Very good… thank you,' she said stiltedly, giving him a surreptitious look. She was finding his sardonic remarks disconcerting. 'What's that you're eating?' she asked.
'Tyropita. It's a sort of cheese pie. Have you tried the wine yet?'
She hadn't, so she lifted her glass and sipped. The wine was light and sparkling.
'It is a wine of which I'm told the British are very fond,' Damien Nikerios said. 'It's called Theotokis and is made in the island of Corfu. Do you like it?'
'Yes.' She drank some more. 'Why did you lend Alex so much money? Did you hope to take over Hayton's one day?'
'I lent it to him to help dig him out of the mess he had got into and to save the business from going under.'
'When?'
'Six years ago. We were both in New York at the time. He was trying to get an American company interested in financing Hayton's. He wasn't having much success, so I offered to back him.' He laid his knife and fork together in his empty plate, then sipped some wine. 'Is it true he never told you about it?'
'Yes, it is.'
His dark glance drifted over her interestedly.
'I suppose six years ago he felt you were too young to know.' His eyes crinkled at the corners as a faint smile curled his mouth. 'When I first met Alex you were about nine years old, I guess. I was twenty-one. I remember he was very proud of you and showed your photograph to everyone. Even at that age you were beautiful, your skin like alabaster and your hair like flax.'
His direct openly admiring gaze was having the most devastating effect on her. All her bones seemed to be melting and she had the most absurd desire to lean towards him, to reach out a hand to him and feel, his hand close around it. She wanted to kiss him and have him kiss her—
Her breath rasped in her throat and she seized her glass. She gulped down the wine quickly and felt it seep through her.
'Where did you meet him—the first time, I mean?' she croaked.
He leaned forward, picked up the wine bottle and refilled both glasses before he answered.
'At the house of an archaeologist who had done some interesting excavations of a temple on Skios, the island my father owns and where he now lives. The archaeologist had written a book about his finds and Alex had come to see him to talk about publishing it.' He lifted his glass and drank some wine. 'While he was there, Alex gave me some good advice which I took… eventually. I have never forgotten the way he talked to me. He saved me from making a fool of myself.'
'Over what?' Teri was surprised. So far he had not struck her as being the sort of person who would ever make a fool of himself.
'Over a woman.' His expression was cynical as he studied the wine in his glass. Then he lifted his wide shoulders in a dismissing shrug. 'But that's past history and best forgotten. All that matters is Alex did me a good turn once and so when he needed help I was only to glad to lend him money.'
'At a price, of course,' she sniped. 'No one would ever expect the son of Stephanos Nikerios to lend money without demanding some sort of security first.' Recklessly she ignored the dangerous narrowing of his eyes and rushed on. 'Poor Daddy,' she said feelingly, 'he must have been really desperate to agree to your terms, you… you, vulture!'
'Prejudiced bitch, aren't you?' The softly spoken insult rocked her in her chair.
'I'm not!' she retorted hotly.
'Sure you are. You've made up your mind about me and nothing I say is going to change it, so I might as well save my breath.' He finished the wine in his glass and then pushing aside his plate leaned forward with his folded arms on the table. 'Now let's get down to business and consider the situation as it exists. Of the amount of money I lent to Alex two hundred thousand pounds is still owing to me. Right?'
She nodded and fiddled with the stem of her wine glass.
'So, according to the terms of the agreement which he and I signed—at his insistence, I should add—in the event of his death or his being unable to pay back the loan I take over not only the house where your mother lives but also the virtual control of the publishing company, thus disinheriting your mother, you and your brother. Right again?'
'Not if I can help it,' she said between set teeth, gripping the stem of the glass. She longed to throw the contents into his face. 'Not if there's some way to avoid that happening.'
'You mean that?' he asked.
'I do, most sincerely. 'I'd do anything to stop you from taking everything away from my mother and my brother.'
The hard line of his mouth relaxed and the cold glitter went out of his eyes as his glance once again drifted over her admiringly, almost seductively.
'There is a way,' he murmured, and she found herself thinking about his mouth. It puzzled her. Its shape changed according to what he was thinking or feeling. Right now its curves were frankly sensual. But there was sweetness there too, and humour, yet only a few moments ago his lips had been tight with anger. Teri wondered what it would be like to feel them moving against hers… God, what was she doing? The wine must be going to her head now, loosening her control over her senses. She blinked and sat up stiffly.
'What way?' she said.
'You and I could make a new arrangement.'
'What sort of an arrangement?' Oh, now she was very much on guard, having read of his affairs with women. The blood pounded in her ears. If he asked her to be his mistress she would throw the wine at him, she vowed, the glass too, and then she would walk out.
'If you agree to marry me I won't demand that the remaining outstanding two hundred thousand be paid to me, nor shall I turn your mother out of her house and take over Alex's share in Hayton's which by right of inheritance should be divided between your mother and your brother,' he said.
Teri stared at him with her mouth slightly open, the intention to throw the wine at him completely forgotten in complete surprise.
'You can't be serious!' she croaked.
'I am serious. I'm sober too, in case you have any doubts on that score,' he added with that attractive lift to one corner of his mouth as her glance went uncertainly to his empty glass. 'This isn't just a spur-of-the moment proposal, Teri. It's a way for you to keep the publishing business in the Hayton family. My money put Hayton's back on its feet six years ago. I still have a certain amount invested in the business which I'm willing to leave in… provided I receive some dividend. As my wife you would be that.'
Her head whirled. He was the devil after all, come for his due. She drank more wine and looked at him again, feeling at once the force of his attraction. If she married him she would have everything any woman could ever want—money, luxury, even a certain sort of power. It was tempting, very tempting. Could she do it?
'Have you ever been married before?' she asked cautiously.
'No. Have you?'
'No… I was going to be, two years ago, but… he was killed.' She seemed to be having some difficulty in forming her words. 'Another car accident,' she muttered. 'I hate cars. Two people I loved most in the world killed by cars…' She broke off, her hand going to her mouth. She was becoming maudlin and the walls seemed to be moving, closing in on her. Everything seemed to be tilting about her, first one way, then the other. The candlelight was dancing up and up in high blue-centred yellow flames and above them she could see a dark devilish face with glinting black eyes watching her. Her stomach was heaving and her head was expanding and contracting. Rising to her feet, she muttered some excuse about having to go to the ladies' room.
Through the archway she went, weaving between the tables on her way to the door of the restaurant. She could hear someone speaking to her, calling her name, but she went on, determined to get away, thinking that fresh air would clear her head.
Out through the door she went. The cold damp air stung her bare shoulders and arms and instead of clearing her head made it spin. Flakes of something soft were falling in a white haze, covering the pavement, flicking her skin like feathers. Snow. It was snowing and she had come out without her cloak. She had best go back for it. She turned, bumped into someone, felt something hit her hard on the head and then was whirling downwards, sucked in by the vortex of oblivion.
CHAPTER TWO
Teri was wakened by the sound of a door closing. Opening her eyes, she saw a long window divided by strips of wood into square panes of glass. Through the panes she could see the sun. It was a round crimson ball hanging in a sky streaked with pink fluffy clouds behind the dark brown tracery of a tree's leafless branches.
Her eyes closed again and she turned over, stretching lazily snuggling her head into a soft down pillow. She felt drowsily content, relaxed in a way she had never felt before. She felt she was floating on feathery clouds… feathers? A frown pleated her high forehead. When had she felt feathers flicking against her face and her shoulders? Last night. It had been snowing when she had stepped out of the Greek restaurant where she had had supper with the devil.
In one movement she turned and sat up to gaze wildly at the window again. The window of the house where she normally lived didn't face east. Nor did it face south or west. It faced north, so she could never see the sun from it at any time of the day. The bedroom she had been sleeping in at Shirley's didn't have a window like the one she could see through now, nor was there a tree outside it. She was in a room she had never seen before, a luxuriously furnished room with two long sash windows draped in green velvet, and she was lying in a king-sized bed beneath a silk-covered duvet.
Where was she? And how had she got there? Lying back against the pillows, she watched the sun slowly change colour, becoming less crimson and more orange and the feathery clouds change from pink to a pale greyish blue. There was a faint soreness at the back of her head and although she felt rested and thoroughly relaxed there was a dryness in her mouth and a dull throb behind her eyes.
Slowly, as if afraid of what she might find beneath it, she lifted the duvet. She was wearing a dark blue pyjama jacket; a man's pyjama jacket. It was made of some silky material and it covered her to her knees. She dropped the duvet back into place and looked again around the room. The furniture was handsome, custom-made, she guessed. There was a wide dressing table with a triple mirror, a chest of drawers and a huge wardrobe with a long mirror in its door. The room was very tidy. No clothes were draped over the chairs. Her glance came back to the bed and fixed on two pieces of black silk, then slid away from them to the pillow next to the one she was lying on. Her mouth seemed to become even dryer when she saw the dent in it which could have only been caused by someone's head resting there.
Panic flickered through her sharply, destroying the feeling of delicious lassitude in her limbs. She sat up again and reached for the pieces of black silk. As she had suspected, they were the top and pants of a pair of men's pyjamas. Inside the collar of the jacket there was a label bearing the name of the maker. Underneath it was a name tag. D. Nikerios.
Teri stared at the name. So she hadn't dreamt it. She had slept with Damien Nikerios last night. And not only slept. A knock on the door made her jump guiltily. Pushing the black pyjamas under the duvet, she slid down under it and waited. The knock came again. She didn't answer but watched the door open slowly. A thin middle-aged woman with iron-grey hair who was wearing a neat wine-red dress entered. She was carrying a tray on which there was a silver tea service and a china cup and saucer. She set the tray down on the bedside table and looked over at Teri, who pretended to be waking up.
'Good morning, miss,' the woman spoke with a pronounced Scottish accent. 'I hope you're feeling better now. Mr Nikerios said I was to bring you some tea and to ask if you want any breakfast. He tells me you had a wee stomach upset last night. Perhaps a poached egg…?'
'No. No, thank you. At least not yet. I'll just have the tea,' said Teri, not moving but watching the woman warily. 'Is he… I mean, where is Mr Nikerios?' she whispered.
'Downstairs, in Sir Arthur's study. He's making some phone calls.' The woman frowned slightly as she gazed at Teri's pale face. 'Are you sure now you wouldn't like some thin Hovis bread toasted with butter? You're looking awful peaked and wan, so you are, and it could be something plain and simple would settle your stomach for you.'
'All right, that sounds very nice,' Teri whispered, and the woman nodded and smiled approvingly at her before leaving the room.
Once the door had closed Teri sat up again and edged over to the bedside table, and reached for the tea-pot. When she had poured some she picked up the cup and sipped some of the hot liquid. It eased the dryness in her mouth and throat, so she poured more and holding the cup in her hand leaned back against the headboard of the bed.
