Marriage Bargain With His Innocent. Cathy Williams
all the signs of depression...’
‘Which could probably be taken care of with a course of tablets, because—believe it or not—tablets do exist for conditions like depression. But you’ve unilaterally, and without bothering to consult me, decided to rule that practical solution out.’
‘You’re making it sound so black and white and it’s not. Which is something you would see if you were around a little more often!’
‘Let’s leave the criticisms to one side for the time being, Georgie. In a nutshell, my mother is down, wishes she could hear the pitter-patter of tiny feet, and to oblige her and raise her spirits you’ve decided to tell her a whopper about you and I being involved.’
‘You should have seen the expression on her face, Matias. She hasn’t looked so overjoyed in... Well, I would say years. Not since your dad died. Even before the stroke!’
Matias looked anything but overjoyed. His expression was a mixture of outraged incredulity and simmering anger. Of course she hadn’t expected immediate capitulation, because that would have been too good to be true, but she saw she was going to have to use all her powers of persuasion. She couldn’t bear the thought of his mother fading away into a chronic depression.
Even after Antonio’s death Rose hadn’t sunk into the sort of dull-eyed, low-level despair Georgina had begun to notice in her recently. The fact that tests were still ongoing was simply feeding into her acceptance that the road she was travelling was heading sharply downwards. She was ill, she was down, and nothing was ever going to change.
Until now Georgie hadn’t really appreciated just how much of a surrogate mother Rose had become for her. Her own mother, whom she loved dearly, was worlds apart from her, wrapped up in academia—a world with which Georgina was unfamiliar. She had never got her intellect going, never been able to follow in her parents’ intellectual footsteps. Her father lectured in economics, her mother in international law.
She, on the other hand, even from a young age, had been a lot happier being creative. It was to her parents’ credit that they had never tried to push her towards a career she would have had no hope of achieving, and while they had busied themselves with university stuff Georgina, growing up, had drifted off to Matias’s house, bonded with his parents and adored their wacky creativity.
She loved his mother, and that thought put a bit of much-needed steel in her weakening resolve.
‘If I didn’t know better,’ Matias said, ‘I would be inclined to think that you’ve finally cracked. And here’s a little question, Georgie—why would my mother believe that you and I are an item? Every time we meet we end up arguing. I don’t like women who argue. My mother knows that. For God’s sake, she’s met enough of the women I’ve dated in the past to know that chalk and cheese just about sums it up when it comes to you and the kind of women I’m attracted to!’
Every word that left his beautiful mouth was a direct hit, but Georgina refused to let him get to her. However, she was distracted enough to ask, with dripping sarcasm, ‘So...you don’t like women who argue? Or do you mean you don’t like women who happen to have an opinion that doesn’t concur with yours? In other words, does your attraction to the opposite sex begin and end with towering blondes whose entire vocabulary is comprised of one word...yes?’
Matias folded his arms and burst out laughing. ‘Now you’re making me sound shallow,’ he drawled. ‘But, just for the record, I’ve never had a problem with towering blondes with single-syllable vocabularies. When you live life in the fast lane the last thing you want is a sniping nag reminding you that you’re back five minutes late and asking where’s the milk you were supposed to buy.’
‘I doubt you’ve ever done anything as mundane as buy a pint of milk, Matias.’
‘Not recently, I haven’t. Not since I was a kid, running errands down to that woefully badly stocked corner shop next to Bertie’s place. Of course there was only the occasional need for milk to be bought,’ he continued, his voice hardening, ‘after my parents decided to try their hand with a pet cow. But back on point, here. If my mother has bought this story of yours then she’s suffering from more than just mild depression. I mean...when exactly are we supposed to be conducting this raunchy, clandestine relationship that’s only now come to light?’
This was the longest one-to-one conversation they had had in a while, and Georgina was mesmerised by his dark, compelling beauty. She was noticing all sorts of details that had only before registered vaguely on her subconscious.
Like the depths of silvery grey in his eyes—at times as icy as the frozen Arctic wastes, at times almost black and smouldering. Like the sensual curve of his mouth and the aquiline perfection of his lean features. Not to mention the dramatic lushness of those black lashes that were so good at shielding what he didn’t want the world to see. He oozed an unfair amount of sinful sex appeal, and the longer she looked at him the more addled her brain became and the faster she lost track of what she wanted to say.
As if from those faraway days when she had dreamily fantasised about a relationship that had never stood a chance of materialising, the impact he’d always had on her came rushing back, as though no time had intervened...as though she’d never seen first-hand the type of women he enjoyed and the type he definitely didn’t. In short—her.
She dragged her disobedient eyes away and focused on a point just past his right shoulder. ‘I’m close to your mother, but she doesn’t know my every movement, Matias. I told her that we’d been meeting in secret for the past few months but didn’t want to bring it out into the open because it was still quite new...’
‘Ingenious. But now that’s all changed because we’ve...what? Had an epiphany? Fill in the blanks here, would you?’
‘I just said that it was...you know...in the early stages but definitely serious...’
‘And I’m guessing that you skirted over the details because you trusted that old adage that people will always believe what they want to believe?’
Georgina blushed. Her green eyes flashed defiance, but she was finding it hard to win him over, and with a sinking heart she knew that he wasn’t going to jump on board with this. She would have to return to the village with her tail between her legs and break the news that their so-called serious relationship had crashed and burned.
So much for impulse being a good thing. So much for the ends justifying the means.
‘Not going to happen, Georgie,’ Matias delivered with finality. ‘It was a ludicrous idea and, whilst I appreciate that you lied for the best of reasons, I’m not going to sucked into giving credence to your little charade.’
Defeated, Georgina could only look at him in silence. She tucked her hair behind her ear and sat on her hands, leaning forward, her body rigid with tension.
‘Furthermore, I dislike the fact that you saw fit to drag me into this poorly thought out scheme of yours. Did it never occur to you that I might have a life planned out that doesn’t include a phoney relationship with you to appease my mother?’
‘No,’ Georgina said with genuine honesty, because at the time there had been one thing and one thing only on her mind, and that had been the fastest way to bring Rose back from whatever dark place she was getting lost in.
‘Well, perhaps it should have.’
‘I just thought—’
‘Georgie,’ Matias interrupted heavily, standing up to indicate that the conversation was at an end, ‘you’ve always been like my parents. Warm-hearted, but essentially lacking in that practical gene which can sometimes appear harsh but which is the one that makes sense at the end of the day. Now, do you want some fondant?’
‘I’ve lost my appetite. And if by practical you mean hard as nails and cold as ice, then I’m very glad that I was born without that particular gene.’ She stood up as well. ‘You may pride yourself, Matias Silva, on seeing the world from