Second-Best Bride. SARA WOOD
felt very alone. A cuddle and some understanding would be nice. But Jack only played the one role: that of a macho charmer. Sadly she took in the dyed black waves and incongruously unlined face. Plastic surgery had meant that her father bore little resemblance to the photograph by her mother’s bedside. It was the face of a stranger.
And Trader was a stranger too, she realised with an awful jolt, twisting her long, slender fingers in alarm. Sunlight shafted in through the window, lighting her pale face and lowered golden lashes, glancing off the facets of the diamonds and emeralds of her engagement ring. It had been hers for barely a week; dreams discovered, dreams realised…Dreams lost? Her breath caught in her throat and she had to fight not to break down.
‘Jack. Please understand,’ she said quietly. ‘I can’t marry Trader. I know it’s the eleventh hour. I know it’s embarrassing and annoying and it’ll cause a lot of trouble if I back out—but I’d rather cope with the flak than marry and have regrets for the rest of my life, or be driven to divorce. I never once stopped to think things through,’ she explained. ‘It’s been such a whirl. He never let up once, never left me alone,’ she added helplessly. ‘Trader bulldozed me.’
And she’d allowed it! Secretly, she was appalled. Always thoughtful, always reticent to the point of silence, she’d never let her feelings run away with her so drastically. How could she be marrying someone she’d only known for three weeks?
‘Trader’s like that. Single-minded. Beats you over the head till he gets what he wants,’ grunted Jack.
‘How do you know?’ Claire frowned. ‘You only met him a few days ago.’
‘We talked business a few times,’ said her father curtly.
‘Business?’ she queried. ‘I thought you disliked one another. Did you chat together while I was working at the hotel?’
‘We do loathe the sight of each other,’ Jack acknowledged. ‘But that’s got nothing to do with it. It’s too late to change your mind. You’ve got to be nice to him——’
‘I’ve what?’ she said sharply, unsure she’d heard correctly.
Grim and suddenly old behind the unnaturally youthful face, Jack said testily, ‘Be a good girl and treat him well! Do whatever he wants! Don’t cross him, Claire. There’ll be trouble.’
‘Trouble? Isn’t that being a bit melodramatic?’ she asked in astonishment.
‘I wish!’ said her father gloomily. ‘Take it from one who knows. Handle him with kid gloves. The man’s dynamite on legs. He’ll detonate just for spite. Marry him. For my sake. For your own.’
Fear drained even the effects of blusher on her pale, fine-boned face. Behind the hazy silk of her veil, her eyes looked like two huge mossy smudges as she stared back at her father. ‘I knew Trader was holding something back! I knew he wasn’t telling me everything, that he had a secret!’ she said tremulously. ‘Tell me what’s going on! I’m sitting in this car till you do!’
‘Oh God!’ he groaned. He was silent for a while and she felt like screaming when he hesitated for interminable seconds. ‘OK,’ he said heavily. ‘I’m in trouble. We’ve both got to crawl in whichever direction he orders. He’s calling the tune and I’m dancing. You’re part of the package. Let him have you!’
‘A package!’ Taut in every muscle, Claire leaned forward and let her father’s words roll around her head till they sank in fully. Her lips tightened into a searingly thin line.
‘Yeah. Bastard’s got a hold on me as tight as a ferret.’
‘You do mean Trader?’ she asked faintly. Her stomach gave a lurch again and her small hand flew to the tightly fitting bodice as if it could hold back the swelling misery inside.
‘Trader,’ confirmed her father bitterly. ‘Trader-blasted-Benedict! Terminator bloody III!’
‘She’s late.’
Trader scowled at his best man’s obvious remark. ‘Bride’s privilege,’ he said curtly.
‘Ye-e-es. Sure this is right for you?’ asked Charles with a wise caution. Trader had been edgy all morning. ‘You could walk out now——’
‘And miss out on the chance of a lifetime?’ growled Trader. His head turned with an angry jerk and his eyes raked the aisle grimly. If she didn’t turn up, he’d crucify that father of hers and spread his entrails across their agreement.
An elegant, gloved hand fluttered, attracting his attention. Phoenix. He smiled faintly at her beautiful face, admiring the perfect make-up, noting with approval her air of sophistication and grooming. Phoenix blew him a kiss and he grinned, his black eyes dancing with the love he felt for her. Fee’s features softened as they always did.
He raised a sardonic eyebrow and his broad shoulders, as if to say, ‘Will she, won’t she?’ and Fee gave him a secretive smile. Because they sure shared one hell of a secret. And as he turned back, he hoped to God no one found out before he was well and truly married to Claire.
The bottomless pit of anger inside him surged up and quickened his breathing, the bitterness of twenty or more years ripping through him till he saw nothing but a red haze before his eyes.
It had gone on long enough. It had begun to cripple his life, threatening to taint the woman he loved. Trader forced himself to focus clearly on the altar rail and make a decision. Ten more minutes. After that he’d leave. And blow the whistle on Jack Jardine.
The cruel smile hardened his granite profile and his long-time friend, Charles Fairchild, shifted uncomfortably. Trader had always been complex, with a dark side he’d never dared to investigate. ‘Bear up. She’s worth the wait,’ he said brightly.
Trader shot a quick look at the aisle and met Fee’s affectionate eyes again. He relaxed and turned back to Charles. ‘Yes,’ he said softly. ‘She is.’
‘Driver! Go round again,’ said Jack tensely as Claire slumped back into the seat and the crushed taffeta sighed all around her. ‘Claire, you’ve got to help me!’ he muttered. ‘My whole business is on the line. Hundreds of my employees all over the world could be out of a job—and it would be your fault! I’m facing ruin!’
‘From Trader? How? He’s only known you a few days!’ she exclaimed, bewildered by what was happening.
‘We’ve just met. But he’s been after me for years. Me and everything I have. Coveting it all! He doesn’t care how he gets it.’
Claire gasped. ‘But…what would he get from marrying me?’
‘Half of everything I own,’ Jack muttered, sounding utterly defeated.
‘He gets money if I go through with this?’ she asked with horror.
‘Money. Property. Control. Half my wealth and possessions go to him as your dowry, I keep the rest.’ Her father’s mouth twisted bitterly. ‘And in return he’ll keep his mouth shut about my tax evasion and a couple of questionable deals. I owe several million dollars. That’s a maximum three-hundred-year gaol sentence in America.’
‘Three hundred…! Oh, Dad!’ she moaned faintly. Now she understood! And Phoenix had been trying to warn her last night. Claire felt weak from shock. It was unbelievable that Trader could have betrayed her and lied so convincingly. A package! The idea rocked her to the core.
Her nagging doubts about the wisdom of their hasty marriage had turned into something really serious. Granted, she’d wanted to delay the marriage to straighten a few things out, but she hadn’t bargained on being faced with an insurmountable obstacle like…like being betrothed to a man she couldn’t respect. One who might not even love her.
‘He—he said he loved me!’ she ventured, a desperately hopeful note in her voice.