A Bride To Redeem Him

‘I asked why you really wanted to help me suddenly. You chose to deflect in your usual manner.’

‘You don’t pull any punches, do you?’ His grin widened.

‘With you? No. I don’t think I can afford to.’

‘I like that,’ he mused, taking another long swig of his coffee. She might want something from him but she wasn’t about to pander to him. He was all too accustomed to people pandering to his wishes. Not least in the bedroom. ‘That why I think you’d be the perfect marriage choice.’

‘I’m flattered,’ she drawled. ‘So why not tell me why you’re so fixated on your marriage idea all of a sudden.’

‘It wasn’t my plan,’ he reminded her smoothly. ‘It was your plan. You’re the one who asked me to help. And you’re the one who suggested I get married simply to satisfy the clause in my mother’s will.’

‘Well...yes,’ Alex faltered. ‘But...but not to me.’

‘You really want me to inflict this charade on some other woman?’

Why was he enjoying this quite so much?

‘I doubt they’d feel remotely inflicted on,’ she sniffed. ‘While for my part, my picture is in the paper as your latest lover. One of hundreds if the papers are to be believed. My reputation is, for want of a better word, tarnished.’

‘All the more reason for you to agree to marry me.’ He shrugged.

‘I don’t know.’ She toyed with the paper cup, long fingers playing with the corner of card, unpeeling it carefully, meticulously. ‘You’re right, I wanted your help but I was desperate. I suppose a part of me never thought you’d agree to it. And now you have... I can’t help but wonder why.’

‘Does it matter?’ he wondered aloud.

‘Yes. Are you motivated by getting one up on your father in this ridiculous game the two of you seem to be permanently playing?’

‘Does that matter?’

‘Yes, Louis, it does. Because you’re infamous for being a loose cannon and if I have any hope of controlling you then I need to know what sets you off.’

‘Now I can definitely tell you that,’ he countered suggestively.

‘Louis...’ Alex sighed, a soft sound as though he actually exasperated her.

And suddenly he didn’t want to play the charade with her any longer. He was exhausted with playing up to perceptions of how he should be. All he wanted to do was kick back and let the mask slip.

‘Louis,’ she bit out abruptly. ‘Is this about getting your own back on your father?’

He should lie. Come up with another typical quip.Instead, he heard himself respond.

‘Maybe. A little. You know, before last night I hadn’t thought about Rainbow House in years. Did you know I usually travelled with her? Backwards and forwards between Chateau Rochepont and the UK? Did you also know that Rainbow House is where my mother died?’

Died; suicide. Pot-ay-to; pot-ah-to.

He tried to stuff back the pain he’d thought long since buried. Play it down as he had in the past. But, for once, it didn’t seem to fit back in its dark, wretched cage. Instead, he plastered a smile on his mouth and pretended he didn’t hear the way Alex had sucked in a breath and shot him a look of pure horror.

‘I didn’t know that.’ Somehow that made him feel better. ‘Is that why you haven’t taken on her legacy all these years?’

‘Partly.’

He hadn’t been able to bear it. Taking on the legacy of a woman who could have achieved so much more. Who had chosen to take her own life when she could have followed her passion for the Lefebvre Trust; who had chosen to leave her desperate, seven-year-old son behind.