Bride, Bought and Paid For

The silence between them became a potent, volatile entity, one she refused to break as they reached the car.

For a brief moment Romy considered a final act of defiance, only to change her mind at the tempered warning evident in his dark eyes.

‘Do you need the address?’ Cool, stilted words, which had no effect whatsoever as Xavier released the car’s locking mechanism.

‘No.’

So he knew Andre’s fall from grace had led to a small, barely adequate flat in a western suburb, a far cry from the lovely home her parents had occupied during Romy’s youth.

She chose silence as Xavier traversed the inner city and took a route leading to one of numerous streets where redbrick houses were jammed close together on minuscule blocks of land.

The shabby home where Andre resided had long been converted into one-bedroom self-contained flats, a place her father would soon leave, if she had anything to do with it!

Her father’s flat was reached from a narrow central hallway, and Andre’s smile faltered as he opened the door, then disappeared as he saw the man standing at Romy’s side.

‘Xavier.’ The greeting was cautious, polite, and Romy’s stomach tightened into a painful knot as she gave her father an affectionate hug during the heavy silence which followed.

‘Andre,’ Xavier acknowledged, as her father stood to one side to allow them entry into an open-plan room comprising a lounge area and adjoining dining room.

Two single club chairs bracketed a small sofa, and Andre indicated them.

‘Please, take a seat. Can I offer you some tea or coffee?’

Her heart tore a little at her father’s attempt at normality in what had to be an unforeseen situation, one that would rapidly digress to extraordinary any time soon.

‘I’ll make it.’

In the kitchen she filled the electric kettle and set out cups and saucers, taking longer than necessary in order to delay rejoining both men.

She hadn’t expected her father to easily accept her decision, and her fingers shook a little as she heard Andre’s voice rise a little.

Time to go face the fallout, she decided as she placed everything on a tray and crossed the room, her head high, a smile firmly in place.

Andre viewed her in contemplative silence as she offered him coffee.

‘You always consider your actions,’ he declared, perplexed. ‘Yet you’re rushing headlong into a marriage in circumstances that are far too coincidental.’ He was silent for several seconds as he searched Xavier’s features. ‘If I thought you had deliberately orchestrated this…’ He faltered, momentarily unable to continue. ‘It’s unconscionable.’

Her heart ached for him, and she so badly wanted to fabricate something…anything that would help ease his mind. Except there was only pretence, and her father was too intelligent not to see through it.

‘A permanent relationship should be sanctified by marriage,’ Xavier revealed quietly. ‘Or would you prefer I take Romy as my mistress?’

The silence in the room was a palpable entity, and as much as she wanted to rail against Xavier, to do so in her father’s presence would only compound a bad situation.

In seeming slow motion she saw her father’s features pale and take on an ashen tinge as his tortured eyes searched her own.

‘I won’t let you do this.’

There was only one way to go, and she took it as she clasped his hands between her own. ‘I’m marrying Xavier this weekend,’ she said gently. ‘Will you honour me by being at my wedding?’

His eyes filled, and for a moment she thought he might break down, then he managed to regain a degree of composure. ‘Can you give me your word you’re doing this of your own free will?’

God forgive her, but what could she say other than—‘Yes.’

It hurt to see him struggle to accept her decision, and for a moment she thought he meant to protest further, except after several long seconds he inclined his head.

‘I won’t disappoint you.’ A sufficiently ambiguous claim that almost brought her undone.

Romy was unsure how she managed to get through the ensuing half hour before she indicated a need to leave. It was almost ten, and she had papers to mark. Besides which, it had been a hell of a day, and she desperately wanted the quiet solitude of her flat.

In the car she simply leant her head against the cushioned rest and momentarily closed her eyes as Xavier ignited the engine.

‘Relax.’

‘Sure, and that’s going to happen any time soon.’ She turned her head towards him and sent him a venomous glare. ‘Do you have any idea how much I hated what went down in there just now?’

‘It was better we approached Andre together.’

‘Better for whom?’

He spared her a glance as he paused the car at an intersection. ‘You.’

‘I didn’t need any support.’

‘No?’

‘Please,’ she remonstrated, hating him afresh. ‘Don’t play the protector.’

‘You don’t see me in that role as your husband?’

His query was indolently deceptive, and there was nothing she could do to quell the sudden spear of pain.

‘Like the title of wife is security against you taking a lover or three when you tire of me?’

‘Why would I take a lover if my wife satisfies me?’

‘That’s a two-way street.’

‘You doubt I can satisfy you?’

She remembered too well how he’d managed to satisfy her. Dammit, her body still reacted just thinking how it had sung in response to his touch.

He smiled as he eased the car into a main arterial road leading to St Kilda, and she focused her attention beyond the windscreen, aware of the passing traffic, the wide tree-lined thoroughfare.

It was a relief when he turned into Marine Parade and drew the car to a halt outside her apartment building.

Her hand was already on the seatbelt release, and the breath caught in her throat as she reached for the door clasp, only to have him frame her face with his hands.

He was close, much too close.