Save The Date!: The Rebel and the Heiress / Not Just a Convenient Marriage / Crown Prince, Pregnant Bride

‘Why not?’

Finally she looked at him. He tried not to wince at the lines of strain that bracketed her mouth. ‘Because of these.’ She held up a pile of opened letters. ‘Bills.’ She then proceeded to set each one down onto the table, barking out the amount due. ‘It adds up to more than half of what I have left in my account. At the moment I’m not sure I can afford to get Candy fixed.’

Yet without Candy on the road she wouldn’t be able to earn the money to pay those bills.

If there was something he’d learned in the last fortnight—other than the fact he really wanted to kiss her—it was that Nell worked like a Trojan. If anyone deserved to cop a break, she did.

‘How much money are you expecting to come in from your party orders and how much do you have outstanding?’

She blew out a breath, pushed her plate away and pulled her laptop towards her. ‘Let’s see...’ Her fingers danced across the keyboard.

He came around the table to peer over her shoulder. What he saw made him frown. ‘Princess, there’re half a dozen orders here—’ big orders too ‘—from over three months ago and the bills are still outstanding.’

If her shoulders drooped any further they’d be on a level with the table. He pointed to her spreadsheet. ‘Look—here, here and here.’ The movement brought him in close so her hair tickled his jaw and the sugar-drenched scent of her made his mouth water. He moved back a few inches to stop himself from doing something stupid. ‘These three orders on their own would cover the cost of your bills.’

‘I know, but...’

She leapt up and he shot back, dodging her chair before it could do him a serious injury. She paced to the end of the table and then spun back, flinging an arm in the air.

‘How do you make people pay? I’ve sent each of them at least three reminder letters. I’ve spoken to them on the phone and each time I’ve been assured the cheque is in the mail. Funny thing is, though, none of those cheques have yet materialised.’

‘Do you know if any of these people are in financial difficulties?’

‘No! That’s the thing. I mean I have written off a couple of debts because I found out...’

She’d written those debts off because she knew what it was like, hadn’t she? Because she had an amazing ability to empathise with others—something he’d have never expected in someone from her background. But then he’d misjudged her on so many levels.

It didn’t change several salient facts. ‘Do you think it’s either reasonable or responsible to order a party load of cupcakes if you can’t afford it?’

For a long moment she didn’t say anything. ‘I shudder to think how many bills my father didn’t pay.’

‘They weren’t your responsibility, Princess.’ And in the meantime people with the wherewithal to pay took advantage of her. He ground his teeth together.

She merely shrugged. ‘You want to know something funny?’

From the tone of her voice he suspected he wasn’t going to find whatever it was either amusing or humorous. ‘What’s that?’

‘Each of those people—’ she gestured to the computer ‘—with the outstanding debts; I thought they were my friends.’

It took an effort of will to keep his shoulders loose and relaxed. Two things were certain. Firstly, these people were not friends and secondly, she couldn’t afford to write those debts off.

‘What you need to do, Princess, is hire a money collector.’

She gazed at him blankly.

‘And, as you currently have me at your disposal...’

She stilled. For a glorious moment her eyes gleamed that extraordinary emerald-green that made him want to kiss her all over again. ‘Ooh, I couldn’t...’

‘You have no choice.’

He’d had experience of money collectors from the other side of the fence—they’d visited his mother and grandmother on a too regular basis. But it meant he knew the grim and forbidding demeanour, and he knew how to come across as threatening without actually threatening someone illegally. He’d threaten this lot with exposure in the local paper if they didn’t cough up.

She shifted from one foot to the other.

‘You worked hard for that money.’

‘I know, but...’

‘Nell, if you don’t have the stomach for this then maybe you need to rethink your plans for Whittaker House.’

She stiffened at that. Without another word she printed off those three bills and handed them to him. He glanced at them and nodded when he saw they contained all the information he needed—names, addresses and amounts outstanding.

‘Please don’t frighten them.’

‘Of course not.’ He crossed his fingers behind his back. After he was done they’d think twice before failing to pay a bill again.

‘I mean...this will be seriously humiliating for them.’

He’d make sure of it. These people hadn’t just humiliated Nell—they’d hurt her, had tried to bully her. They were supposed to be her friends, for goodness’ sake!

‘And just so you know...’ she moistened her lips ‘...the Fenimores have a Rottweiler.’

He tried not to focus on the shine of her lips. Or on the sweet curve of her lower lip and the way it seemed to swell under his gaze. He snapped away.

This attraction between him and Nell was crazy. It couldn’t go anywhere. Acting on it would be a stupid thing to do.

But glorious.

He ignored the insidious voice and tried to concentrate on the conversation. ‘Is he vicious?’

‘Not in the slightest. He’s a big softie. Call their bluff if they...’ She lifted a shoulder.

He almost laughed at that, but it wouldn’t have been a pretty laugh. He didn’t bother telling Nell that he didn’t respond well to threats. He’d deal with the Fenimores.

Before he left, however... ‘Nell, sit. We need to have a tough talk.’

She eyed him uncertainly, but did as he asked. He knew these bills were merely the tip of Nell’s financial troubles. He’d been working on that darn business plan of hers and there wasn’t a bank manager in Sydney who’d lend her a red cent unless she put Whittaker House up as collateral. He told her that now in plain unvarnished English.

‘But—’

‘I’m not telling you this because I want to make your life difficult, but you need to know the truth.’ The panic that raced through her eyes clutched at his heart. ‘Nell, I know you loved your grandmother.’

‘Yes, of course, but...’

But what did that have to do with anything? He could see the question in her eyes even if she didn’t ask it out loud. ‘How badly do you want to save Whittaker House? How badly do you want to turn it into a Victorian teahouse?’

She shot to her feet and clenched her hands so hard she shook. ‘It’s the most important thing in the world to me.’