Marriage Bargain With His Innocent

‘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 your practical point of view, but that doesn’t necessarily make you a happy guy, does it? Yes, it might make you a wealthy one, but there’s a great big world out here that is rich and rewarding and has nothing to do with how much money you have in your bank account.’

‘We’ll agree to differ on that one.’

Georgina swerved past him and strode, head held high, towards the front door.

‘For God’s sake, Georgie, you can still stay the night in my house.’

‘I’d rather not, as it happens.’

‘Well, where’s the B&B?’

‘Somewhere in west London—but I’m happy to make my own way there.’

‘Just give me the address and I’ll get my driver to drop you. It’ll be a damn sight more comfortable than trekking on the Underground or trying to work out which bus goes where.’

He didn’t give her time to object. He flipped his cell phone out of his pocket and positioned himself in front of the door so that she couldn’t run away.

Matias had said what he’d wanted to say but he still felt guilty. He knew that she would see his lack of co-operation in her hare-brained scheme as a lack of concern for his mother. Nothing could be further from the truth. He had never had much in common with his parents—had always seen their idealistic, holistic, hippy approach to life as charming but irresponsible—but that didn’t mean that he hadn’t loved them in his own way.

His biggest regret was the fact that he hadn’t been able to make it back for his father’s funeral. He’d been abroad, and it had all happened so damned fast. The flight connections to get him back to Cornwall had not been quick enough. He’d been too late. He’d never had the chance to fix the relationship he’d had with his father—a relationship that had been broken over a period of years as Matias had become ever more distant from his tree-hugging parents, whose ideologies he had never been able to grasp.

He’d failed as a son and, even though he’d spent his adult life trying to make up for it, by assiduously making sure his mother was taken care of, Matias knew that there was a yawning chasm between them for which the small, round, feisty copper-haired woman in front of him had judged and sentenced him a long time ago.

But as far as Matias was concerned involving him in something like this without first consulting him just wasn’t on.

‘My driver will be here in five minutes.’ He looked at her and she squirmed resentfully under his piercing gaze. ‘What will you tell my mother?’

‘Do you care? Maybe I’ll tell her that I showed up here and sadly found you in bed with a blonde.’

She sighed. She had no one but herself to blame for the mess she found herself in. Matias had every right to refuse to go along with her. He had his jam-packed life to lead, after all.

‘I won’t say that.’

‘I didn’t think you would.’

‘Because I’m so predictable?’

‘Because you’re not the sort.’ He paused. ‘I will come down to Cornwall,’ he murmured thoughtfully. ‘Maybe next weekend, and I’ll stay for a little longer than I usually do.’

‘I’ll make sure to keep out of your way,’ Georgina inserted politely. ‘It might make for fireworks if we’re supposed to be in the throes of a hostile break-up.’

Matias looked at her and reluctantly grinned. ‘Tell me why you’ve always been able to make me laugh even though we fight like cat and dog? No, scrap that. You’ll probably end up fighting with me again. What story will you spin for my mother when you break the disappointing news that we’re no longer a hot item?’

‘I don’t know. I’ll think of something.’

‘This was your idea,’ Matias mused, ‘but I’ll shoulder the blame for the break-up of a relationship that never was. It’ll be far more believable that I’m the baddie in this scenario anyway. I won’t be letting my mother down too much.’

He saw the flash of curiosity in her eyes and sidestepped it adroitly.

‘Fair’s fair, after all. Now... Safe trip back, Georgie.’ He hesitated. What else was there to say?

Georgina didn’t hang around. His chauffeur-driven Mercedes was waiting by the pavement, engine idling, and she didn’t look back as she ducked into the back seat.

Mission Impossible had turned into Mission She Must Have Been Crazy. She consoled herself all way to the bed and breakfast by telling herself that she had done her best and there was nothing more she could have done.

The bed and breakfast was not in the most salubrious of locations, but it was reasonably priced and it was clean. Her room was so small that everything seemed to be squeezed in, with only just enough free space to allow passage from bed to bathroom without minor injuries occurring en route.

She had a shower and stuck on the little tee shirt and skimpy shorts she always wore to sleep. At night, in the darkness of the bedroom...that was the time she felt most self-confident about her body.

She could have been married by now. She could have had a child! It was bizarre to think it, but it was true. Lying there in the dark, something about seeing Matias’s dark, beautiful face brought to mind thoughts of Robbie and the marriage that had never been.

They were memories that she kept locked away in her head, but now, like imps released from captivity, they stretched and decided to have a little fun at her expense. Memories of being engaged, planning her big day, only to be told a handful of weeks before they were due to tie the knot that he just couldn’t go through with it.

‘It’s not you!’ he had declared magnanimously, in what had to be the most over-used craven expression in any break-up. ‘It’s me. I just don’t feel the same way about you that I used to... I don’t understand it...’

They had parted ways and she had had to endure months of sensing the whispered pity behind her back every time she entered a room.

Robbie had stopped being attracted to her. Had he ever been attracted to her? Maybe not. Maybe he had been carried along on a tide of wanting to please her parents, because he had been her mother’s star pupil.

In her darkest, deepest thoughts she had sometimes wondered whether a part of her hadn’t simply been drawn to a guy who was diametrically different from Matias—a guy on whom she could pin all her hopes, finally snuffing out that silly, girlish flame that had continued to burn long after she should have grown out of it.

She cringed when she’d remembered the way Robbie had tried to encourage her to lose a bit of weight. Afterwards, when the dust had settled, she had discovered that he had met and married someone else in record time. Someone long and thin. Ever since then Georgina had made even more of an effort to conceal the body that had let her down.

Yes, it was silly—and, yes, it was nonsensical. But since when did feelings make sense?

She drifted into a restless sleep and had no idea how long she had been asleep when she heard a knocking on her door.

She surfaced, feeling drugged and disorientated. It didn’t occur to her to be careful when she tentatively pulled the door open because the bed and breakfast was securely locked against intruders. Which meant that the owner, a lovely woman in her fifties, could be the only person knocking.

And it wasn’t that late. Only a little after eleven. But she had been so shattered after her pointless visit to Matias that she had climbed into bed and fallen asleep almost immediately.

Her eyes started at the bottom. Loafers—expensive ones. Black jeans—low-slung. Black close-fitting jumper. Muscular body.

Georgina knew that it was Matias before her eyes collided with his silver dark gaze.

‘Let me in, Georgie.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘We need to talk.’

‘How did you get in? Who let you in?’ She peered angrily past him in search of the culprit. ‘Whoever let you in had no right to do so!’

‘She sensed I wasn’t going to steal the family heirlooms. Let me in.’