Paper Marriages: Wife: Bought and Paid For / His Convenient Marriage / A Convenient Wife

‘Please could you go for me? Whatever you arrange I’ll accept, but keep me out of it.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t do that. Mr Maffeiano has insisted on dealing with you personally. But it will work out fine, I’m sure.’ Mr Simpson pressed a card with the address on it into her hand. ‘Now, why don’t you run along and do some shopping, cheer yourself up?’

Mr Simpson looked pleased, while Penny looked sick when she had finally left the lawyer’s office. She could not believe what had happened; it was her worst nightmare realised. She was dreading having to meet Solo again, but she had no choice.

She could vividly remember the horrendous scene when Solo had caught her in the arms of Simon. Incredulous anger had been followed by a tirade of what had sounded like curses in Italian and then, as if a switch had been thrown in his brain, he’d stepped back, coldly remote and in complete control.

Acting for all she was worth, Penny had told Solo she was sorry if she had given him the wrong impression, but Simon had always been her boyfriend, and she had only dated Solo because Simon had been away.

Even now she still shivered when she remembered the look of icy contempt Solo had slashed at her, before in the next moment Simon had played his part.

‘Penny and I have been a couple for ages, and I know her well. When her stepmother asked her to be nice to you she was too soft-hearted to say no—she doesn’t like to hurt people. You do understand, sir,’ and the sir had simply accentuated the age difference.

‘Yes, I understand perfectly,’ Solo had drawled. His handsome face devoid of all expression, and his grey eyes cold and hard as the Arctic waste, had frozen her to the spot. ‘Congratulations, Penny, I do believe Veronica has finally met her match.’ And swinging on his heel, he had stalked off.

After the fatal day when she had lied to Solo and he had left, life had never been quite the same at Haversham Park. Her father had told her Solo had called but had had to leave in a hurry. Her father had continued saying he was sure Solo would be in touch as he was very fond of her.

Penny had responded, lying through her teeth, ‘Maybe, but he is far too old for me, and I’m going to university with Jane. We are really looking forward to meeting other young people, laying the groundwork for a good career.’

Her father had looked shocked, and then worried, before sighing and saying, ‘You’re very young; I should have expected it.’

Three weeks later when Penny had left for university and there had been no contact with Solo, Veronica had realised something was wrong, and accused Penny of destroying the best chance her father had ever had of making a fortune.

‘It was obvious Solo fancied you. You should have given him more encouragement. What girl needs an education when they can hook a millionaire like Solo Maffeiano? You’re an idiot.’ Which had summed up Veronica’s slant on life, Penny had thought dryly.

‘For heaven’s sake, cheer up, woman,’ Jane’s voice cut into her troubled thoughts. ‘Sell the mouldering old pile and get a life like me.’

For the next couple of hours Penny did try. But the thought of the meeting tomorrow prevented Penny relaxing and she was glad when the evening was finally over and they returned to Jane’s house.

At five minutes to noon Penny walked into the building that housed the London offices of the Maffeiano Corporation. She glanced across the marble-floored foyer to where a smart brunette sat at a long, curved desk, bearing the word ‘Reception’ on a gold plaque.

Taking a deep breath, Penny pulled the jacket of her black suit down to her hips and walked to the desk. ‘Excuse me, I have an appointment with Mr Maffeiano.’

The receptionist’s gaze slid over Penny’s slender figure dressed in the neat black suit, with the white blouse beneath, the blonde hair scraped back in a bun, and the pale face. ‘You have an appointment with Mr Maffeiano?’

Bristling, Penny affirmed with a nod, ‘Yes.’ So she didn’t look like his usual model woman, so what! At college she’d had no trouble fighting off a succession of young men more interested in her looks than her brain. Then during nine months as a mother to James she had developed a firm belief in her own intellectual talents, and ability to cope with any eventuality. This was business, strictly business, and she could handle it.

‘I’ll call his secretary. Take a seat.’ The girl gestured to a seating arrangement surrounding a table holding magazines.

Penny was glad to sit down because her legs were suddenly weak. If the girl did but know Penny did not want to be here, only the decision had been taken out of her hands. She had not slept a wink last night, the enormity of what had happened was almost destroying her.

Over and over again she asked herself why her father would have done such thing, but could not find an answer. The only certainty was that she had lost the family home. The only decision left was where the house would go—to Solo or to a stranger—and that was not up to her, but to Solo. She dreaded the prospect of meeting him again.

‘Miss Haversham.’ A grey-haired lady in her fifties approached Penny. ‘Will you come this way, please?’

‘Thank you.’ Penny tried a smile and followed the lady down a long, carpeted corridor.

The secretary opened a door at the end, and gestured Penny to enter before her. ‘You can wait here. Mr Maffeiano is delayed, but he won’t be long. Help yourself to coffee,’ she said, indicating a coffeemaker that stood on a small table in one corner of what was obviously an office. The woman took a seat behind a large computer desk. ‘You look as though you need a fix, my dear,’ and she smiled, suddenly looking very human.

‘No… No, thank you.’ Penny returned the smile, her head turning when a double door that she surmised led to the inner sanctum was opened and a woman walked out. Penny stifled a silent groan. Tina Jenson…

‘Hello—well, if it isn’t little Penny Haversham,’ the tall redhead drawled, then added, ‘I’m surprised you have the nerve to face Solo after the stroke you pulled.’

‘And hello to you too.’ Penny said dryly. Why should she be surprised to see Tina? The woman was Solo’s Personal Assistant and long-time lover. If any stroke had been pulled, it had been by Solo Maffeiano on her father, she thought angrily. Her father had been no businessman, Penny would be the first to admit. Solo had to have tricked him, anything else she could not contemplate. She had adored her dad; still did, she thought sadly.

‘You have nerve, I’ll give you that,’ Tina said shortly, and, with a goodbye to the secretary, swept out of the office.

Penny watched her leave with mixed feelings. It was only the second time she had met the woman, but Tina did not improve on acquaintance, she thought bitterly. Obviously Tina and Solo were still together, and Penny refused to believe the slight pain in her heart was anything other than a touch of heartburn. She had not eaten anything since yesterday.

Penny glanced at the coffee but dismissed the idea, and sat down on one of the chairs provided. All she’d had for breakfast were three cups of black coffee, and she was nervous and angry enough without having another shot of caffeine. She clasped her hands around her purse in her lap in a deathlike grip and waited.

‘He will see you now,’ the secretary announced as a green light on the console flashed, and, indicating the door to Penny, she added, ‘But please make it quick, he does not have much time. His meeting with Mrs Jenson took longer than expected.’

I’ll just bet it did! Penny thought unkindly. A kiss and a cuddle, or maybe more had delayed him! Rising to her feet, Penny straightened her shoulders and with a brief, ‘Thank you,’ in the secretary’s direction she walked into Solo’s office.

Warily she glanced around the elegant room. Dark panelling, a polished wood floor with what looked like a very expensive carpet, a black leather sofa and chair, and by the massive window that filled almost a whole wall was an enormous mahogany desk and a high-backed chair. But no Solo Maffeiano!

She walked slowly into the room, her heart racing. It was hot. May and the central heating was still on. Not a luxury Penny could afford at Haversham Park, she thought wryly. She unfastened the jacket of her suit, and pulled at the collar of her blouse.

Maybe it was deliberate. Solo Maffeiano was the sort who would like to make a client sweat, she thought bitterly, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling before she forced her feet onwards to the desk. She stopped at the edge, at a loss as to what to do next. She tried a polite cough, her throat tightening in the process.

Slowly the chair swung around and she saw Solo and her breath stuck in her throat. Their eyes met and she almost passed out. It was the fiercest electric connection she had ever experienced in her life. She blinked, and when she looked again, like a replay of her eighteen-year-old self, she was totally intoxicated by the sheer animal magnetism of the man that the years in between had done nothing to dispel.

To disconcert her even more Solo was lounging back in the chair, his jacket and tie discarded, the tailored white shirt fitting his broad shoulders to perfection, the collar open at the neck to reveal the strong, tanned throat and a glimpse of black chest hair. Her pulse raced, and her mouth went dry; she could not have spoken to save her life.

‘The honourable Penelope Haversham,’ he drawled sarcastically. ‘Allow me.’ He rose to his feet and walked around the desk.

She watched him move, six feet three of stunningly attractive male. She had forgotten quite how tall Solo was, and how he projected a power, a raw sexuality that made her stomach muscles clench in helpless response. From the top of his dark head, to the broad shoulders, to the dark pleated trousers that settled on his lean hips and long legs, he was the epitome of predatory male and she could not help staring.

Her fascinated gaze watched as he took a chair from against the wall and placed it beside her. Realising she was staring, Penny jerked back her head and felt a painful tide of red wash over her face. She was ogling the man like an idiot.

‘Sit down,’ Solo commanded coldly.

She was glad to oblige, as her legs were shaking. ‘Thank you, Mr Maffeiano,’ she murmured politely, and was aware of him resuming his seat at the opposite side of the desk.

‘Mr Maffeiano,’ he drawled mockingly. Ice-grey eyes cut like a laser into hers, then slowly swept over her slender body with a frigid disdain that even now, after so many years had the power to make her cringe. It was the exact same look he had given her when he had caught her kissing Simon, as though she was beneath contempt.

‘Surely you and I are on first-name terms at least, Penny?’

She blushed even redder. ‘Yes, of course, Solo,’ she muttered, her tongue sticking to the roof of her dry mouth.

She was behaving like a fool. She was no longer a naive young girl, with a head full of romantic ideals of love and marriage, an easy conquest for a ruthless, sophisticated man of the world like Solo. She should be thanking her lucky stars that she had seen through the devil in time, instead of sitting here, trembling and blushing like a schoolgirl.

‘Well, let’s get down to business—I haven’t much time to spare.’ His deep voice was curt. ‘I have a luncheon engagement at one.’

Warily she watched him as he shoved his chair back a little, and flung one arm casually over the back. Nervously she straightened the hem of her skirt over her knees.

His grey eyes followed the movement of her hands and narrowed to linger on her legs, and the charged sexuality of the knowing look he swept slowly over her body made heat surge in her face, and, to her shame, another more intimate place. The shockingly helpless flare of response made her press her knees together, her body became taut, and she wanted to curl up and hide.