Wife By Contract, Mistress By Demand
Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

COMING NEXT MONTH

PROLOGUE

‘WHAT the hell do you think you’re doing?’

Gabriella raised long, sooty lashes to reveal eyes of so deep a blue they appeared violet, to look across the terrace at Rufus, the man she had fallen in love with a year ago when her mother had married his father, the man her eighteen-year-old heart desperately hoped would fall in love with her, too!

She had heard his hire-car arrive on the gravelled drive at the front of the Gresham family villa in Majorca. She forced down her nervousness and remained stretched out on her lounger soaking up the sun, rather than running to greet him as she wanted to do. Rufus, she had quickly learnt, was not a man that you ran after, but instead waited for him to come to you—even if he was the love of your life and just looking at him made your knees tremble with longing!

He stood in the doorway that led out onto the terrace, having removed the jacket to his light business suit in the intense heat of the early afternoon. His overlong hair was the colour of molasses, glinting golden in the sun, and his eyes—a piercing pale green, Gabriella knew—were hidden behind the black sunglasses he wore.

But his question, and that disapproving slant to his chiselled lips, were enough to tell her that he wasn’t at all pleased at finding her sunbathing alone on the terrace, in a bikini comprised of small scraps of orange material.

Deliberately so. Rufus had a habit of either treating her as an irritating child, or of totally ignoring her altogether. But she so much wanted him to recognize her as a desirable woman.

‘I’m working on my tan, Rufus, what does it look like I’m doing?’ She smiled, at the same time stretching languorously, arching the slenderness of her back, the movement forcing forward the fullness of her breasts, her nipples visibly aroused in her nervousness through the bikini’s orange fabric.

‘I can see that, damn it,’ she bit back scathingly. ‘For goodness’ sake put some clothes on, will you?’ he snapped as he stepped outside onto the terrace.

‘I’m topping up my tan, silly,’ she said poutingly. ‘And why should I bother putting clothes on when there’s no one around to see me but you?’ she added with tentative provocation.

It was one thing wanting Rufus to see her as a desirable woman, something else entirely actually maintaining this provocative pose!

The Gresham family villa, ‘Bougainvillea’, was perched alone on the side of the mountain overlooking the terraced village below, with a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the Mediterranean.

Why bother, indeed? Rufus acknowledged impatiently, grateful for the black shield of his sunglasses that hid his emotions as his gaze swept slowly over Gabriella’s lithely perfect body, already tanned to a golden brown and glistening invitingly from the oil she had smoothed over her torso, arms and those long, long legs.

It was a beautifully slender body, without blemish, that only the very young possessed, and that would be hard for any man to resist.

And Rufus had had plenty of practice at doing exactly that since Gabriella had burst into his life a year ago, making no effort to hide her infatuated interest in him.

An interest, at thirty years of age, he’d had no intention of satisfying!

Or, at least, he hadn’t had any intention of satisfying until he’d walked out onto the terrace a few minutes ago and seen her lying there…

‘Anyone could have walked out here and—’

‘“Anyone” didn’t, you did,’ she reasoned cajolingly. ‘Besides, the women on the village beach won’t be wearing any more than this.’ She frowned.

The village beach, Rufus knew from past experience, would be full of families at this time of day, most of the women wearing bikinis, some even topless, yes—but they weren’t alone with the man they had been shamelessly infatuated with for the last year!

‘Where are your parents?’ he demanded harshly.

A little desperately, he acknowledged with inward self-impatience. At least the presence of his father and Gabriella’s mother, his stepmother, would alleviate this situation. Even if he still found Heather’s role as his stepmother almost as irritating as having this gloriously beautiful creature as his stepsister.

He was only here at all because he had stopped off to visit his father for a couple of days on his way back from a business trip to mainland Spain.

‘James wanted to go into Palma some time today to buy my mother something wildly extravagant for their anniversary, but they should be back in a couple of hours.’ Gabriella sat forward slightly, her violet-coloured eyes smokily inviting now as she looked up at him. ‘They waited in for you this morning, but when you didn’t arrive they checked with the airline and were told that your flight had been delayed for three hours. It’s Margarita’s afternoon off, too.’ She shrugged bare, glistening shoulders. ‘So I said I would stay here and wait for you.’

Damn, damn, damn. Not even the Gresham Majorcan cook and housekeeper was here to act as chaperone!

‘Don’t look so disapproving, Rufus.’ Gabriella looked a little uncertain as she obviously sensed his displeasure. ‘Or is it just that you’re feeling a little hot and dusty from travelling?’ she considered concernedly. ‘Why don’t you go for a swim?’ she suggested with that naturally husky voice that alone could send a shiver of awareness down Rufus’s spine.

Gabriella Maria Lucia Benito.

Daughter of Heather and the deceased Antonio Benito.

Apart from that deep violet of her eyes, Gabriella had inherited all of her colouring from her Italian father, her hair a glorious swathe of tumbling black curls that fell femininely down the long length of her spine, her skin naturally olive in complexion, but tanned a sleek mahogany from the weeks she had already spent at the villa.

But as far as Rufus was concerned, her mother, who had been living in rented accommodation with her young daughter and had had to work as James’s secretary in order to support them both, had only married his father because he was a millionaire many times over and the owner of the prestigious Gresham’s, a London-based store that had a worldwide reputation for exclusivity.

Heather’s daughter, the beautifully stunning, exotically sensual Gabriella, as far as Rufus was concerned, had just as calculatingly decided that he, James’s only son and heir, would make an equally suitable husband for her!

There was only one problem with that line of thinking—Rufus had little intention of ever marrying again. He had tried that once, only to discover that Angela was solely interested in the Gresham money, too, walking out after only a year of marriage, and leaving their two-month-old daughter behind when she did.

Their divorce, six months later, had been messy and very public, resulting in Rufus giving Angela half his vast personal fortune in order to maintain custody of the baby daughter he knew Angela had no interest in anyway.

And into that maelstrom had walked Gabriella Maria Lucia Benito, when his widowed father, obviously having learnt nothing at all from Rufus’s experience, had announced in the same breath that he intended both retiring as Chairman of Gresham’s, in favour of Rufus, and marrying the attractive fifty-year-old widow who had been his secretary—his secretary, for heaven’s sake; how clichéd was that?—for the last year, bringing with her a seventeen-year-old daughter from her previous marriage.

Tall, with a natural grace of movement, Gabriella, in her fitted tee shirts and tight, tight jeans, had taken one look at Rufus, it seemed, and thereafter done everything in her youthful power to tempt him into acknowledging her as a woman every time he visited his father at Gresham House in Surrey, her hungry violet gaze seeming to follow him everywhere.

But Rufus’s own experience with Angela—even if he ever did contemplate getting married again, which was highly unlikely, to give his now two-year-old daughter a mother—meant that Gabriella Maria Lucia Benito, no matter how alluring, would be the very last girl he would choose. One grasping gold-digger in the family—her mother!—was quite enough, thank you.

But, he decided with another sweeping glance at Gabriella she was without doubt a beautiful girl.

‘I think I might just take a dip in the pool,’ he murmured throatily, starting to unbutton his shirt. ‘The parents will be gone another couple of hours, you said…?’

‘Yes,’ Gabriella confirmed huskily, watching covertly as he stripped the shirt from his darkly tanned and muscled torso before unbuckling the belt on his trousers, unzipping them to drop them down onto the terrace exposing long and powerful legs.

The black fitted boxers he wore made more than adequate swimming trunks. But she blushed as she took in the dark hair on his chest, that moved down in a vee before thickening again, and her eyes widened as she saw the evidence of his arousal.

Rufus wanted her!

Gabriella swallowed hard, slightly breathless as her gaze returned to the hard, uncompromising planes of his face, those pale green eyes still hidden behind the dark glasses.

Dropping down onto the side of her lounger, the touch of his thigh searing hers, Rufus drawled, ‘Would you rub some oil on my back for me?’

Her hands shook slightly as she tipped some of the oil into her palms before moving to touch the broad width of his shoulders, loving the way his muscles tensed and flexed as she smoothed the oil into his skin, fingers softly kneading as she moved down the length of his spine.

Never, in her wildest fantasies about this man—and there had been a lot of those this last year!—had she ever thought he would allow her to be here like this with him, touching him, his hard strength making her tremble, a warmth between her thighs spreading as she felt the sexual tension between them grow.

‘Now the front.’ Rufus turned to lie back on the lounger, at last taking off those sunglasses to look up at Gabriella as she now sat beside him.

Gabriella rubbed the oil into his chest, her breath catching slightly in her throat as she felt herself captured by that totally assessing gaze as it moved over her.

‘Lower,’ he invited, seductively soft, one of his hands moving to rest on her thigh.

She could feel the warmth in her cheeks, her gaze avoiding his as she looked down at her tanned hands moving over his slightly paler skin, his stomach tautly muscled.

‘Lower, Gabriella,’ he urged throatily.

So much for showing Rufus how sophisticated she was, Gabriella thought nervously as her hands shook so much as she tipped more oil into them that she splashed some of the liquid onto his stomach and thighs.

‘Yes, there,’ he encouraged achingly.

Her touch was driving him insane, Rufus acknowledged. He breathed a short sigh of relief as her hands eventually moved down the long length of his legs. As it was, the featherlight touch of her fingers on his thighs and muscled calves did little to alleviate his ache, those caressing fingers on his legs increasing the need he had to make love to her.

But he shouldn’t…wouldn’t.

They had a couple of hours before the parents returned, Gabriella had said, and he intended touching her in the same way she had just touched him. Touching, but not taking.

‘Now you,’ he murmured gruffly as he moved to sit up and gently push Gabriella down on the lounger.

Rufus looked deeply into her eyes, taking his time as he rubbed the oil into his hands before moving them down to anoint her, Gabriella’s groan of pleasure caused a similar response in his own body.

Yes, he was going to enjoy touching this sleekly provocative young woman. Every inch of her!

Gabriella couldn’t look away from Rufus, totally enraptured by the sensations he was creating inside her as he caressed and massaged her with oil.

Just when she thought she couldn’t bear it any more Rufus pulled away from her, raising his head to look down at her, eyes dark with satisfaction.

‘Lower?’ he prompted throatily.

She could barely breathe, let alone speak, the brush of her lashes down against her cheek answer enough as Rufus tipped more oil on his hands to move down the slenderness of her waist.

Once again he held her gaze as he touched her, Gabriella’s thighs moved sensuously against him as he increased the rhythm of his caress, feeling her arousal deepening and increasing as she hurtled towards a pleasure she had never known before, arching against him as that heat spun out of control and wave after wave of sensation ripped through the whole of her body, sobbing low in her throat, her hands moving up as her fingers became entangled in his dark blond hair, holding him against her as those waves became a crescendo of feelings that had her clinging to Rufus in unashamed abandon.

She had never experienced anything like this in her life before, none of her romantic daydreams about Rufus having prepared her for the reality, for her completely uncontrolled response to his caresses.

She had never felt as happy before as she did at this moment, knew that Rufus couldn’t touch her in this way if he didn’t love her, too.

She smiled dreamily as she imagined a future with Rufus. As his wife. How surprised her mother and James were going to be when they told them the news. They—

‘Not bad, Gabriella,’ Rufus derided softly as he looked down at her, his eyes no longer hot with arousal but coolly assessing. ‘Very responsive, in fact,’he dismissed dryly as his gaze moved over her with clinical appreciation. ‘But I think you had better go and make yourself decent before the parents get back,’ he added mockingly. ‘We wouldn’t want to shock their sensibilities, now, would we?’

Gabriella blinked up at him frowningly, her eyes dark smudges of purple, not quite sure of him now. Rufus had just caressed her in a way no one else ever had, had taken her to a climax beyond her wildest dreams. Admittedly, they hadn’t made love, but surely the intimacy they had just shared had to mean something to him—

‘I think I’ll go for that swim now.’ He stood up, stretching languidly. ‘And then I think I’d like something to eat,’ he added dismissively.

He would like something to eat? They had just made love—well…Rufus had just touched her!—so how could he just calmly start talking about food as if—?

‘What’s the matter, Gabriella?’ Rufus looked down at her with those coldly assessing eyes, his mouth twisted derisively. ‘Not satisfied yet?’ he mocked throatily. ‘Well, give me a chance to have a swim and something to eat, and maybe I’ll be in the mood for more of the same—’

‘Why are you being like this?’ Gabriella sounded pained, tears swimming in the deep purple of her eyes.

‘Like what?’ Rufus came back tersely, not falling for those tears; Angela had shed ones just like them every time she hadn’t been able to get her own way during the total of eighteen months they had been together. Crocodile tears, totally deceptive, totally false.

Gabriella blinked dazedly. ‘But we just—’

‘No, Gabriella, you just,’he corrected hardly. ‘You’ve been wanting me to touch you for the last year, and now I’ve done so…’ he shrugged ‘…so what are you complaining about?’

She shook her head. ‘I don’t understand…’

‘Gabriella, I’ve been stuck in an airport and an airplane for a total of seven hours,’ he reminded impatiently, determined not to be swayed by the bewilderment in those deep purple eyes. ‘I’m tired and I’m hungry,’he snapped. ‘If you want any more from me then you’re going to have to wait until I’ve satisfied at least one of my other appetites!’

She reached up to readjust her bikini top before answering him. ‘But I thought—’ She shook her head. ‘I thought you and I—’

‘Thought what?’ Rufus’s patience snapped completely. ‘That you would seduce me—as you’ve been trying so hard to do this last year!’ he added scathingly. ‘And that I would then ask you to marry me, that I would behave like the lovesick fool my father has over your money-grasping mother? Well, think again, Gabriella,’ he bit out coldly. ‘I’ve already given all that I have to give where you’re concerned!’ His top lip curled back sneeringly. ‘If you want a repeat performance, perhaps I’ll be willing to oblige. But later, not now.’

Gabriella stared up at him tearfully.

She loved this man. Had thought his response meant he’d loved her in return. But his response, it seemed, had only been physical. A physical response he’d had complete control over as he’d taken her to climax, his comments since meaning to humiliate her—and succeeding.

Worse, he had called her mother money-grasping—her wonderful mother, who had known such misery when married to Gabriella’s father, and deserved every moment of the happiness she had now found with James.

‘Rufus, you can’t seriously believe that my mother…She loves your father very much!’ she protested, wondering what that made her if Rufus could believe those things about her mother.

‘Oh, give me a break!’he scorned hardly. ‘It’s easy to love someone when they’re worth the millions my father is.’

‘But she really loves him!’ Gabriella defended heatedly.

‘Of course she does,’ he sneered. ‘Enough to accept him giving her a hundred thousand pounds to pay off her debts before they were even married, anyway. A little excessive for a dress allowance, wouldn’t you say?’ he added scathingly.

‘What?’ Gabriella gasped, standing up. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Oh, come on, Gabriella,’ he sighed wearily. ‘Just accept that I know about the money and the debts, and let’s move on, shall we?’

She really didn’t know what he was talking about, was sure there had to be some sort of mistake. Her mother would never—‘You’re just bitter and twisted, Rufus, because everyone knows that Angela only married you for—’ She broke off, realizing she had gone too far as she saw Rufus’s face darken ominously. He seemed to loom over her now, his green eyes so pale they looked silver.

‘Yes?’ he prompted softly, dangerously. ‘Angela only married me for…?’

Her mother, aware of all the details of Rufus’s marriage and divorce, had thought it best if they never talked about it, and now Gabriella had thrown it in Rufus’s own face!

But he had insulted her mother, for goodness’ sake, and his accusations were totally untrue. There was no way her mother could have had debts of a hundred thousand pounds!

She shook her head. ‘Not all women are like Angela—’

‘Aren’t they?’ Rufus cut in confrontationally. ‘Do you deny the fact that you’ve done nothing but throw yourself at me for the last year?’

Her cheeks burned at his obvious derision; she was still slightly dazed by the way he had turned on her after the physical intimacy they had just shared.

And, yes, she had been unashamedly besotted with him for the last year, from the very first moment she’d seen him, in fact, but that was because she had fallen in love with him, not for the reason he seemed to be implying.

Implying?

After the things he had accused her mother of he wasn’t implying anything, was clearly stating that her only interest in him was the same as her gold-digging mother’s had been where his father was concerned—his millions!

Rufus eyed her derisively. ‘Do you deny that you also stayed here deliberately today with the idea of seducing me?’

Gabriella knew she couldn’t deny that either, but that was only because—because—

Because he had remained totally immune to all her other attempts to show him how much in love with him she was!

And now she knew the reason he had remained immune—because he believed her mother had only married his father for his money, and believed she only wanted him for the same reason!

She shook her head firmly. ‘I don’t believe a word you’ve said about my mother.’

‘Then ask her, Gabriella,’ he challenged scathingly. ‘Just ask her.’ He gave a mocking shake of his head. ‘I have no idea why my father bothered to marry Heather at all when he was already paying for it—’ Rufus broke off abruptly as Gabriella’s hand landed hard against his cheek.

Rufus reached up and grasped her wrist, his face dangerously close to hers now, his eyes glowing with an icy heat, the mark of Gabriella’s hand starting to show red on one rigid cheek. ‘Do that again, Gabriella, and I promise you’ll regret it,’ he grated between clenched teeth.

Her eyes blazed deeply purple as she glared right back at him, breathing hard in her agitation. ‘I hate you!’

‘Good,’ he said with satisfaction. ‘Perhaps in future this will teach you to leave me out of your quest for a rich husband!’

‘I wouldn’t come near you again if you were the last man on earth!’ she assured him emotionally.

‘How original!’ Rufus scorned.

‘You bastard!’ Gabriella told him with feeling. ‘You’re an absolute bastard and I hate you!’ She turned and ran into the villa.

Rufus stood poised on the edge of the pool for several furious minutes before turning sharply and diving deep into the water, relishing the coolness as he began to swim the length of the pool.

Gabriella hated him.

Good.

So why didn’t it feel as satisfying as he’d imagined?

CHAPTER ONE

FIVE years later, as she gazed across the lawyer’s office at Rufus Gabriella knew that she still hated him!

‘If I could get straight on to the terms of Mr Gresham’s will…?’ David Brewster prompted politely once they were seated.

‘Go ahead,’ Rufus instructed tersely.

He didn’t want her here, Gabriella knew. Or his cousin Toby, if the way the two men had greeted each other a few minutes ago was anything to go by. On that she could agree with him however, after what Toby had done.

But although she knew Rufus wouldn’t believe her, she really wished she weren’t here.

Given a choice, she would rather James hadn’t died at all. She’d much rather he were still here giving her the fatherly advice and love that she had found so invaluable since her mother’s death a year ago.

James had been devastated after Heather was killed in a car crash last year, and never really seemed to fully recover from the blow. He had suffered a heart attack six months later, and then another, fatal one, a month ago.

No, given a choice Gabriella would rather have had both James and Heather still alive than being summoned to this lawyer’s office—as must Rufus and Toby have been—at this time, on this day, for a meeting about James’s will.

She and Rufus hadn’t spoken at all since they had arrived separately. As they hadn’t spoken for the last five years. As they wouldn’t ever speak again once this last link with James was severed.

David Brewster’s expression was grave as he opened the official-looking document on top of his desk to look at them over the top of the half-moon glasses he had perched on top of his nose. ‘First things first,’ he said slowly. ‘I have already informed by letter the recipients of small bequests in Mr Gresham’s will, members of the household staff and suchlike,’ he dismissed. ‘And there is, of course, a trust fund for his granddaughter Holly, to be administered by her father and myself until she is of an age to receive the bulk capital.’

‘Lucky old Holly,’ Toby said cheerfully, an actor by profession, his dark good looks unfortunately not matched in talent, meaning that he was very often ‘resting’ rather than actually working. ‘Pity she isn’t eighteen rather than seven, then I could have married her!’

‘Over my dead body!’ Rufus growled in response.

‘If necessary,’ Toby came back tauntingly.

Gabriella barely listened to the exchange, her earlier tension rising to an unbearable pitch as David Brewster dismissed so lightly those ‘small bequests’.

What did that mean?

That she was a recipient of a large bequest…?

If so, Rufus was just going to dislike her more than ever.

If that were possible!

Rufus’s gaze narrowed on the elderly lawyer. ‘Can I ask if this is a recent will of my father’s?’

‘Indeed it is, Mr Gresham,’ the lawyer answered him lightly. ‘In fact, it’s dated only two months before your father’s death.’

Rufus’s uneasiness about the contents of his father’s will increased.

Of course, that uneasiness could have something to do with the fact that Toby, his disreputable cousin and a constant sponge on James’s good will until uncle and nephew had fallen out about three months ago, was also here.

And Gabriella…

He had rarely seen her the last five years, Gabriella having lived and trained as a chef in France for three years after that…incident…in Majorca, and their paths had rarely crossed since she came back to England to live two years ago.

But whenever they had chanced to meet, he had been very aware of the burning intensity of her dislike.

Those five years had done nothing to lessen her beauty, he noted clinically as he looked at her between narrowed lids. In fact if anything she was even more beautiful, none of that youthful eagerness in her face now as she sensed his gaze on her and turned to look at him challengingly.

Her hair was still that gloriously wild cascade of ebony curls loose down her back, but her slenderness was now of almost model-like proportions, her face thinner, too, making those violet-coloured eyes look bigger, her cheeks slightly hollow, her chin more pointed, with only the full, sensual pout of her lips remaining the same.

And he remembered every silken inch of that delectable body, now hidden beneath fitted black trousers and a red gypsy-style blouse that emphasized the fullness of her breasts.

His mouth curled self-derisively as he turned away abruptly, not wanting to dwell on memories of how it had felt to touch her there.

Gabriella saw that scorn on Rufus’s face before he turned his attention back to the lawyer, easily able to guess the reason for it. Rufus still believed her to be nothing but a money-grasping little witch.

‘Now we come to the reason I asked to speak to you all today,’ the lawyer continued briskly. ‘Mr Gresham was most specific that I speak to the three of you alone concerning this matter. I’m sure that once I have explained the contents of the will to all of you it will become clear as to the reason why he made that request,’ he added ruefully.

Gabriella felt her stomach muscles clench, filled with a terrible premonition.

David Brewster nodded briskly. ‘You may read the will for yourselves, but the main provisions are as follows: To his two children, namely Rufus James Gresham and Gabriella Maria Lucia Benito, Mr Gresham leaves the bulk of his estate—some fifty million pounds at the time the will was made—’

‘Will you marry me, Gabriella?’ Toby put in facetiously.

Gabriella didn’t even qualify the question with an answer, Toby knowing of the complete loathing she felt towards him after he had tried to force himself on her three months ago.

Besides, she was too stunned to do any more than stare disbelievingly at David Brewster!

‘If I might continue…?’The lawyer gave Toby a disapproving look above those half-moon glasses. ‘All properties, overseas and in England, are to be equally divided between the above-named children, with the exception of the family-owned stores of Gresham’s both in England and New York which are to become the property of Rufus James Gresham, at the end of six months, provided that Rufus and Gabriella have lived together in Gresham House for the duration of that time as husband and wife. Those monies and said properties, and all monies owing, will become forfeit to Mr Gresham’s nephew, Tobias John Reed, if this above condition is not met—Did you say something, Miss Benito?’ the lawyer asked kindly.

Had she groaned out loud? If she had, she hadn’t meant to, aware that both Rufus and Toby were now looking at her curiously, too. ‘No, nothing,’ she quietly assured the elderly lawyer.

But she inwardly cringed, knowing exactly what James meant by ‘all monies owing’.

Shortly after her mother’s death a year ago Gabriella had attained a bank loan with which to open up her own restaurant, something she had always wanted to do. She had finally felt that she had enough experience to do it, but from the start everything had gone disastrously wrong.

The builder making the alterations on the property she had leased for a year had run way over budget, and then downed tools until she paid up.

There had been a fire in the kitchen prior to opening night meaning that she’d had to hastily—and expensively—bring in new appliances.

And then two months after opening an employee had swindled a customer out of five thousand pounds on their credit card. The customer had refused to be compensated and had sued instead, with the case being reported in all the newspapers, totally tarnishing the reputation of Benito’s and closing her down within a month because there had been simply no customers for her to cook for.

All of which had left her with a thirty-thousand-pound loan from the bank, and only the wages from the job she had managed to secure as assistant chef in someone else’s bistro with which to pay it.

James had stepped into the breach and rescued her from sure disaster. But only, at Gabriella’s insistence, on the condition that they had a legal contract between them that she would eventually pay the money back to him.

A legal contract stating exactly what ‘monies’ were ‘owing’…

And if she didn’t live with Rufus as his wife for six months she would owe that money to Toby, of all people. A man she despised even more than she did Rufus.

She glanced across at Rufus beneath lowered lashes, knowing by the expression on that arrogantly handsome face that he definitely hadn’t missed her pained groan. And wondered at the reason for it…

Although that emotion was eclipsed by the glittering anger he now directed at her.

‘Did you know about this?’ he demanded coldly, standing up in restless movements.

Gabriella blinked at his attack, her face very pale, and her violet-coloured eyes so dark they were purple smudges in the pallor. ‘I should have guessed you would somehow blame me,’ she gasped.

‘Who else can I blame?’ he came back scathingly. ‘My father is beyond recrimination. Leaving you as the only one left with anything to gain by this!’ His hands were clenched at his sides.

Never, in all his wildest imaginings, had he believed his father could do something so—so incredibly destructive!

Gabriella gave a hard, humourless laugh. ‘You don’t seriously think I would ever choose to marry you, Rufus!’

Rufus continued to breathe deeply for several long seconds, striving for some sort of control, aware of where they were, of their audience, Toby avidly enjoying the altercation, David Brewster obviously disturbed by it.

And, no, he didn’t suppose Gabriella would choose to marry him. Not any more. Not after the way he had deliberately humiliated her in Majorca five years ago.

Deliberately.

Because he never had been as immune to this exotically beautiful woman as he gave the outward impression he was. And her response to him had been mind-blowing, more so than anything he had known before, or since.

But he was always very aware that Gabriella was Heather Benito’s daughter, the child of the woman who had taken money from his father before the two of them were even married, and not a small amount, either.

But his father had been so besotted with his second wife, so blind to anything but the fact that he loved Heather, that he had been totally devastated when she had died, to the point that he had almost seemed to cease to function.

Except, it seemed, to write this incredible clause in his will tying Rufus to Gabriella for six months. As her husband, for God’s sake!

He turned to look at her scathingly. ‘Oh, come on, Gabriella,’ he taunted. ‘We both know to what lengths you’re willing to go if you consider the prize big enough!’

Her violet-coloured eyes seemed to burst into flames at his implication. ‘You absolute bast—’

‘Poor Gabriella,’ he scorned. ‘Couldn’t you have come up with something more original than that in the last five years?’

Her nostrils flared. ‘Why bother, when the description fits you so perfectly?’

‘Oh, dear.’ David Brewster’s mild, slightly flustered voice broke into the stormy scene before Rufus could come back with his own cutting reply. ‘It would seem that Mr Gresham may have made an error in judgement concerning his wishes for the two of you.’

‘Not at all,’ Rufus assured the older man grimly. ‘My father was fully aware of the—enmity, that exists between Gabriella and myself.’

And James, Rufus knew, had always been deeply saddened at the obviously strained relationship between the two of them.

His father had also advised Rufus numerous times that he ought to remarry, if only to give his now seven-year-old over-indulged daughter a stepmother. A suggestion that Rufus had told him he had no intention of complying with after his experience with Angela.

But James, it seemed, had decided to try and rectify both these situations, after his death, by making this ridiculous condition about Rufus and Gabriella marrying each other in order for them to gain their inheritance.

With the forfeit that Toby would inherit everything instead if they didn’t!

Something that James had known that Rufus wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow to happen. James had held no illusions about the irresponsible Toby, either, and had known that he would ruin Gresham’s in a year and have squandered the money away not long after!

The money wasn’t important, because Rufus had enough money of his own without needing any of his father’s, and the properties in Surrey, Aspen, Majorca and the Bahamas weren’t important to him, either. But the two Gresham’s stores were different. He had put everything he had into those two stores the last six years, made them more successful than ever, and he refused to let a total wastrel like his cousin Toby just walk in and ruin them.

To the point where he would be willing to marry and live with Gabriella, even for six months, in order to keep them? To live in close proximity with her, day after day, for her to become his wife—something he’d sworn he would never have again! Was he willing to do that…?

‘I really had no idea.’ The lawyer looked at them frowningly. ‘I must admit I thought it rather strange. Nothing I said would deter Mr Gresham from making these particular arrangements in his will, I’m afraid.’ He shook his head sadly.

But why wouldn’t it? Gabriella questioned, incredulous. What on earth had James hoped to achieve by making such an unacceptable clause in his will?

Because it was unacceptable to both Rufus and Gabriella. As poor David Brewster had just been made a witness to!

Although Rufus now looked self-disgusted that the outburst had been made at all. He was a man who preferred to keep his emotions under control, Gabriella knew. Only she, it seemed, and the prospect of having to marry her, had the power to make him forget that normally cool reserve!

‘There has to be some way out of this.’ She looked at the lawyer beseechingly.

‘I’m afraid not, Miss Benito.’ He grimaced. ‘I drew Mr Gresham’s will up myself, and I can assure you there is no get-out clause, no room for manoeuvre—’

‘No two hundred pounds when you pass go,’ Toby put in dryly, obviously enjoying this situation immensely.

But then, he would. To by enjoyed nothing more than dissension and disharmony—even more so if he was the cause of it!

As he had been three months ago…

Which was the reason that forfeit to Toby didn’t make any sense to Gabriella. James had been furious with his nephew before he’d died, and wouldn’t even have him in the house after what he had tried to do to Gabriella. He certainly wouldn’t want Toby to inherit the Gresham’s stores, the money, or property.

So why had James put such an ironclad clause in his will…?

Because he had known neither Rufus or Gabriella would want Toby to inherit the Gresham’s stores, the money or property!

But he also knew that Rufus and Gabriella didn’t like each other.

He knew it, but hadn’t been happy about it, as he would rather they had all been one big happy family. It was what he had always wanted.

Enough to force Rufus and Gabriella into marrying each other?

A move guaranteed to increase their dislike of each other rather than nullify it!

‘What’s the matter, Gabriella?’ Rufus taunted softly. ‘Is marriage to me no longer part of your plans?’

It had never been the plan he was implying it was. She had fallen in love with him six years ago, had loved him five years ago, had thought their being together that day in Majorca had meant that he was in love with her, too. A futile hope, as he had so cruelly pointed out!

Her chin rose to meet his challenge. ‘No more than marriage to me has ever been in yours!’

‘Not at all, then,’ he drawled dismissively.

‘Exactly,’ she was stung into snapping.

‘Isn’t this fun?’ Toby said to no one in particular. ‘Of course, the two of you could just save yourself the trouble of even trying to live together—an exercise obviously doomed to failure before you begin!—and just hand all that lovely loot over to me right now!’

‘Miss Benito and Mr Gresham have a week in which to come to their decision,’ David Brewster put in firmly before either Rufus or Gabriella could make a reply.

‘Oh, I think I can wait a week.’ Toby nodded, totally unperturbed by the animosity surrounding him as he grinned happily.

‘There is one other stipulation in Mr Gresham’s will that I think you should both be made aware of before coming to that decision.’ The lawyer had obviously decided to ignore Toby’s comments.

‘Let’s hear it,’ Rufus muttered wearily.

‘The two Gresham’s stores will, as already stated, at the end of the stipulated six months of marriage become the sole property of my son Rufus James Gresham, but the restaurant within the Gresham’s store in London is to be refurbished, renamed Gabriella’s, and opened to the public as such and leased in perpetuity to Gabriella Maria Lucia Benito, then to be named Gabriella Gresham.’

Rufus drew in a sharp breath. ‘In other words, my father isn’t just expecting me to marry and live with Gabriella for six months, he’s expecting me to work with her, too? Indefinitely!’ He spoke with icy control, determined not to give way a second time to the impotent fury he felt, although he could feel a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw.

‘That is so, yes,’ David Brewster confirmed ruefully.

‘Could I just point out that he’s expecting me to live and work with you, too?’ an obviously agitated Gabriella put in forcefully.

She hadn’t expected that clause in his father’s will, either, Rufus acknowledged cynically. She had probably expected to just be able to walk away with her share.

He certainly hadn’t missed her involuntary reaction to the mention of ‘monies owing’ in his father’s will. Surely his father hadn’t been stupid enough to lend Gabriella money? Money that he must have known would never be repaid?

Rufus looked across at her with cold green eyes, totally unmoved by the pallor in her cheeks. ‘I already run Gresham’s, already own my own home, already have my own fortune—which one of us stands to gain more here, do you think?’

‘You see?’ Toby put in again mildly. ‘Not a hope in hell of the two of you living together for six months without killing each other! Although,’ he added consideringly, ‘as that would probably mean that I still inherit—’

‘I really don’t think those sorts of comments are of any help to this situation whatsoever, Mr Reed,’ the lawyer rebuked, obviously having reached the end of his patience. ‘I suggest that we meet back here one week from today, at the same time, Miss Benito and Mr Gresham,’ the lawyer continued crisply. ‘Then the two of you can give me your answer. Your presence will not be needed at that time, Mr Reed,’ he added disapprovingly.

They could form a club, Rufus mused hardly.

‘There’s nothing else in my father’s will, no more hidden conditions or clauses,’ he prompted hardly, ‘that we should be made aware of, is there, before reaching that decision?’

David Brewster met his gaze steadily, seeming to hesitate briefly before answering him. ‘No, I can assure you there is nothing further in Mr Gresham’s will that concerns any of you,’ he said evenly.

‘How about the three of us go out to lunch together to talk about this?’ Toby suggested brightly as he stood up to leave.

Gabriella knew that any food she tried to eat right now would probably choke her. And just the thought of having lunch with Toby, a man she totally loathed after he had tried to force her into making love with him, made her feel nauseous.

‘I think not,’ Rufus was the one to answer sharply, surprising Gabriella by taking a steely hold of her arm. ‘Gabriella and I obviously have a few things we need to talk about, but, as David has already pointed out, your part in these proceedings is over, Toby,’ he added pointedly.

Gabriella looked up at him frowningly. She didn’t want to go anywhere with Rufus, either. As for his fingers tightly clasped about her arm…!

Her chin was once again raised determinedly as she tried to break that steely grip. And failed.

Something that made Toby give another unconcerned grin. ‘Just let me know when the two of you decide not to get married.’

Married.

The word echoed inside Gabriella’s head.

To Rufus.

Just putting the words together—’married’ and ‘to Rufus’—was enough to send a shiver of alarm down her spine.

But she hadn’t always thought so; she would once have been overjoyed at the thought of being Rufus’s wife.

Before she’d learnt to hate him.

Before she’d known how much he hated her.

Toby was right; she and Rufus didn’t stand a chance of succeeding in living together as husband and wife for six months!

CHAPTER TWO

RUFUS was aware of Gabriella’s efforts to shake off his hold on her arm as they left David Brewster’s office. A move he had no intention of letting her succeed in making. The two of them needed to talk. Today. Now.

‘Goodbye, Toby,’ he told the younger man pointedly once they were all outside on the street.

‘Don’t call us we’ll call you?’ his cousin came back tauntingly.

Rufus’s mouth tightened. He and Toby had never been particularly close, and he knew that James had only tolerated him because he was the son of his only sister. A tolerance that for some reason had come to an abrupt end three months ago.

‘Don’t hold your breath,’ he advised dryly.

Toby gave a derisive laugh. ‘Oh, I’ll hear from you,’ he said with certainty. ‘Or Brewster. It really doesn’t matter which.’ He shrugged. ‘The result will be the same.’ He grinned confidently.

‘Has it ever occurred to you, Toby, that Rufus and I may just both dislike you more than we dislike each other?’ Gabriella felt stung into replying.

Toby gave her a considering look from insolent blue eyes. ‘No,’ he finally answered with a mocking smile.

A smile Gabriella would dearly love to slap off his good-looking face!

Her loathing for this man welled uncontrollably. ‘Then if I were you, I would start thinking about it,’ she advised hardly.

He gave an unconcerned shrug. ‘Even if the two of you decide to try this bogus marriage idea, it will never last.’

‘We only have to live together for six months,’ Gabriella reminded him challengingly.

Toby gave a confident shake of his head. ‘I don’t think the two of you could spend six hours living in the same house together, let alone six months!’

The fact that he was right only made her angrier. ‘You might be surprised!’ she snapped, eyes glittering.

‘Somehow I doubt it,’ Toby dismissed in a bored voice. ‘Goodbye, then, Rufus. Ciao, Gabriella,’ he added tauntingly before turning to saunter off down the street.

‘I was always under the impression that you and Toby liked each other,’ Rufus prompted, his gaze narrowed speculatively.

Gabriella looked up at him. ‘Impressions can sometimes be deceptive,’ she told him huskily, dark lashes sweeping low over creamy cheeks as she hid her thoughts from him.

Not where this woman was concerned, Rufus told himself firmly. She was her mother’s daughter, and he had better not ever forget that fact.

His mouth twisted mockingly. ‘So is it true that you dislike Toby even more than you dislike me?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she assured him vehemently.

That had never been Rufus’s impression before today, he thought. Gabriella and Toby always seemed to have gravitated to each other in the past whenever there had been any sort of family function. So what had happened to change that?

And did it have anything to do with the fact that his father had also banned Toby from the house three months ago? he wondered shrewdly.

‘We need to talk,’ he told Gabriella grimly. ‘My car is parked—’

‘I’m not going anywhere with you,’ she instantly protested, taking a step back, forcing Rufus into releasing her this time.

He frowned darkly. ‘You know, Gabriella, if we carry on like this then Toby is right—we might just as well hand everything over to him right now!’

Gabriella’s eyes widened. He couldn’t seriously be thinking about going through with this, could he? With marrying her?

Only with a gun held at his head, she conceded ruefully.

Which was pretty much what James was doing!

‘Did I say something amusing, Gabriella?’ Rufus snapped as he obviously saw her rueful smile.

No, she acknowledged heavily, her moment of humour over; if anything the joke was on her!

‘Not particularly, no,’ she sighed. ‘But I can’t see how the two of us going somewhere to talk is going to make any difference to the fact that we don’t want to marry each other.’

‘Surely that depends on how we decide to talk?’ Rufus came back challengingly.

Gabriella gave him a narrow-eyed glance. The last five years had made Rufus harder and more cynical, the lines of that cynisism etched beside his eyes and mouth, the dark blond hair shorter and the muscled length of his body leaner, but Rufus was still the most breathtakingly handsome man she had ever met.

Nerve-tinglingly so if the way she could still feel his hand on her arm was anything to go by.

An attraction that appeared not to have diminished over the years as she had thought…!

Rufus met her startled gaze, knowing as he did so that he hadn’t forgotten a single thing about touching her so intimately five years ago. Or the feel of her slender hands as she had caressed him…

He had been lost the moment he had touched her slender curves, unable to stop touching her until he had taken her over the edge of pleasure, watching her as he had done so, the heat in his own body longing for that same release.

But it was a release he had denied himself, knowing that he couldn’t—daren’t!—lose himself in her silken warmth, that to do so would be to enter a madness he wouldn’t be able to withdraw from.

As he also knew now, every particle of him alive to Gabriella’s sensual beauty, that a part of him had continued to want her ever since…

‘If you’re suggesting what I think you are, then forget it!’ Gabriella glared up at him accusingly, her cheeks suffused with colour.

From anger? he wondered. Or something else…?

‘Pity,’ he drawled mockingly. ‘It might have been—interesting, talking over old times.’

‘We don’t have any “old times” to talk about,’ she assured him determinedly.

‘No.’ He gave a derisive smile. ‘What we have to talk about is the future,’ he added hardly. ‘And we do need to do that, Gabriella,’ he said firmly as she would have protested. ‘Perhaps come to some sort of—compromise,’ he added grimly.

Compromise had never been a word he had associated with thoughts of Gabriella—it was either all or nothing. And until today he had chosen nothing.

Why had his father put that clause in his will?

What possible good could come from forcing the two of them into living as husband and wife, even for six months?

But his father wasn’t here to answer those questions, which only left the two of them to find those answers for themselves.

‘Compromise…?’ Gabriella echoed warily.

She obviously hadn’t associated that word with him before, either, Rufus acknowledged ruefully. But it was something they were going to have to find if they weren’t both to lose everything. And he didn’t seriously believe Gabriella was willing to lose twenty-five million pounds just because she wasn’t willing to marry him and live with him for six months to get it!

His mouth twisted derisively as a couple holding hands, obviously deeply in love if the way they gazed into each other’s eyes was anything to go by, stepped around them as they stood in the middle of the pavement. ‘I really think you’re going to have to come back to Gresham’s with me, Gabriella, because I have no intention of continuing this conversation in the middle of a public street.’

Gresham’s? Gabriella frowned. Why on earth did Rufus want to take her to Gresham’s?

She hadn’t been in the store since before she had moved to France as she’d been very aware of the fact that Rufus had his office on the sixth floor, and could walk onto one of the shop floors at any given moment. She hadn’t wanted to risk even the slightest chance of accidentally bumping into him.

‘I have something I would like to show you,’ he added throatily.

‘Really?’ she came back sceptically.

He nodded. ‘I think you might be impressed.’

Her gaze narrowed at his deliberate provocation. ‘I wasn’t last time,’ she came back tartly.

‘No?’ He raised mocking dark blond brows. ‘That’s not the way I remember it.’

She very much doubted that Rufus remembered their time together in Majorca at all, knowing from James’s worried conversations over the years that Rufus had been involved with numerous women since his divorce six years ago. None of those relationships had been of any duration, but she was sure they certainly made his brief encounter with an overeager eighteen-year-old completely forgettable.

She gave him a saccharin-sweet smile. ‘I believe it’s called selective memory!’

‘Maybe. But which one of us is being selective?’ he came back mockingly.

She should know by now not to engage in verbal confrontation with Rufus. He was just too cynical, too much in control, for her to ever be able to win.

Rufus gave an impatient sigh, this sparring with Gabriella achieving nothing but heightening his awareness of her. Something he could quite well do without at the moment.

‘I actually thought you might want to take a look at what is going to become Gabriella’s,’ he bit out harshly, the thought of Gabriella working in the restaurant, two floors down from his own office, not exactly conducive to a calm working environment.

In fact, none of the simpler emotions came to mind when he thought of Gabriella!

Her eyes widened. ‘You aren’t seriously thinking of complying with the conditions in your father’s will?’

‘Aren’t you?’he came back derisively, Gabriella not resisting this time as he took a light hold of her arm in order to cross the road to where his car was parked.

Rufus was absolutely positive that there was no way this woman would give up the chance to get her hands on that twenty-five million pounds. She was just playing hard to get, or perhaps she thought she could make a separate deal with him, knowing the money wasn’t what he was interested in.

His mouth twisted with distaste as he unlocked the Mercedes for them to get into, deliberately not touching Gabriella again as he moved round to get in behind the wheel.

Was she thinking of marrying him? Gabriella wondered with a frown as she sat in the car next to Rufus, both of them silent as he drove to Gresham’s.

Her immediate answer was no.

A more considered answer was maybe.

Being married to Rufus was the very last thing she wanted, but the alternative was that Toby inherited everything, including her thirty-thousand-pound debt. A debt she couldn’t repay, and Toby, being the warped individual that he was, would probably demand repayment for it in a way that was totally unacceptable to her.

More unacceptable than marrying Rufus?

Most definitely.

‘Having second thoughts?’ Rufus taunted at her lengthy silence.

And third, and fourth, ones!

She didn’t doubt for a moment that being married to Rufus, even short term, would be a living nightmare. She knew that he would take every opportunity he could to make her life a misery, and would naturally assume her compliance meant she only wanted to inherit her half of the fifty million pounds.

But the alternative to that loveless marriage was being indebted to Toby.

At least the nightmare of being married to Rufus would have an end.

‘I’m—thinking, about it,’ she admitted huskily.

‘I thought you might,’ Rufus came back bitterly.

‘Not for the reason you’re thinking,’ she snapped impatiently.

‘No?’ He quirked dark blond brows.

Gabriella didn’t even bother to try and defend herself. What was the point? Rufus enjoyed thinking the worst of her, so why disillusion him? Even if she could!

Gabriella had forgotten how good it felt to enter Gresham’s, as the doorman in his black uniform jumped to attention to open the door for them as soon as he recognized Rufus. Entering the huge store was to be assailed by exotic smells and sights; it was a feast for the senses, with hundreds of customers being efficiently and warmly served by the dozens of sales staff with items from the food hall to exclusive handbags, to furniture, glasswear, and even a grand piano. Gabriella’s eyes glowed with pleasure as she and Rufus walked through the store to the private lift on one side of the ground floor.

For a few minutes, thinking only of the possibilities of opening up a restaurant in this exclusive store, she had totally forgotten the reason she and Rufus were here!

‘You don’t need me to tell you what an excellent store this is, or how well you run it,’ she bit out dismissively.

Rufus eyed her speculatively. ‘I was always surprised by your own choice of career…’ he murmured questioningly.

She stiffened defensively. ‘Why?’

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Obviously a restaurant in Gresham’s would only be open the same hours as the store, but usually restaurant work involves long, unsociable hours.’

Gabriella still eyed him challengingly. ‘Your point being?’

His point being that it seemed a career too much like hard work for a woman who had always had her eye on attaining a rich husband…

But maybe she really had thought the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach…?

He could have told her years ago that it was usually another part of a man’s anatomy that governed his decisions!

Whatever. If they went through with this, after six months Gabriella would no longer have any need for a husband, rich or otherwise.

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘You’ll have to cook a meal for me some time,’ he said dryly.

Gabriella eyed him impatiently. ‘You would be taking a risk—I might be tempted to add arsenic to it!’

‘Oh, I’d make you eat some first,’ he assured her as they stepped out of the lift onto the fourth floor.

Gabriella gave what was obviously a totally impulsive laugh, her violet eyes glowing, her teeth white and even against the fullness of her lips.

Rufus found himself fascinated by that smile, and stared down at her with hungry eyes.

The laugh caught at the back of Gabriella’s throat as she saw the way Rufus was looking at her. Almost as if it were her he would like to eat!

But she must have been mistaken, she decided as that cynicism hardened his face once more, green eyes pale and assessing now as he returned her gaze challengingly.

‘Rufus, what—?’She broke off as she realized where he had brought her, her eyes widening and pulse leaping as she looked excitedly round the huge restaurant area on the fourth floor.

A restaurant that, if she agreed to marry Rufus, would become hers. Hers to keep even when the marriage was over.

The restaurant was at the front of the store, taking up half the fourth floor, totally separate from the book and magazine department that took up the rest of the floor space. At the moment it was being run more as a self-service cafeteria, but the possibilities for it becoming an exclusive lunch-time restaurant, as well as a place for morning coffee and afternoon tea, were endless. Gabriella was already able to envisage the changes she would make to the décor, like taking away some of the tables and replacing the utilitarian chairs with more comfortable upright armchairs.

It would become somewhere to relax and enjoy a leisurely lunch that Gabriella would make from totally fresh ingredients—

It could only become that if she agreed to marry Rufus!

‘Let’s go up to my office and finish discussing this, Gabriella,’ he said briskly, once again taking a firm hold of her arm.

Finish discussing it? She wasn’t aware that they had started!

Gabriella was familiar with the executive offices on the sixth floor, and indeed the chairman’s—Rufus’s—plush office, having visited her mother there very occasionally over the period she had worked as James’s secretary.

God, that seemed a lifetime ago!

Which, in fact, it was in a way—with her mother and James both gone now, and only Rufus left to torment her.

She didn’t recognize the secretary behind the desk in the outer office—but then, why should she?—a tall, shapely blonde who turned to smile warmly at Rufus as the two of them entered the room, and Gabriella gave Rufus a speculative look.

His fingers tightened painfully on her arm as he all but dragged her into the inner office to shut the door firmly behind them. ‘I would never make the same mistake my father did,’ he assured her coldly as he released her so suddenly Gabriella almost lost her balance.

Never fall in love with his secretary, Gabriella knew he meant. Certainly never marry her.

‘They were happy together, Rufus,’ she defended impatiently. ‘Couldn’t you see that? Feel that when you were with them?’

Oh, yes, he had seen his father’s happiness with Heather, and knew that losing her had probably killed him. But he believed his father had been blinded by love and had never allowed himself to get close enough to Heather to hear her side of the story, truthful or not.

Heather had certainly tried to get closer to him over the years, but only for his father’s sake, Rufus felt sure.

Anyway, Rufus had totally resisted Heather’s friendship for his own sake as much as anything else.

Heather and Gabriella, despite Gabriella’s years in France, had continued to be close, and if Rufus had lowered his guard towards Heather then he would have been lowering it towards Gabriella, too. And that was something he had no intention of doing.

Either then.

Or now.

He might be being forced into marrying Gabriella if he wanted to keep Gresham’s, but that didn’t mean he had to like it!

‘Did you ever take my advice?’ he prompted dryly.

Gabriella frowned her puzzlement at this sudden change of subject, not sure what advice he was talking about.

Rufus’s mouth twisted mockingly as he enlightened her. ‘Did you ever ask your mother why, six years ago, she needed a hundred thousand pounds?’

Gabriella froze at the taunt, knowing Rufus had done this deliberately, and that he intended to hurt.

Her chin rose challengingly. ‘Yes, I did.’

‘And?’ he prompted impatiently.

And she had promised her mother she would never tell anyone else about it. James had known, of course, because Heather had told him all about her first husband’s gambling, and the debts he had left behind for his widow and young daughter. But Heather had wanted to keep that particular skeleton of the Benito family in the closet where it belonged.

‘And it’s none of your damned business!’ Gabriella told Rufus with hard dismissal, having no more intention of sharing that secret with him than her mother had.

‘Right,’ he accepted scornfully. ‘So how much did you owe my father when he died, Gabriella? More, or less, than he gave to your mother all those years ago?’

This time she felt the colour drain from her cheeks.

So Rufus hadn’t missed her completely instinctive response in David Brewster’s office as he covered that part of his father’s will. Or failed to guess the reason for it.

But she should have known that he wouldn’t. Rufus was too astute, too intelligent, to fail to guess the cause of her dismayed groan.

‘Less,’ she sighed, knowing there was no point in prevaricating, Rufus only had to ask David Brewster the same question for the lawyer to produce the contract that Gabriella and James had signed over a year ago. ‘Much less.’

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