Daniel's Bride (4 page)

“So Mel,” he said as they joined in the stream moving away
from the sports ground, “what did you think of the game?”

Daniel hit the incline on the treadmill, and ran harder.
Faster. Within a minute his breath was ragged, but he didn’t let up on the
gruelling pace.

On the treadmill alongside, Hugh walked at a more sedate
pace. They were both silent, both lost in thoughts, the only other sound coming
from the rowing machine the head of HR was using as she rowed her lungs out.
Daniel had dated her twice then broken it off, keeping it strictly business. It
had not been difficult. Work and pleasure did not mix which pretty much meant
that pleasure took second place to anything. Work ruled. Always had, always
would.

His mind shifted suddenly to Melinda Green. In the days
since the rugby game, he’d thought about her, especially in those moments when
thinking about the mess his grandfather was in proved too much. Last night he’d
thought about her a lot, and it had nothing to do with midnight sweats. Sure,
he’d avoided thinking about the fact that when their legs had touched at the
rugby game he’d felt a zing shoot up his thigh that had shocked him. Outwardly,
there was nothing about her that would send a man’s pulse through the roof. But
there had been something in that moment. Clearly an aberration.

He lowered the incline, reached for his water bottle, and
slowed his pace. He needed to talk to Hugh. He slowed even further as his heart
rate began to come down and he finally said, “What did you think of Mel Green?”
He slugged back more water, waited for Hugh.

“Melinda?” Hugh pulled the towel from around his neck.
“Melinda was a delight. Charming, smart, funny. Dedicated to her elderly
mother.” He gave a chuckle as he slowed his treadmill right down. “I like that
about a person.”

Daniel had to admit he did too.

He capped his bottle, continued walking at a slow pace as
Hugh stepped off his machine. Daniel said, “I saw grandfather last night.”

“And?” Hugh gave a half-hearted attempt at stretching.

Daniel wiped sweat from his brow. “Remember Angela Vella? I
went on a few dates with her last September.”

Hugh shook his head. “I try not to take an interest in your
personal life because the lack of it depresses both me and your grandfather.”

Daniel draped his towel around his neck. “Funny you say that.
Grandfather thinks I’m involved with her.”

“Why would he think that?” Hugh reached for an energy drink,
pulled the tab.

“Because I haven’t told him otherwise.”

Hugh frowned. “You said you dated this woman in September. It’s
now April. You better set him straight or he’ll think an engagement is
imminent.”

Daniel switched off the treadmill. “He does. He asked me
when I was going to make an honest woman of her.”

Hugh shot him a glance. “What did you tell him?”

“I told him he’d be the first to know.” He wiped his face.
“And that he wouldn’t have long to wait.”

Hugh went still. “Just so I have this straight. You dated a
woman twice. Arthur believes you’re still dating. Which with your record means
it’s serious. And then you tell him wedding bells are just around the corner?”

“Yes.” Daniel stretched his legs, eased slowly and held.
Pushed it further. Punishment.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell him the truth?”

“The same reason we didn’t tell him about Sean and Everett.
His health is failing. I didn’t – I don’t - want to upset him.”

Hugh looked as if he were about to explode. “What were you
thinking?”

Daniel stretched his other leg.
What was he thinking?
That he wanted his grandfather to think one of his grandsons wasn’t a complete
failure. That he could make up for the mess he’d made with his brothers, and
the broken promises.

“I haven’t actually told Arthur I’m getting married. Not in
so many words.”

“You call what you just told me, ‘so many words’?”

They collected their towels, walked through the gym to the
changing room and Hugh spluttered, “What you just did was lie.”

“What I did was see a smile on my grandfather’s face.”

“That will wear out pretty soon when you can’t keep this
charade up. Unless you intend getting this Angela on the phone and putting the
question to her.”

“I won’t be doing that.”

They entered the changing room. It was empty and Hugh said,
“As I see it, you have to come clean because you will never be able to keep up
this charade. You have to tell him the relationship ended.”

“Or find an alternative solution. And there is one option.”

Hugh frowned, rubbed his chin. “The only other solution as I
see it is to find yourself a wife.”

Daniel’s gut churned. That was the decision he’d come to at
four o’clock this morning, absurd as it was. He couldn’t bear to see more
disappointment on his grandfather’s face if he told him the truth. Arthur
believed in love that lasted, had known it with his wife – believed in it with
a passion. Man was meant to be with woman. The fact all his children and
grandchildren had failed in that area had disappointed him more than he had
ever been able to express.

“I have a plan,” Daniel said.

Hugh stared at him with an intensity that had sent
opposition lawyers cringing.

“What plan?”

“I fake a marriage.”

Hugh frowned. “Not only is that objectionable but why on
earth would a woman you dumped be interested?’

“Not Angela. I’m thinking about…” This was the crazy part.
This was the bit that had taken over his thoughts the past twenty-four hours.
“I’m thinking of Mel Green.”

Hugh’s bushy white eyebrows shot up. “Melinda Green?”

“We offer her a temporary job first. Get her in the building
so we can observe her, and we’ll have enough information in forty-eight hours
to make a judgement call on her. If she agrees, we go to a second deal. If she
says yes, we marry. We keep it low key. Very low key. I don’t want the media
getting hold of this. Then, when my grandfather…” He cleared his throat. It was
going to happen. Sir Arthur was eighty-three and in shocking health, and he was
not going to get well. “When he isn’t around to witness the mess I’ve made, we
divorce.”

“You’re doing this to spare your grandfather’s feelings? I’m
not sure whether that’s mad or honorable.”

It was both. “From what Mel let slip the other night, I
believe there’s the possibility she’d be amenable to an agreement. On the
surface, she stacks up. She has an education and I doubt she harbors any secret
agendas. And I’m sure you read between the lines.” Mel had spoken about losing
her job and having to leave her flat. She was in trouble. “She’s flat broke and
she’s worried about it. She needs money.” And he knew from experience that
everyone had a price. Some, for totally dishonorable reasons. He pushed what
little he remembered about his mother aside. Mel, at least, appeared to have
honorable reasons for considering a cash sum. Survival.

Hugh was silent, then he raked his hand through his hair.
“That’s your plan?”

“In a nutshell.”

“It’s ludicrous.”

“I never said it wasn’t.”

“I can honestly say I’ve heard it all now.” Hugh shrugged.
“Okay. Okay. I understand why you want do this. But the fact is…” He phrased
his words carefully. “Arthur’s health is…” He exhaled long and slow. “What I’m
trying to say is that you might not even need to… It could be a waste of time,
Dan.”

Sir Arthur could die in the next few weeks and this could be
an unnecessary waste of time. But he could also live longer, he could find a
treatment that worked, defy the odds. Money was no object with the Christies.

“I know what you’re saying, Hugh, but I choose to think more
optimistically about his health. And I want to do this.” No, he
needed
to do this. He needed to feel he had achieved something that would make his
grandfather’s last days happy. Even if it was by pure deception, even if it was
the ends that justified the means.

It would be the only time in his thirty five years he had
ever believed that.

“Okay.” Hugh nodded. “You marry a stranger. You keep Arthur
happy. And I’ve no doubt it’ll take his mind off your brothers.”

“Plan A it is,” Daniel agreed. There was a sick feeling in
his stomach. He ignored it.

“And Plan B?” Hugh prompted.

Daniel didn’t move a muscle. “There is no Plan B.”

Mel began to bite the top of her finger nail, realised what
she was doing, and clutched the folder with her resume instead. She’d never
been a nail biter. She’d sat in her office with nail biting school kids, kids
who had the weight of the world on their slender shoulders, kids who couldn’t
seem to see a future ahead of them, but she had never, ever bitten her own.

But then, how often were you sitting in the plush office of
one of the most eligible bachelors in Sydney? How often was the man in question
just a few feet away from you, exuding a degree of power and sex you only saw
in the pages of GQ? All her adult life she had counseled teenagers in suburban
high schools with suburban budgets. This was as unreal as it got, and she was
going to be working for him over the next two days. Sure, it was only
temporary, but it was a start. It was a job.

Daniel stood in profile, his phone against one ear, as he
looked out over the Sydney skyline. He’d been on the phone when his PA Nora had
showed her in. He’d acknowledged her with a bare wave and had resumed his
conversation in low tones. Finally, he disconnected the call, a frown heavy on
his face as he stalked to the desk.

It was on the tip of her tongue to ask if anything was
wrong, but from the way he snapped the phone back in the cradle, it was a
redundant question. Things undoubtedly went wrong all the time in his
billionaire world, and were sorted out expediently.

He came around, sat on the edge of the desk, and folded his
arms across his chest. The fabric of his tailored suit barely creased, and she
swallowed hard on a dry-as-sand throat. That was another thing. She’d been
unprepared for just how – rich – he looked, and it was intimidating. She’d seen
him in casual pants and a shirt, and later in jeans and a tee. Now he was in a
black suit, with a striped shirt, a blue and gray tie, and his dark hair
smoothed back over his perfectly shaped head, hair that grazed below the edge
of his shirt collar. She’d always considered that look to be manufactured and a
little sleazy, but on him it looked as if it were meant to be. As if he were
the only person on the planet who could possibly look that comfortable.

“Right on time,” he said finally. For a second the
frustration in his blue eyes lifted and he mused, “I like punctuality.”

He sounded different. His voice was deeper, throatier. More
dangerous. A tingle of warning trickled down her spine and suddenly she felt
completely out of her depth. This wasn’t her. This office, this view. She
should leave now. Try for a job as a check-out operator instead.

“What do you have there?” He gestured to her white knuckled
hands clutching the folder.

“My resume. For you.”

He reached out and took it, the movement wafting his cologne
to her. A woodsy scent. The kind that clouded your senses, made you forget...

The pile of unpaid bills on the table
. She focused.
No, she wasn’t leaving. She needed any work she could get and the job was hers
if she wanted it. Which was odd, given he could snap his fingers and agencies
would send him staff in a heartbeat, but she wasn’t about to question it. Right
time, right place, that was all. “This is my resume, and also references and
referees from my last position at the high school.” She added, “I was on the
staff there for four years.”

“Thank you.” He took the folder and set it down on his desk.
“Nora will send it down to HR.”

He looked hard at her for long, long seconds. The urge to
cross her legs the other way or shift on her seat was overwhelming. She
couldn’t have felt more like a spider being examined under a microscope than if
he’d been standing directly over her.

Finally, he relaxed his gaze. “Your work for the day is
fairly straightforward. Nora has an appointment scheduled for the remainder of
the morning so you will manage her desk until she returns at noon. In the
afternoon, Hugh will look after you and show you the ropes.”

Really? She’d imagined herself vanquished to an office
somewhere in the bowels of the building with dozens of other hard working
employees. But no. She was staying here, in offices with pristine carpet,
walnut furniture and the delicious smell of class.

His gaze skipped down to her feet and back up again. “Tell
me about yourself.”

Her toes tingled and she focused on the question. “I have a
degree in psychology and English, with a Diploma in Counseling, and –”

“No.” He cut her off swiftly. “Not your academic or work
history, Mel. I can look at your resume for that. I mean about you. What do you
like to do in your spare time, what do you and your friends get up to in the
weekends? What hobbies do you have, what interests you?”

“Oh.”
Crikey
. She’d rehearsed her work history but
not her personal one. She thought fast as her mind flicked back over the past
twelve months. It was embarrassingly bereft of substance. “Last year was an
interesting year.”

His eyebrows arched. “How so?”

She coughed to clear her throat, hoped she’d cleared away
some of the embarrassment as well. “I got engaged.”

His gaze narrowed, so hard she almost flinched. “You never
mentioned you were engaged.” It was almost an accusation.

“I was engaged. Max and I…we broke up.” It was the last
thing she wanted to talk about with Daniel Christie, or anyone, for that
matter. “Do any of these questions have any impact on my ability to do the job,
because they are extremely personal and I assure you, won’t affect my work.”