The Marriage Pact
‘Er...family problems? Illness?’ he ventured.
‘It’s my—’ She broke off with a frown. Her sister wouldn’t relish having her personal affairs discussed with a complete stranger. She’d hate it.
Poor Sally hadn’t even wanted to discuss her marital woes with her—her own sister. For months she’d denied even having any problems, making all the excuses in the world for her husband’s wild, selfish excesses. Until they’d become too difficult to hide or to bear. And by then Claire had been half a world away, working in London, only able to help by sending money—enough to save the power and phone being cut off—and offering support from a distance.
‘Do you mind if we talk about something else?’ Or not talk at all, her eyes told him with a frosty glare.
‘By all means.’ He didn’t even miss a beat. ‘You’ll also be looking for a new job when you get home...you said? An accounting job.’ He paused. ‘You can’t go back to your old firm?’
She drew in a deep, quivering breath. ‘No.’ Nigel had made that impossible. Even though based in London, Nigel, as a partner of the prestigious international firm, would be visiting the Melbourne office from time to time. He could even be transferred there for a spell, as she had been to London. Only she hadn’t lasted in the London office for her planned six months... thanks to Nigel.
‘I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,’ she said rather snappily. It might be hard to find another job with a major accounting firm in Melbourne. Especially if Nigel got nasty and spread the word around that she wasn’t reliable—couldn’t hold down a job. He was capable of it. He saw himself as a suitor scorned. Closing his mind to the fact that he’d been unfaithful to her. ‘The girl didn’t mean a thing to me,’ had been his pathetic defence. It was obvious that neither had his brand-new fiancée.
She was relieved when the hotel came into view at last. Never had the deep pink walls and canvas awnings looked more welcome.
‘Have a good trip back,’ she said carelessly as she bundled Holly through the glass doors, which Adam Tate sprang forward to hold open for her. She didn’t mention his visit to Melbourne, hoping he’d take the hint that she had no wish to see him again.
He was far too full of himself. Far too good-looking. Too sexy. Too charming. Too disgustingly complacent. He was just like Nigel. He thought himself irresistible.
The baby was crying in earnest now. If Adam Tate had an answering comment, she didn’t hear it as she dashed across the hotel lobby and up the stairs, not wanting to wait around for the lift and give him a chance to catch up with her.
She had absolutely no wish in the world to see him ever again.
It was that same night that everything blew up in her face.
After putting Holly and the baby to bed and waiting for a while until both were sleeping peacefully, she seized her chance to slip up to the rooftop garden to breathe in some fresh evening air before returning to her own room next door to theirs.
There was a stunning sunset. The graceful spires and domes of Venice rose in stark black outline against the blood-red sky. It reminded her of what the dark-eyed Englishman, Adam Tate, had said—You should be watching the sunset with a man...
She stirred restlessly. And wished suddenly that she’d never come up here...wished in the next breath that she’d never met him. He was everything she despised in a man. And yet—
She heard a sound behind her. The hairs at her nape lifted. It couldn’t be...him?
‘Claire! I thought I might find you up here.’
A familiar English voice...but not his. She swung round, her lips parting in surprise as she saw a bulky figure take shape in the gathering dusk.
It was Holly’s father, Hugo Dann. Her employer. Still dressed as he’d been when he and his wife had sallied off earlier to a cocktail party and dinner at the Gritti Palace. Except for his jacket, which he’d discarded somewhere on the way up.
She flicked her tongue over her lips. ‘Mr Dann! Did—did you forget something? The children are asleep,’ she added quickly, in case he thought she was neglecting her duties.
‘I know—I just looked in on them.’ He sauntered closer. ‘I decided not to stay for the dinner because I wanted to go through some notes before tomorrow. My wife’s coming back later with friends.’
Her skin prickled. She had the feeling that he was telling her about his wife for a reason. To let her know they weren’t likely to be disturbed? She swallowed. All men are not like Nigel, you fool. But the way he was looking at her...and she could smell whisky on his breath.
‘I’d better get back to my room,’ she said a trifle breathlessly. He’d never try anything there—her room was right next door to the children’s room. And she could lock her door.
‘Wait! Don’t go...’ He caught her arm as she tried to slip past him. ‘Don’t let me frighten you away, Claire. Stay and enjoy this glorious sunset.’
She had a fleeting vision of Adam Tate’s face nodding sagely, his eyes glinting with laughter... mocking her. It piqued her no end.
‘I—I’ve seen it! It—it was much better earlier...’ She looked pointedly down at his hand. Why didn’t he let her go? She tried to pull away. ‘Please, Mr Dann,’ she begged, when his grip tightened. ‘I want to go.’
‘You’re a very sexy woman, Claire.’ His voice, she noted in dismay, had thickened. ‘You shouldn’t tempt a man by being so...alluring.’
She gasped. He was blaming her for his pathetic weakness? How like Nigel he was! ‘I couldn’t help it, Claire. She was such a seductive little witch. Any man would have been tempted. It didn’t mean a thing...honestly. A moment’s stupid weakness, darling. It won’t happen again.’ Until the next time. She hadn’t given him the chance.
‘Would you kindly let go of my arm?’ She grated the words, her face twisting in contempt, to show him that she was deadly serious.
‘Just one kiss, Claire, love.’ His whisky-tinged breath assailed her nostrils, causing her to catch her breath in repulsion. ‘It won’t hurt anyone. Venice is the city of romance, remember...and you’re here all alone. It’s not fair. I can’t let you go home without at least a—’
‘No! Please, Mr Dann...’ She was angry—disgusted—rather than scared. She knew that anyone could come up to the rooftop at any moment. And he must know it, too—and wasn’t the least concerned about it. It was only his wife he was concerned about, and she was safely out of the way at the Gritti Palace.
Incredibly—ridiculously—she found herself wishing that Adam Tate would appear. He might not be her ideal knight in shining armour—in fact, he was far more dangerous, as far as she was concerned, than her tipsy, wife-fearing employer—but at least he would save her from Hugo Dann’s clutches, and while he was sorting the drunken sot out she could make her escape from both of them.
‘Gosh, Claire, you’re beautiful! You’re simply irres-irresistible!’ Suddenly he jerked her into his arms—none too gently—and clamped his open mouth down on hers, cutting off her indignant protests.
She tried to struggle free but he had her arms pinned, her lips imprisoned, and he was much stronger than she was. She tried in vain to kick him, squeaking in protest—sickened by the moist heat of his slack lips and the strong smell of alcohol on his breath.
As the clumsy assault continued she went limp in his arms, hoping that if she stopped struggling and became passive the repulsive kisses would end all the sooner. Then she could give him a sharp kick in the shins and make her escape, leaving him to repent at leisure when he sobered up.
He’d probably be begging her forgiveness in the morning, shamed and horrified at what he’d done and petrified that she would walk out on them—or tell his wife.
‘Hugo!’
That one harsh squawk achieved instantly what her struggles had failed to do. His hands dropped away, his head snapping back and spinning round.
‘Sonia...’ After an initial shocked stare he seemed to sober up as if by magic. He pushed Claire away from him, almost stumbling as he stepped back and wheeled round to face his wife. ‘Darling...Thank heaven you came! The little vixen threw herself at me!’
As Claire gasped in disbelief he gabbled on, his face noticeably puce even in the gloom.
‘I came up to see where she was. She didn’t seem to be in her room and I was worried about the children. I found her up here, mooning over the sunset. Lonely, I dare say, poor girl. Missing her boyfriend. When she saw me she fell into my arms...just like that. I’m sure it wasn’t even me she was kissing... more likely her boyfriend back home. We must be cool and calm about this, darling,’ he babbled on, ‘and try to forgive her. Blame Venice. Blame the sunset. Blame the magic of the evening...’
‘Forgive her? Are you crazy? If I can’t trust my babies’ nanny...’ Sonia slewed round to confront Claire, sheer venom in her sharp green eyes. ‘You’ll pack your bags and leave first thing in the morning! And you’ll leave with nothing, you understand? No more money from us, no air fare back to Australia—nothing but your return ticket to London, which you already possess! You can find some other way to get back to Australia... and good riddance!’
‘Darling, you can’t!’ Hugo bleated as Claire’s heart plunged to her toes. ‘We need her.’
‘I’ll pay someone from the hotel to watch over the children for the rest of the week. Or you can stay with them. She goes!’
‘But—but you can’t send her away with nothing. We promised to pay her air fare back to Australia—’
‘Are you taking her side?’ Sonia’s head jerked round, her green eyes stabbing him. ‘Maybe she wasn’t the one who instigated this shoddy little scene after all. Maybe you threw yourself at her.’
‘Sonia, no! I didn’t!’ Hugo spluttered. ‘I wouldn’t!’ The pathetic denial made Claire’s mouth twist in contempt but neither of them noticed or cared about her. Hugo was too intent on trying to save his own neck and Sonia on removing her from their lives.
‘I’ll ring the airport first thing in the morning and change the girl’s flight to the first available one back to London,’ Sonia spat back. ‘I’m not having her flying back with us at the end of the week. She goes tomorrow. And I’m damned if we’re going to finance a water taxi to the airport either. She can catch a waterbus to the railway station and get a train to the airport.’
Hugo’s teeth tugged at his lips. ‘Dear... we can’t let her go without paying her something. How about just her salary for the two days she’s been here in Venice with us...?
‘No! She doesn’t get a penny more than we’ve already given her for the children’s expenses and her food and accommodation. If she kicks up a fuss I’ll cancel her air ticket back to London as well and she can pay her own way back.’ Sonia’s lip curled. ‘She’ll manage. I’m sure she’ll soon find another rich male to latch onto.’
Claire cast her a withering look but it was spoilt when Adam Tate’s laughing dark eyes flashed back into her mind, bringing a swift flush to her cheeks. He was also leaving for London tomorrow. If the Danns found her a seat on the same flight she would have to face him again.
Well, there was no way she was going to latch onto him! Or any other good-looking Englishman. Rich or poor. She’d had it with Englishmen...once and for all!
CHAPTER TWO
CLAIRE came down to breakfast on her own, for the first time without the children. She’d already packed and had been told by a tight-lipped Sonia Dann that she was booked on the one o’clock flight back to London and to leave the hotel immediately after breakfast since it would take some time to get to the airport via waterbus and train.
‘We’ll look after the children this morning, inconvenient as it will be,’ were Sonia’s parting words, and Claire had bitten back the retort on her lips, tempted as she’d been to say a few words about mothers who found it inconvenient to have breakfast with their own children.
Her heart skipped a beat when she walked into the pretty garden courtyard where a selection of breakfast foods and drinks were spread out on tables at one end, and saw Adam Tate, sitting alone at a small table for two. He waved and beckoned.
She hesitated, inwardly cursing the erratic way her heart was leaping around in her chest. There was absolutely no reason for it. None! Should she simply ignore him? Or just wave back and head for a table of her own?
She tightened her lips as he beckoned again, more urgently this time. She would have to go over, for a second at least.
‘You wanted me for something?’ she asked, her tone lukewarm and her grey eyes cool. Cooler than she felt.
He was wearing a smart cream shirt this morning with a trendy stand-up collar, unbuttoned at the top to reveal a tantalising glimpse of brown skin. And I bet he knows how sexy he is, she thought sourly, schooling her expression to show no reaction.
‘Where are the children this morning?’
“They’ll be coming down with their parents. Later.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I’m leaving Venice this morning. As soon as I’ve had breakfast.’
‘Leaving? I thought you were here for the whole week. You’re all leaving?’
‘No. Just me.’ She pursed her lips. He might as well know. He was bound to hear it from someone on the staff. Sonia Dann would make sure everyone knew: ‘I’ve been relieved of my duties,’ she said shortly.
‘Oh? Making a pass at the husband, were we?’ he quipped. ‘Only joking,’ he said hastily as she speared him with a malignant glare. His dark eyes probed hers as she stood stiffly, anxious to make her escape. ‘Jealous wife syndrome would be closer to the mark, would it?’ he asked slowly, a knowing look in his eye.
She let her gaze flicker away. ‘Do you mind if I go and get myself some breakfast? I have to leave shortly.’
‘Sorry. Why don’t you grab some cereal and orange juice and join me? Silly to both take up tables when we’re here alone. Besides, I want to talk to you.’
Well, I don’t want to talk to you, her eyes told him. But politeness held the words back and returned her to his table a few moments later. Besides, it would be petty to sit at a table all by herself now that they knew each other.
‘You wanted to talk to me about something?’ she asked, her expression and body language anything but encouraging. Without waiting for an answer, she dug her spoon into her bowl of muesli—her eyes fixed to the spoon in her hand.
‘I’m leaving Venice today myself,’ he reminded her. ‘I’ll be on the BA flight at one p.m. What flight are you on?’
‘The same,’ she mumbled, without looking up. Was there no getting away from him?
‘Ah...good. You haven’t already booked a water taxi, have you?’
‘I won’t be taking a water taxi. I’ll be going by waterbus and train.’
‘No need for that. I’ve a water taxi arriving at the hotel at eleven-thirty. We can share it.’
Her heart jumped. ‘Thanks, but...I’d prefer to go my own way.’ Even a half-share in a water taxi was beyond her means now that she’d been dismissed from her job with nothing to show for it. She’d have to watch every dollar from now on. And start saving madly the moment she found another job back in London.
‘You’d prefer to struggle onto a crowded waterbus with all your luggage and then put up with a long tedious train ride to the airport when I’m offering you a free ride in a water taxi that will be empty, apart from myself, and will take less than half an hour? You’re being ridiculous.’
She bristled, but realised at the same time that it would be ridiculous to refuse. Especially if he was paying.
‘Oh, all right. Thanks,’ she said, trying not to sound ungracious. It would also give her a couple of extra hours here in Venice. Time to dash out on her own and see a few things she hadn’t been able to see with the children, knowing they’d be bored. Like the magnificent paintings at the Accademia, or the breathtaking views from the top of the Campanile in St Mark’s Square.
‘Well...’ Adam leaned back in his chair, nursing his coffee cup in his strong, long-fingered hands. ‘I guess you’re happy that now you’ll be able to go back to Australia a few days earlier than planned?’
The question was like a dousing of cold water.
‘I won’t be going back to Australia. At least not for a while.’ Not now, she brooded. Thanks to Hugo Dann. She thought of her sister, pregnant and sick and miserably in debt, and silently cursed all roving-eyed Englishmen.
‘Oh? Why the change of mind?’
‘I haven’t changed my mind. I...can’t afford it. Not now, anyway.’ She glowered at him from under her thick lashes. He wouldn’t understand what it was like not to be able to afford things. The man reeked of success and affluence.
‘You’re saying your employers let you go without paying you? And now you won’t have enough money to afford your air fare back to Australia?’ He looked as affronted as she felt.
She shrugged. ‘Something like that.’ No need to tell him that they’d originally promised to pay her entire air fare home, and now she was broke—or close to it.
She’d used up most of what she’d managed to save in London from her job with Nigel to pay off some pressing bills of her sister’s, debts that Sally’s useless husband, as usual, hadn’t been able to meet.
Poor Sally had been frantic with worry, knowing that the phone and power were about to be cut off and having no hope of earning the money herself. She’d been too ill with morning sickness to keep up her work as a model, which was just about all that had been keeping them afloat since their marriage last year. Sally had actually rung Claire and begged her for help, which she’d always refused to accept before.
And now—the last straw for poor Sally—her brute of a husband was urging her to terminate the pregnancy!
Claire pushed her bowl aside and reached for her coffee. Sally needed her. She’d even admitted it, which was so different from six months ago when she’d all but told her big sister to butt out of her life.
And now, thanks to Hugo Dann, she couldn’t fly home to offer Sally the sisterly support she needed. Not until she’d saved up enough for her air fare back to Australia. And once she did get back to Melbourne she’d have to find another job—a permanent job. She wouldn’t be able to help Sally in any material way until she started earning a salary. A good salary at that.
Damn Ralph Bannister, she cursed silently. Damn the lying, gambling, heartless good-for-nothing! Sally deserved better. And if she wasn’t. so besotted—still—she would see it.
‘Look, I have a proposition,’ Adam Tate said.
Claire jolted back to earth. A proposition? Her eyes flared in suspicion. I’ll just bet you have, she thought nastily, her mind still on Ralph Bannister and how he’d propositioned her sister a year ago with extravagant promises, gifts and lies about his family and past. Not that Sally knew about the lies...yet. Claire had discovered the truth while she was in London and hadn’t been able to bring herself to tell her sister... at least not from so far away.
‘Forget it,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m not interested.’
‘You wrong me, Claire.’ The handsome mouth curved. ‘I’m offering you a job.’ He paused. ‘Another child-minding job.’
‘Child-minding?’ She stared at him. Whatever she’d been expecting, it wasn’t that.
‘That’s right. My two-year-old son.’
‘You have a son?’ Her eyes widened. Somehow she’d imagined him to be fancy-free and without ties or responsibilities. And then she remembered Hugo Dann, father of those two little angels. This man could be another Hugo. Having a child didn’t make him safe.
Who else did he have tucked away at home? A wife? A jealous wife?
‘His name is Jamie. He’s in London with my mother at present. His last nanny...well, let’s just say she proved unsatisfactory.’
Unsatisfactory? She stabbed him with a piercing look. That was what Hugo Dann would say about her. That she had proved unsatisfactory. The slimy wolf.
Were all Englishmen the same?
His lips stretched wider as understanding flashed in his eyes.
‘Relax...I didn’t come on to her, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was nothing like that. She simply couldn’t cope with an over-active two-year-old. My mother’s been interviewing nannies for the past week but I’m to have the final say when I get back.’
Still been no mention of his wife. Were they separated? Divorced? Or was his wife a full-time career woman...like Sonia Dann?
She frowned across the table at him. ‘You’re leaving your son at home with a nanny when you go to Australia? A brand-new nanny?’ Her teeth tugged at her lip. ‘Your mother can’t look after him?’ Or your wife?
He murmured approval. ‘I can see you care about my son already. I could see yesterday that you care for children and know how to handle them.’
Had he been thinking of offering her a job when they’d met yesterday? Was that why he’d approached her? Not simply to chat her up because she was a reasonable-looking female who just might be willing to give him a good time? Had he known all along that she was the children’s nanny, not their mother? He could have easily found out from the hotel staff.
‘No. I won’t be leaving my son at home with a nanny or with my mother or with anyone else.’ His answer came easily. ‘I’ll be taking him with me to Australia. Assuming I can find someone to help me look after him for the next three months... possibly longer.’
‘Oh.’ She let that sink in, conscious that her heart was pounding like a wild jungle drum in her chest. If he meant what she thought he meant...
‘Your mother can’t fly to Australia with you?’ Find out all you can about him before you start even thinking about what he might be proposing.
‘Unfortunately not. She hates flying. Refuses to fly. And, anyway, she’ll have the farm to look after. She’s anxious to get back there.’
‘The farm? You mean...she doesn’t live in London?’
‘No. She’s only staying at my London apartment this week while she’s interviewing nannies and preparing Jamie for his trip to Australia. Normally she lives at our family farm in the Cotswolds. She’s helped me look after Jamie since...my wife died. With the help of various nannies.’
Claire inhaled slowly and deeply. So...he was a widower. Her heart softened a trifle. ‘You’re saying that Jamie has been living on a farm in the Cotswolds with your mother while you live and work in London?’ She couldn’t keep a note of censure from her voice.
‘I try to divide my time between both places. Jamie is a very active child and is happier living on the farm than in town. I spend as much of my time there as I can.’
But he wasn’t there all the time. Poor Jamie. No mother...and only a part-time father. But at least Adam intended taking his son to Australia with him. He must have some parental feeling.
‘Just what exactly do you want from me?’ she asked bluntly.
He put down his cup and smiled. Rather too complacently for her liking.
‘It seems we each have something to offer the other. I’m offering you a free flight back to Australia—hopefully within the next couple of days—and an extremely well-paid job within easy reach of Melbourne for the next three months or so. I’ll pay part of your salary up front to establish my bona fides. In return you’ll help me look after Jamie during the flight and afterwards at my sheep property in Victoria’s Western District.
‘And, since I know you’re a qualified accountant and that you wish to keep your hand in, I’ll ask you to do the farm accounts for me and possibly some auditing, for which I’ll pay you accordingly. Well?’
She flicked her tongue over her lips. ‘There’s just one thing...’ She hesitated. There were lots of things, actually, but one thing was uppermost in her mind right now.
‘And that is?’
‘The reason I’m so anxious to get back to Melbourne...’ She swallowed, sure that he’d withdraw his offer the moment he heard it.
‘You have...an attachment back in Melbourne?’ he assisted delicately. ‘A lover waiting for you?’
She recoiled. ‘I certainly do not!’ A spark of contempt turned the grey of her eyes to pure silver. ‘I have no...attachments, as you call them.’ Her tone was icy. ‘And I don’t intend to.’ She drew in a breath. ‘Ever again.’