Jacqueline Baird - His Inherited Bride

Jules felt the colour rise in her cheeks. ‘Side issue’ said it all, which was all she ever had been to her father or any other man. She reached out and took the glass from him, his long fingers accidentally brushing hers, and felt the tingling effect of his touch right up her arm. But as she controlled her shock her green eyes clashed with deep brown. Was it mockery she saw in the dark depths?

‘Yes, well…’ She cleared her throat, refusing to let her simmering anger show. ‘Given you are so busy, perhaps we can combine lunch with business. I would hate to take up too much of your precious time,’ she suggested, taking control of the situation and, lifting the glass to her mouth, she took a long, cooling swallow.

‘As you like,’ Rand said with a dismissive shrug of his broad shoulders. ‘After all, I am here on behalf of your late father. Perhaps an enquiry on your part about his last illness would not go amiss,’ he prompted sardonically.

‘I had heard nothing from my father in seven years until you called to tell me he was ill. A heart attack, I believe you said, and I have no reason to disbelieve you,’ she offered. ‘For all I know he could have married again. I might even have a brother or sister I know nothing about,’ she suggested dryly, ‘but I am sure you can enlighten me.’ Rand was not going to intimidate her and she boldly held his dark gaze, her own expression, she hoped, one of cool concern.

Her father and her ex-fiancé Enrique had been two of a kind. Arrogant, autocratic tyrants, who thought they could do what they wanted and everyone else had to do as they were told. Jules and her mum had both suffered at their manipulative hands, and she had to be mad to put herself in Rand’s power, she had no doubt he was just the same, but what choice did she have?

First her mother had discovered her husband had a mistress right under her nose, and years later Jules had caught Enrique, Rand’s supposed friend, with Maria, Rand’s fiancée… No, she was not going there, or she might lose her temper completely and tell Rand the truth.

But then again he might already know all about Maria’s unfaithfulness. Maybe that was why he had not married her. Whatever… Jules was not going to ask…

‘I’m sure my father was well looked after to the end.’

‘Oh, he was,’ Rand assured her smoothly. ‘And to ease your mind I can tell you he never married again.’ He paused, his eyes narrowed intently on her delicate face. He would stake his fortune Jules knew damn fine she was the closest living relative of her late father, but he was prepared to play her along for now. ‘And there are no other children,’ he emphasised with an edge of cynicism in his tone. ‘Though it pains me to admit, I had only seen Carlos half a dozen times in the last few years. I have a very efficient manager in the Santiago office and I don’t come to Chile very often, but luckily I was staying at the ranch when he took ill. Too much red meat and too many cigars, a small heart attack that even the doctor thought was nothing too serious, and then a massive one and he died three days later. I attended the funeral, of course.’

‘Good for you,’ Jules said swiftly. ‘I am glad he had someone with him.’ Not that her father was ever alone, living on a ranch with several staff and never without a woman, as far as Jules knew. He had hardly needed Jules as well. But the constant mention of her father was churning up memories she preferred to forget and, pinning a smile on her face, she forced herself to look up into his eyes.

‘But to be honest I did not really know him very well—a few weeks’ holiday every summer for four years. You knew him much better than I.’ She saw a brief flare of some powerful emotion on his face, but was quickly reassured when his firm lips parted into a reciprocal smile.

‘You’re right, of course; all the more reason why you must stay awhile,’ Rand declared adamantly. ‘Ah! The food has arrived. Let’s enjoy our lunch.’ He smiled again, his dark eyes mesmerising her. ‘I have a very large appetite and it badly needs filling.’ Jules blinked and tore her gaze away. Crude, she thought, and colour flooded her face at his suggestive comment, but she went pale as he added, ‘We can talk about your father later when we get to the ranch.’

‘The ranch?’ she parroted, her eyes widening in puzzlement.

‘Don’t worry, I have made all the arrangements. After missing your father’s funeral I knew you would want to visit his grave as soon as possible,’ he said and she could only agree.

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