Elizabeth Duke - The Marriage Pact

‘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.