Miranda Lee - Seduction And Sacrifice

‘How long would it take me to learn Japanese?’ she asked, concerned about her money situation, not to mention her ability to learn another language. She’d only been average at school.

‘With intensive lessons, most people are able to communicate on a basic level after a couple of months.’

‘A couple of months! But I’ll have run out of money by then.’

‘I doubt that. I’m sure Byron will be very generous with his reward. That opal is conservatively worth over a million dollars.’

‘You’re joking!’ Gemma gasped.

‘Not at all. Prices are on the rise again.’

‘A million dollars...’

‘Are you upset that you’re probably not going to be an instant millionaire?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I am.’

‘Money doesn’t always make you happy, Gemma.’

She laughed. ‘Neither does being poor.’

Now he laughed. ‘You could be right there. Well, at least you have a better chance than most poor people of ending up rich.’

‘How do you figure that out?’

His head turned to rake over her once more. And once again, Gemma was shocked. Not so much by what she saw behind those grey eyes, but by the way they could make her feel. All hot and heady and helpless.

‘A beautiful young girl like yourself should have no trouble ensnaring a rich husband. Who knows? I might even marry you myself.’

Gemma sat there, stunned. Till he bestowed a wry little smile on her and she realised he was only teasing.

‘You shouldn’t make fun of me,’ she said with reproach in her voice, but turmoil in her heart. For she would marry him in a flash if he asked her, this man she’d only met twice, but who already had her in the palm of his hand. It was a shocking realisation and one which underlined her own foolishness where Nathan Whitmore was concerned.

Gemma had often wondered why women made fools of themselves over men, not having ever understood the strange power of that alien emotion, love. She’d also scorned girls who claimed to have fallen in love at first sight. What rubbish! she had used to think.

Now, as she wallowed beneath the onslaught of a tidal force of longing, she had to accept she’d been wrong. This had to be love, this dreadful drowning feeling, this mad desire to go along with anything and everything this man suggested, even something as insane as marrying him.

But of course he hadn’t meant it. She had to keep reminding herself of that. No doubt city men couldn’t resist teasing silly, naïve country girls. She simply had to pull herself together.

He was smiling at her again, amusement in his eyes. ‘Who says I was making fun of you?’

A very real resentment began to simmer inside Gemma, who was not a person to simmer in silence. ‘I can just see you marrying someone like me,’ she countered indignantly. ‘People would think you’d gone mad after having someone like Mrs Whitmore as your wife. Now she’s what I call beautiful!’

‘Is she now?’ he drawled. ‘Yes, well, Lenore is lovely to look at, no one would deny. But there are all kinds of beauty, my dear Gemma, and all kinds of wives. Speaking of which, you’ll be meeting Lenore tonight. She’s bringing my daughter over to stay for a while. Apparently, the little minx has been creating merry hell at home and is in need of a firm hand.’

‘How old is she?’ Gemma asked, picturing a recalcitrant six-year-old.

‘Fourteen.’

Her head snapped round before she could stop it.

‘Yes, I know,’ he said drily. ‘I was a child groom. Twenty-one years young the day before my wedding. And yes, it was a shotgun affair.’

Gemma caught his bitter tone and wondered if his marriage had been under duress right from the start. Marriage simply because the woman was pregnant seemed fraught with danger. The couple had to be in love as well. Still, it was hard to imagine a man not being in love with Lenore Whitmore. Maybe Nathan’s bitterness came from her not being in love with him.

‘Kirsty’s basically a good kid,’ Nathan went on. ‘But the divorce hit her hard. She just can’t seem to come to terms with it. Not that I blame her.’

‘You...you shouldn’t be bothering with me, then, if you’ve got your daughter coming.’

‘Why not? As I said, there’s plenty of room. Besides, you’re not that much older than Kirsty. She might relate to you better than Melanie or Ava.’

‘Melanie and Ava?’ Gemma must have sounded as perplexed as she felt, for Nathan chuckled.

‘Don’t worry. I haven’t got a harem installed. Melanie’s Byron’s housekeeper. She’s not that old—thirtyish, I guess—but unfortunately projects a personality that would make Mrs Danvers seem warm.’

‘Who’s Mrs Danvers? The previous housekeeper?’

Nathan smiled. ‘A housekeeper certainly, but one of the fictional kind. I’ll tell you about her one day.’

‘Perhaps you should tell me who Ava is first.’

‘Ah, Ava. She’s Byron’s kid sister. A change-of-life baby. As scatty as anything and young at heart, but as old as Melanie. No, I think Kirsty’ll get along best with you. In fact, I might hire you as her minder while you learn Japanese. What do you say? Bed and board for nix in exchange for keeping an eye on the little devil before and after school?’

Gemma’s head was whirling. Everything seemed to be going so fast. In the beginning, she’d only been going to stay the night. ‘I...I’ll have to think about it.’

‘Will you? Pity. I was hoping you’d just say yes. It would have been the perfect solution.’ His sideways glance carried an odd little smile which Gemma found quite unnerving. It was as though it hid some secret plan only he was privy to.

‘Perfect solution?’ she found herself stammering.

‘Yes. You would be safely accommodated till you find your feet and I wouldn’t have to worry about my wayward daughter. Still, I have to warn you, Gemma, I don’t take no for an answer lightly. I can be a very stubborn man when I want something.’

Gemma gulped. She didn’t doubt him for a moment. But what, exactly, was he wanting?

Oh, Ma...I’m trying to keep my head. I really am. But it’s hard. It’s really hard. If only he weren’t so...so...

‘How long before we get to your place?’ she blurted out, her stomach in knots.

‘Not far now. But it’s not my home. It’s Byron’s. It’s called Belleview Manor. But mostly we just call it Belleview.’

FOR a girl who had spent her entire life living in a dirt-walled dugout, Gemma’s introduction to Belleview was an overwhelming experience.

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