Riley’s Billionaire Page 2

  ‘No doubt.’ Riley’s temper flared. ‘In your bed.’

  He shook his head. ‘Only if you choose. I’ve never needed to force a woman to endure how I pleasure her.’ He shrugged and grinned. ‘However, the sheets are silk, the bed is large enough to be your playground, and I assure you the experiences will more than satisfy your obvious need to gain the upper hand with me.’

  His lips hinted at promises, should she wish to accept. Dark eyes caressed her face, and the calculating presence he’d brought to the table melted into a softer, more relaxed demeanor, one more befitting a bearer of roses.

  Riley’s anger dissipated, but questions persisted. ‘Why me?’

  Jack studied her intently, as if scrutinising an opponent, the businessman fully back in control. ‘I am part owner of a vineyard and you applied to work for us. I’ve viewed your credentials. You’re young, but you have experience in determining vine diseases and issues.’

  Riley shook her head. ‘Hiring me as a viticulturist shouldn’t entail marriage. Why not simply hire me for my qualifications? Are you in the habit of marrying your employees?’

  He sighed, seemingly reluctant for the admission. ‘Let’s just say I’m in need of you for two occupations.’

  I need, as opposed to I want. This time he had her attention.

  Riley shifted from personal to business matters. ‘You have the paperwork already drawn up, so you felt you could persuade me?’

  Jack’s handsome face reflected surprise more than the confident arrogance she expected. ‘The prenuptial agreement is at my hotel. James is there, so we wouldn’t be alone.’

  ‘Not so fast.’ Riley’s insides roiled with anticipation and dread. ‘How do I know you’ll keep your end of our bargain, that I’ll be able to purchase my own vineyard?’

  ‘It’s a legal document. Get your own attorneys to look it over and advise you.’

  Her own vineyard. The thought was mind-boggling. Most people would save for decades to obtain such a thing. He, who had at least a family of sorts, something for which she’d have given anything, was offering up a dream she’d had since she was a teenager.

  ‘I want more.’ The words escaped Riley’s lips before her brain had time to register the thought.

  Jack shrank as if she’d thrown cold water on him. ‘More...money?’

  Riley laughed sadly. ‘No, more than just money, I want a family.’

  He relaxed. ‘If you remember, I offered you that as well.’

  Riley was incredulous. ‘You offered to buy me to provide yourself with a family. Do you really think I’d have children with a man who bought and traded souls like they were cattle?’

  She hadn’t meant to insult him, but surely the man was made of more than muscle and money.

  He looked at her near-empty coffee mug, frowning. Then the corners of his mouth lifted.

  Riley followed his gaze. Inside the rim of the pottery was one phrase — Sharing the passion.

  ‘You want the fairytale.’ Jack’s voice was soft. He traced the inside of her mug with a forefinger, dragging chocolate syrup from the rim then offering it to her. When she didn’t want it, he popped his finger into his own mouth and sucked. Slowly.

  She felt her jaw slacken and quickly closed it. What a cheap trick. If he was trying to turn her on, it was working, but she couldn’t afford to lose track of their conversation or this sexy beast would have her at his mercy, doing whatever he asked.

  ‘Don’t you?’ Riley probed.

  ‘I’ve never believed in them,’ he said. ‘I don’t know how to give you something I’ve never seen.’ He sat back in his chair, almost mumbling. ‘My parents were happy — are, by all accounts.

  I talk to Mum regularly but I haven’t had a conversation with my father in years. He’s always on a trip, making more money or spending it.’

  Riley felt relieved. So he had a family. Both parents. ‘Any brothers or sisters?’

  ‘Two younger brothers, one older sister.’ Jack smiled. ‘I promise not to force them all upon you at once, which is why we’re marrying here, if you’ll have me, instead of France.’

  Riley wanted to tell him that giving her a family was the one thing that would’ve swayed her, without reservation. But he wanted an answer, and the best she could offer was to agree to marry him without commitment to have a child. Not under present circumstances. Perhaps, if they came to love one another...but not now.

  She weighed her options. A loveless marriage that would provide for her financially and make her other dream come true, that of being her own boss and being able to work at what she loved. Or struggling for years, probably decades, until she could afford a vineyard and in the hope that another man who loved her would want her for his wife.

  ‘I’ll marry you.’

  For several seconds they stared at one another, taking it all in, the impending joining of names if not souls, a business venture that promised to be nurturing on at least one level.

  Jack motioned for a waitress. ‘I owe you a hot coffee before we go. Your beverage has grown cold.’

  After ordering a drink for each of them, Jack pulled a money clip from inside his jacket pocket and slipped out a large denomination bill. Handing it to the waitress, he said he wished to buy two of their clean mugs as souvenirs.

  ‘We need something to commemorate the date,’ he said nonchalantly.

  Riley scoffed. ‘You’ve never purchased souvenirs in your life.’

  ‘I’ve also never married.’ He smiled charmingly. ‘Something tells me I’m about to experience many firsts with you.’

  He lifted his cup of coffee once they were alone. ‘Cheers. Is tomorrow okay with you for signing the required documents at the magistrate’s?’

  ‘So soon?’ Her breath caught in her throat.

  ‘Australian law, I’m afraid. We are required to give thirty-days plus one with our Notice of Intent to Marry. Once that’s done, we wait. In the meantime, we shop, perhaps go on a few dates, learn more about one another, and find a place where you’d like to store your things, since you’re intent on leaving them here.’

  Riley tired just thinking about it. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘You must provide proof of birth. Will that be a problem?’

  She shook her head. ‘The sisters helped me file for a delayed birth certificate years ago.’

  Jack seemed pleased. ‘Good. Then we’ll go tomorrow. Don’t forget your driver’s licence and birth certificate.’

  Chapter Two

  ‘My mother insists on providing you with wedding accoutrements.’ Jack looked embarrassed, even though they’d known one another nearly a month. ‘I just found out about it, honestly, or I’d have suggested this earlier.’

  ‘A wedding gown is a bit more than that.’ Riley didn’t know what to think and couldn’t comment further. It wasn’t like her to get flustered, but this was one of those situations that called for decisive action on her part, or the reluctant allowance of granting Jack control. She already felt out of her comfort zone.

  ‘I know this is awkward,’ he said, ‘but your mother-in-law wants wedding photos she can display before her friends.’

  Guilt trips from the billionaire used to getting his way? His mother must be some formidable force if she could reduce Jack to behaving like a nervous groom.

  ‘Then we can take photos with me wearing something else. Since we shall have no guests when we say our vows, I see no need for a wedding gown, so no shopping for clothing.’

  He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid not. There are also outfits you must choose for the reception and ball gowns for our formal dinner parties.’

  ‘What reception?’

  Jack folded his arms across his chest, CEO-style, and Riley knew she was about to lose the battle. Again.

  He stared past her out the hotel window overlooking Sydney Harbour. ‘I have social obligations. It’s bad enough I’ll show up with a bride and cheat Amelia out of a wedding.’ He explained who Amelia was in short detail.

>   ‘So you and your business partner are close?’

  ‘Extremely. She has been like a surrogate grandmother to me.’ He unfolded his arms and gently held her shoulders, forcing her to face his hawk-like gaze, which now seemed devoted to gauging her reactions. ‘Amelia is elderly, and I don’t want her upset.’

  Riley swallowed hard, choosing her words carefully. ‘You don’t want her knowing you’ve purchased a bride. I get that, but you feel obligated to perform a charade with the reception? Why? To have her think you are in love with me?’

  ‘Succinctly put, and yes.’ The harsh look in his eyes softened. ‘Amelia is...special. You’ll see when you meet her.’

  He released her. ‘I shall go with you to help choose your wardrobe.’

  Riley rolled her eyes upward. ‘I’m not five. I can dress myself.’

  ‘And so you shall, in clothing befitting a Fitz...a Beauchamp.’

  Every reality show she had watched about extreme makeovers flitted through Riley’s mind. She wondered if there would be hidden cameras, showing what the working class girl looked like before and after her billionaire bride transformation. Did she really want her own vineyard badly enough to subject herself to such scrutiny?

  She collected her jacket, purse, and signed documents, muttering, ‘Next you’ll try sending me through charm school, having my teeth capped, and giving me a nose job. Maybe even breast implants. I won’t do it — any of it!’ She tightened her lips stubbornly.

  He stopped her midway through her heating up over the possibility he might try dressing her like a Barbie doll or worse a Playboy bunny. He held up a hand, as if about to speak, then used it to cover his mouth.

  Riley widened her eyes in horror. This was her life, and the jerk was doing his best not to laugh, but his twinkling dark eyes and twitching lips couldn’t hide his amusement.

  Jack retracted whatever action he was about to take and grasped her chin between thumb and forefinger. ‘Riley, there is nothing wrong with your...breasts, body, face, or teeth, and you are welcome to dress as you please while working.’

  His hands moved toward her chest, cupped palms, and for a second, Riley thought he would touch her rather than simply use his hands to illustrate a point. Her breath hitched at the thought of those long fingers brushing against her — no, caressing her, and she trembled.

  ‘I sense a “but” coming. ‘ She jerked away and mimicked his earlier stance with arms defiantly folded, partly to cover her breasts, which felt exposed.

  He stood back, giving her blessed distance from intimacy. ‘I shall, however, give some consideration to the charm school.’ With that, he laughed.

  ‘You couldn’t be bothered putting all of this in the papers you had me sign? You had to spring the shopping and how I’m expected to look and act after I signed?’

  ‘Such drama over a few clothes. I don’t think it’s necessary.’

  Fuming, Riley turned toward the door. ‘Let’s spend your money before I change my mind.’

  Jack recalled his last conversation with Maureen. Take her on an excursion through the best stores in Sydney, his mother had said.

  My arse.

  Riley detested shopping and spared no words letting him know. Gucci, Chanel, Dior, Hèrmes — didn’t matter where. Riley obliged him by modelling the clothes, but neither cashmere, nor silk, or any other expensive fabric suited her personal tastes. Leather handbags, stylish heels that made her legs delicious-looking — nothing wiped the scowl from her face.

  She seemed less combative when he took her to a boutique on the outskirts of Sydney to be fitted for something to wear at their reception. The way her small hands drifted over the fitted bodice then the chiffon skirt of the material gave her an endearing fragility that weakened him like nothing had in years. Suddenly the enormity of what he asked of her registered, and their bargain was no longer solely about what he wanted. She was a bride for the first time, and if he were any kind of man he’d see to it that the experience was pleasant.

  She looked up and caught him staring. As if he knew this was the dress and she wanted his approval, Jack nodded, and the smile of appreciation he offered was genuine.

  She turned away from him. Were the tears glistening in her eyes ones of sadness that this would be a loveless marriage? Or was she simply overcome with emotion, as his mum said women were apt to be?

  His multitude of thoughts triggered his own repressed emotions. Perhaps it was he who would stop the farce. How could he condemn her to trade her freedom, not to mention the possibilities of other suitors who’d be thrilled to take her as a wife, just so he could secure the highest position within Cadigal Valley’s enterprises?

  He escorted Riley from one business to the other, feeling more and more like a cad.

  When he dragged her into Tiffany’s, he thought she might call the whole thing off.

  ‘Really?’ Exasperation emanated from her every pore. ‘A wedding ring is not necessary.’ Suddenly, just as he was about to grant her leeway, Jack realised it mattered. Quite a lot. For one thing, no wife of his, even one as delightful and innocent as Riley, would strut about without what she might consider a matrimonial brand. Jack stiffened his spine. A ring symbolised that she belonged to him. He’d not embarrass her with anything gaudy, but by heaven she would wear his ring.

  They eventually settled on a two-carat solitaire for her, and simple matching bands for them both. He could’ve chosen something more expensive, but he knew Riley would howl her displeasure at the ostentatious cost.

  He had their purchases sent back to his hotel then addressed his own growing hunger. ‘Your coffee shop — they have food as well?’

  ‘I’m surprised. You seem more like a steak and potatoes man.’

  He nodded. ‘I am, but the place we were at earlier is charming and you like it.’

  Was that a reluctant smile tilting her delectable lips? Good. He liked her better when she wasn’t annoyed with him.

  Riley seemed confused, so he gave her time to assimilate all that had transpired and concentrated on getting them back to George Street.

  Once at the coffee shop, he reached across the table for her hands and clasped them between his own, unaware of rubbing them to take the chill away. He assumed she was cold, because she shivered.

  ‘Would you rather we ate indoors?’

  Riley shook her head. ‘Here, please. I feel more comfortable outside.’

  ‘Ah. Walls. Do they make you claustrophobic?’

  She shrugged. ‘A bit. I think I’m just hungry. It’s been an exhausting day.’

  Jack rubbed her hands. ‘You’ve done well. I forgot, I wasn’t the one stepping in and out of clothes for hours.’

  ‘And parading about in heels.’

  She sounded frustrated, but Jack caught the mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

  ‘Are the new clothes to your satisfaction?’

  She pulled her hands from his. ‘Does it matter?’

  ‘Of course!’

  Riley rubbed her temples. ‘I’m sorry for being grumpy. The gowns, dresses, hats...they’re all beautiful. I didn’t expect any of this. It’s hard to take in.’

  ‘You’re not used to so many gifts?’

  ‘Hardly. I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen. But you already knew that, didn’t you?’

  Jack admitted she was right. ‘You must feel at a disadvantage.’

  ‘Ya think?’ Riley leaned forward, the first time since they’d met that she appeared to engage him in conversation. ‘I know less about you than I do the utility company personnel or my postman.’ She wrung her hands. ‘And I’m marrying you? I must be out of my mind. We did splurge a bit today, and I haven’t said thank you, which I should.’

  He took advantage of her willingness to talk. ‘Skip the thank you for now. Why exactly did you spend my money? Was it just to humour me?’

  ‘Hardly. You’re a growly old cat, but you’re not that bad.’

  He perked. ‘You’re comparing me to a feline?’
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br />   ‘Panther to be precise. Relentless, ruthless. Waiting to pounce.’ Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she took a deep breath. ‘I’m sure you know the legend about the huge panther that’s lived in the Blue Mountains. Somehow I like to believe he’s real, dangerous or not. And you’re like that legend, a survivor.’

  ‘As are you, chérie .’

  She gave him a full-on stare. ‘I’m not ruthless. You are.’

  Jack cocked his head, thinking. ‘Ruthless isn’t synonymous with cruel. Besides, aren’t you going after what you want, as well?’

  ‘My situation is different. I’m merely taking advantage of your offer. You, however instigated this arrangement, which makes me nervous, to be frank. I don’t believe you’re being totally honest with me.’

  ‘How so?’ Jack was genuinely concerned. ‘Was I rude? Did I insult you in any way?’

  Riley lowered her gaze. ‘Our waitress is coming.’

  ‘Good. What would you like?’

  To know you much better! They’d been together three times in as many weeks, and while he seemed to know her well enough to help dress her, she hadn’t ferreted out from him any more than she had upon their initial meeting,

  She gave her request quietly, still at odds with how she felt.

  She didn’t know how to voice her concerns. Jack was right — he’d been the perfect gentleman, but this marriage proposal was disturbing. She had unanswered questions, such as...how long had he followed her? How had he found her, and what criteria had he used to choose her for his bride?

  The prenuptial agreement had shocked her. The value he had placed on her participation was staggering and more than generous. Unless she conceived, in which case Jack would gain full custody should they divorce. She would receive adequate alimony and her possessions, but nothing else should she leave him for any reason.

  Riley couldn’t consider giving up her child! The alternative would be to remain in a loveless marriage.