Riley’s Billionaire Page 3

  Or make damn certain she never got pregnant, and the only way to ensure that would be not to sleep with him. Riley took a shuddering breath. Not a problem. The man was too cold for words if he could barter over a child as if it were an article of clothing or some rare book.

  Riley studied her engagement ring and weighed her options while Jack ordered. She had signed all the documents, agreed to his terms and signed the necessary Notice of Intended Marriage with him at the Registry office. Now she would have to keep her end of the bargain.

  The fact that they were both willing to risk a pregnancy, to subject any child to separation from their mother or live in lonely luxury with both parents was unthinkable. Riley still couldn’t believe she had agreed to such a thing.

  Startled, she realised Jack had spoken to her. ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘You’ve still not mentioned what you intend to do with your personal belongings at your apartment. Do you need to pack them for storage? We can have everything shipped once we are home.’

  Home. ‘Yes. Clothes, some books, nothing valuable. A few sentimental items.’

  Jack sipped his wine. ‘I’ll have James go with you this evening.’

  ‘That isn’t necessary.’

  He shook his head. ‘Nonsense, it’s no trouble at all. My driver can be here within the hour.’

  She was surprised. ‘You mean today?’

  Jack checked his watch. ‘I have a business meeting at seven tonight. I’ll have James see you home then pick you up tomorrow at ten. Does that work?’

  ‘What? No! You can’t expect me to pack up a life, change my mailing address, say goodbye to friends, all within the span of a few hours.’

  Jack was as nonchalant and amenable as if they were making plans to visit the animal sanctuary south of the city. ‘Alright, then Monday. Our thirty-one days are up then. We should be able to pick up your dress, meet with the photographer I’ve hired, marry that afternoon, then be on our way to the vineyards.’

  ‘When did you hire this photographer?’ Riley eyed him suspiciously.

  Jack swallowed the mouthful of vegetables before answering. ‘Promise you won’t be angry?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then I refuse to tell you.’

  Riley’s brain rushed to keep up. He had been that sure of her? Was this how her life was to be? Constantly second-guessing his every move, wondering what calculations he made to get her to comply with his wishes?

  ‘Riley, your food is getting cold.’ He speared a chunk of salad from his plate and offered her a taste.

  Suddenly she was no longer hungry. She considered rising, telling him in unladylike terms to bugger off, then leaving, but the man before her would probably sue her for breach of contract. In fact, she was sure of it. Wouldn’t do to have her name smeared throughout the country, especially when she’d be pounding the pavements, outback, and every dry creek bed in Australia, looking for employment once Jack was done with her.

  Giving a saccharin smile, she refused his food as if it were a peace offering she wasn’t ready to accept.

  She managed to rise on trembling legs. ‘If you’ll excuse me. I’ll be right back.’

  Then she bolted for the lavatory, fearful of crying as her impending future with Jack Beauchamp encroached like a menacing demon ready to devour her.

  Four days later, they picked up the dress which fit perfectly. The cocktail outfit would serve for both wedding and reception. They then spent an hour doing a photo shoot at the hotel. Riley moved as if in a whirlwind dream, feeling tossed from this place to that, allowing the photographer to position her, pose her, and primp her. Afterward, she and Jack left for the Registry office.

  Jack took Riley’s left hand in his as the magistrate instructed him to place the band on her ring finger.

  He held her shaking hand and squeezed. Once he had recited his vows, he murmured. ‘Calm down. It’s only business.’

  Riley wanted to burst into tears, and her voice momentarily deserted her, so she nodded. Only business. Her virtue for a vineyard, and if she was really awful, a child in exchange for money. Only business. She’d yet to formulate opinions as to what family meant, since she had never had one, but this sure as hell wasn’t it.

  Was this why her parents had given her to the orphanage? Had she fulfilled a business arrangement, and once she had served her purpose, were they done with her?

  Startled, she realised it was her turn. She unsteadily repeated her vows, wavering on the last syllables, and nearly fainted. Jack clutched her hands to his chest, anchoring her.

  With subtle voice, Jack reproached her. ‘Riley, you can’t throw up in the midst of our wedding.’

  She kept her voice to a barely audible whisper. ‘That wasn’t spelled out in our contract.’

  ‘The promise to honour and obey — you just agreed.’

  She glared at him, the first time she had made eye contact since the ceremony began. His voice was stern, commanding, but his eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter.

  Determined to keep him from having fun at her expense, she took a couple of deep breaths and soldiered on until the magistrate was done. Thinking she had survived the ordeal, Riley realised too late that she’d not paid much notice to what came next.

  ‘You may kiss your bride.’

  And Jack did. But it wasn’t a peck on the cheek nor a brief touching of lips. No, not with this man...her husband. Jack took her in his arms and branded her with a blistering joining of lips leaving no doubt she was now his.

  Breathless and unsteady, Riley closed her eyes and clung to him, which seemed only to release his pent-up desire, something she had failed to see during their time together. Jack thrust his tongue past her teeth, and his hands moulded her body to his. Heat seared them, igniting her blood, leaving her hungry for his taste and touch.

  Riley was adrift in a sea of unchartered waters until the distinct sound of the magistrate’s deliberate cough brought her back into focus.

  When she opened her eyes, Jack’s dark eyes held her captive for a moment, and then he released her and offered her an arm for support.

  ‘Come, chérie . Our reception is in a few hours.’

  Chapter Three

  Riley expected a large estate, but she never dreamed of Cadigal Valley’s immense landscape with a beauty that took her breath away. She had applied for a job via email without travelling further than her computer. Now she could well imagine the lush greenery and fruits bursting with flavour once winter had passed.

  Jack pointed toward one particularly high hill in the distance. ‘We’ve a cabin on the other side, where you might want to store some of the samples you’ll be testing.’ He grimaced. ‘Of course, you’re arriving just before the heavy rains. Once those start, our biggest viticulture problem presents itself. There’s a mould we can’t quite defeat.’

  Riley nodded. ‘I’ll be ready for it.’

  His response was quiet, thoughtful. ‘Let’s hope your capabilities equal your confidence.’

  If not, Riley wondered, would she lose her position as wife as well, considering she’d been hired, so to speak, for both jobs?

  She was glad Jack had seen fit to have contracts drawn for both their marriage and her position for his company. He had been completely fair regarding her scientific role, not paying her less nor more than her worth for her qualifications. For his wife, however, he’d been extremely generous. She would want for nothing. Jack had insisted upon bestowing a monthly allowance ‘for whatever you deem necessary’, and it was more than she’d be receiving as viticulturist!

  Of course, I’m not encouraged to give birth as his scientist. Riley bit her lips to keep from grinning.

  He seemed lost in thought, so Riley nudged him in the ribs with her elbow. ‘Has the mould been identified?’

  ‘No. That will most likely take precedence.’

  Jack turned to her. ‘Before we reach home, I want to assure you that you’ll be comfortable but that we will be sharing quarters.’

&
nbsp; Riley gulped. ‘You mean a bed?’

  ‘We discussed this, and it’s spelled out in the contract — didn’t you read it thoroughly? This is to look like a marriage in every context. Different bedrooms would hardly help us maintain our image as man and wife.’

  Riley’s eyes widened, and she felt like an idiot. There had been so many things specified in the contract, she must’ve glossed over it. ‘Then I hope there’s a decent couch in the room or a floor that isn’t too uncomfortable for you, because you’re not sleeping next — ‘

  Jack leaned forward, practically nose to nose with her. ‘You are not putting me out of my own bed, chérie.’ He chucked her chin. ‘Besides, I doubt I’d be sleeping if we were next to one another.’

  Riley was too flabbergasted to argue. She’d cross that bridge when they came to it, which by the looks of it would be soon enough.

  Their driver took a right turn, and soon sloping hills and valleys evened out into a slight climb toward a house that looked more like a castle than anything else. Elevated amongst the vineyards and set against the backdrop of a western mountain range, was her new home. Despite her misgivings regarding her situation, suddenly Riley felt something she hadn’t felt in ages. Hope.

  A sweeping verandah flowed into what she could only imagine was a grand foyer that branched into other rooms. Various fruit trees and flowering bushes flanked the steps leading to the verandah. Even in winter, the effect was lovely. Welcoming.

  Forget worrying about bedtime. Riley knew she’d be perfectly content to camp outside with a canopy of stars above her and so much beauty surrounding her.

  The fanciful thought lingered, even though she tried dismissing it. There was something achingly familiar about the setting, as if she’d seen it before. She must’ve noticed it in a brochure or something.

  Riley shook her head. She’d probably just dreamed for years of having such a home that she was only too willing to adopt Cadigal Valley at first glance. For all she knew, the estate’s other inhabitants were less than friendly and most likely downright unwelcoming, considering the race Jack and Patrick had in securing Amelia’s wealth.

  ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘What?’ Riley jumped. ‘No.’

  Jack looked into her eyes with concern. ‘You moaned and shook your head.’

  She lowered her gaze, as if that would hide her from his inquisitive look. ‘I must’ve let my imagination get away from me. I’m nervous, of course.’

  He placed an arm about her shoulders and squeezed lightly. ‘That’s only natural. I should’ve realized this might be traumatic for you. I’m sorry I didn’t extend our stay in Sydney for a few more days to give you time to adjust to both me and your move to the valley.’

  Newlywed jitters, Riley. New husband, residence...home, That’s all this is.

  Soon the car stopped, and she was able to stretch. They’d only been travelling a bit over an hour, but her legs were shaky.

  Jack had teased her when she placed nearly everything she owned into storage. ‘Already anticipating a divorce, chérie?’ he’d asked.

  Now Riley was glad she’d left her things behind. What if this didn’t work out? What if Amelia objected to her somehow? It was, after all, Amelia’s house.

  When she looked back toward the house as Jack and their driver retrieved their luggage, Riley saw two figures at the top of the stairs. An older woman and a younger man, both staring at them. His face was unreadable, but the woman positively vibrated with energy, as if she couldn’t contain herself. Her arms opened, and she beckoned Riley forward.

  She has to be looking at me, Jack is behind the car with the boot lid up.

  Riley took a few tentative steps, sucked in a deep breath, and marched forward, as if she’d climbed the dozen or so steps thousands of times. When she reached maybe two steps from the verandah, the woman’s eyes widened, and she blinked several times. Then she clutched her hands to her heart...and fainted.

  Much as Jack distrusted Patrick, at least he was there to catch Amelia before she hit the marble surface of the terrace.

  Jack witnessed what happened, dropped what luggage he had, and bounded upwards toward Amelia and Patrick. When he reached the verandah, Patrick brushed him aside.

  ‘Give her some air.’ His eyes were trained on the older woman in his arms.

  Jack swore in French, berating himself for not having walked Riley to Amelia where he might have been more useful. It wasn’t certain why Amelia had fainted, and they probably wouldn’t know until after her physician examined her, but Jack had never witnessed her doing such a thing.

  Between the two of them, he and Patrick carried Amelia inside and rested her on a chaise lounge. She was already awake and protesting that they put her down while they were still outside, but the two men ignored her pleas.

  ‘Darling, you fainted.’ Patrick brushed a strand of hair from her eyes.

  ‘Stop fussing, and get me some water. Please.’ Amelia struggled to sit up. ‘Come and give me a kiss, Jack. You’ve been away too long.’

  He quickly obliged. Never had he seen Amelia pass out, but she seemed to be alright, despite his initial fears.

  She broke the embrace and pushed him away then swung her legs from the chair and patted it. ‘You, girl, come sit by me so I can get a better look at you without craning my neck.’

  Riley did as she was told and sat on the end of the lounge, facing Amelia.

  The older woman squinted, as if examining a bug. Her blue eyes sparkled with intelligence. ‘You’re Irish.’ It wasn’t a question.

  ‘I-I don’t know, ma’am. I was raised in an orphanage and know nothing about my parents.’

  Amelia glanced sharply at Jack then back at Riley. ‘What’s your name? I can’t continue calling you girl every time I address you.’

  ‘Riley Grace.’

  ‘Humph. I’m not familiar with the surname, but Riley is certainly Irish.’ Amelia leaned against the back cushion of the chaise lounge. ‘Some welcoming committee for you, my dear. I was looking forward to meeting you, but I didn’t plan on this.’

  Riley rushed to reassure her. ‘Of course not. Did I cause this? Are you alright?’

  ‘I’m fit as a fiddle.’ Amelia touched Riley’s arm. ‘You remind me of someone, dear, so pardon me if I stare.’

  Jack wanted to hold them both, to assuage Riley of whatever guilt she might be feeling while also comforting Amelia just to assure himself she was okay.

  His thoughts raced. He was mad to have brought Riley here so soon. He should’ve taken his time, not rushed her into marriage. She wasn’t old enough, hadn’t enough experience to deal with what was about to happen. He could tell she was nervous. There was nothing he could do about it.

  Riley glanced about the room. ‘You have a lovely home, Mrs Fitzgerald.’

  ‘Amelia, and thank you.’

  Patrick arrived with the requested glass of water, which gave Riley an opportunity to rise and give Amelia more room. When she did, Jack pulled her to his side and slipped an arm about her, resting his hand on her hip. He could feel her body shaking beneath his touch as she sank against him for support, but he admired her for keeping up appearances with him,

  Once Amelia sipped her water, she made another decision. ‘Have one of the servants show Riley to your quarters, Jack. You, stay here. We have much to discuss.’

  Jack looked at Riley then back at Amelia. ‘What about the reception you wished to have?’

  ‘It’s scheduled for tomorrow afternoon, giving you plenty of time to settle in.’

  He was reluctant to have Riley dismissed so early, but he wasn’t surprised. When Amelia had something on her mind, it wasn’t long before she voiced it, and he’d seen the way she looked at his new wife. Amelia might be in her seventies, but she was sharp. If there was the slightest nuance that he and Riley weren’t as close as they appeared, Amelia would be the one to recognise it instantly.

  She emptied the contents of the glass then handed it back to her nephew. �
�Patrick, find something useful to do. I’d like to speak to Jack in private.’

  Amelia held out her hands for Jack’s assistance. ‘Let’s go out onto the verandah. You’ll want to smoke, I imagine, when you hear what I have to say.’ She chuckled as she stood and righted herself. ‘You’ll want a drink as well.’ She motioned for a butler and told him what to make and deliver to the verandah.

  Jack braced himself. Amelia detested smoking but allowed him the occasional cigarette without commenting. She enjoyed her wine, but if she was supplying him with scotch and cigarettes, whatever her agenda, it was important.

  He gave his wife a chaste kiss on the lips before she was taken upstairs and whispered in her ear. ‘Don’t worry, just go upstairs and relax. I’ll see you shortly.’

  Amelia now stood proudly, in control once again, as she led him outside.

  Jack pulled out her chair for her. ‘Do we proceed, or should I down my scotch first?’

  ‘Don’t be a smart-arse. I’ll get straight to the point.’ She levelled a steely stare. ‘How long did it take you to find her?’

  Jack coughed, nearly snorting the drink he’d taken. ‘My wife?’

  ‘My granddaughter.’ Amelia sipped her wine, but her hand shook. ‘Why else do you imagine I fainted? I’ve never fainted in my entire life.’ Her voice trembled. ‘She looks exactly like her mother, but then you wouldn’t know that, because I’ve never shown you my private photo album of my son and his family.’

  Jack had a moment of panic. ‘Has Patrick seen the photos? Or his father?’

  ‘What odd questions. I’m sure Brian has seen them; Joseph most likely showed him. But I doubt Patrick has set eyes on any of them. He’s lived with me since Joseph died and Brian moved back to Victoria, but...no. I’m sure Patrick wouldn’t know any of them if they sat on him.’

  She set the glass on the table between them and moved away, clutching her hands in her lap, as if she were afraid she’d spill her drink.

  So much for thinking he had a secret. Jack sat before her like a reprimanded schoolboy, feeling ashamed of himself and proud at the same time. ‘Two years.’