Bound By Marriage. Nalini SinghЧитать онлайн книгу.
ate the food that was put in front of her, but had anyone asked her what she’d eaten, she wouldn’t have been able to tell them. Her mind was too full of other things. The heart of her, the part that had loved Damon forever, kept insisting that she was making a terrible mistake, that she should walk away from this wedding. Maybe Damon…
No.
Kayla was pregnant. Jess wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something happened to either mother or child because of her actions. And the truth was, Damon had had more than two decades to fall in love with Jess. He’d always chosen someone else.
What about that phone call? The madness in her whispered again. Don’t you remember what he—Stop! Screaming silently at her self, she pushed aside the empty plate. “I think I’ll go for a walk to clear my head.”
Mrs. C. nodded. “Gabe’s out by the east barn.”
Smiling, Jess thanked her, walked outside and headed west. After last night, her husband-to-be was the last person she wanted to see. Because in those few explosive moments on the verandah, he’d destroyed everything she thought she knew about herself. What kind of a woman loved one man and kissed another with such passionate need?
Two of the sheepdogs ran past, then returned to circle her before deciding to lead the way. The interruption was precisely what she’d needed. Taking a deep, deep breath of the crisp morning air, she focused her attention on the untamed splendor of the land around her—tussock-covered hills dotted with sheep, hardy wildflowers more beautiful than any cultured garden and over it all, an endless blue sky.
Mind and body calmed. This was right. This land was where she was meant to be—everything in her knew it. She could never walk away.
No matter what the cost.
The dogs barked and raced off. She followed at a more leisurely pace, her eye taking in the west barn in the distance. It was the single structure to have survived the catastrophic fire twenty-five years ago. Her father had been one of those who’d come to fight the flames that night, but no one had been able to stop the conflagration. Like a beast let loose from some infernal region, it had devoured almost everything…and everyone.
Having reached the old building, she decided to push open the door and look around, but that was before she saw who was inside. “Mrs. C. said you were in the other barn.”
Gabe slammed one hay bale on top of another, sending dust sparkling into the invading sunlight. “So eager to see me?” Pulling off his work gloves, he thrust them into the back pocket of his jeans.
She refused to let him see how much he’d rattled her. “What are you doing here?” And why did her eyes keep going to the sweat-slick muscles of his arms, revealed by the short sleeves of his T-shirt?
“We needed to create some space in here and everyone else was busy.”
“Oh.” She scuffed the floor with her shoe. “Can I ask you something?”
His answer was a grunt as he shrugged into the sheepskin jacket he’d apparently thrown off earlier. Taking that as a yes, she carried on. “After the wedding sometime, maybe tomorrow or the day after…would you mind if we visited my parents?” They were buried next to each other in the Randall family cemetery, only about a sixty-minute drive away. Although Angel was a huge spread, the family quarters had been built relatively close to those of the adjoining station.
“Of course I don’t mind.” His face was all harsh masculine lines when he glanced at her, but she thought she heard a buried thread of unexpected gentleness.
His understanding probably wouldn’t last through her next request but she was going to start this marriage as she meant to go on—she would not let Gabriel Dumont crush either her mind or her spirit. “I want to visit your family, too.”
Silence.
“I don’t have any memories of them, but I know Michael was four, Angelica even younger.” No response. She pushed on. “They were your family. We should remember them.”
“Fine.” It was a flat sound but at least he’d agreed. “You ready for the wedding?” He nodded at the door.
She tugged it open, her palm sweaty in spite of the low temperature. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
Stepping out, they began to walk toward the main house.
“We’re not going to have time for a honeymoon.”
“I understand. That’s okay.” It was no lie. The idea of being with Gabe 24/7 in some romantic resort tied her stomach up into a thousand knots. She was about to say something else when her attention was caught by a dark blue sedan pulling up to the house. It was followed by an almost identical vehicle in deep green. “Did you invite some other people?”
“That’s David Reese, my lawyer.” He picked up the pace. “The other car will be Phil Snell, your lawyer.”
“Mine?” She nearly had to jog to keep up with him.
“If you sign the pre-nup without independent legal advice, you could challenge it down the road.”
“Oh.”
They didn’t speak the rest of the way. Both lawyers were nice enough at first glance and when Phil took her aside for a private chat, Jess found him to be a very sharp operator. But of course he would be—Gabriel wanted this airtight.
“If you and Mr. Dumont divorce, you’ll have no claim on the land,” Phil summarized. “But you’ll get a substantial monetary settlement dependent on the duration of the marriage. It’s an extremely good deal. Your fiancé is a generous man.”
This had never been about money. It was about her heritage, about promises, about loyalty. “Where do I sign?”
Afterward, she walked up to her bedroom, something inexplicably heavy and painful inside of her. It seemed wrong that her wedding day should start like this, with a discussion of money and assets. But what else had she expected? Angel Station was Gabe’s heartbeat—as his future wife, she fell somewhere far, far lower on his list of priorities.
“Nothing you didn’t already know,” she whispered to herself, running her hand down the ivory satin of her wedding dress. So why was she suddenly so sure she was about to make the worst mistake of her life?
“I miss you, Jessie. I should’ve never let you go. Come back to me…”
Trembling, she picked up the phone, barely aware of what she was doing and began to punch in a number from memory. The first six digits were easy but a single tear streaked down her face as her finger hovered over the last one. No. Shaking her head, she hung up before she threw away both her father’s memory and her own self-respect in an effort to chase an impossible dream.
A few short hours later, her hand squeezed the delicate stems of her bouquet with crushing force. Having Gabe by her side should have comforted her but it only increased her gut-churning tension.
He was a man who’d never bend, never gentle to tenderness. Certainly not for his convenient bride. Instead, as his kisses had shown, he’d demand. And he’d demand far more than she’d ever expected to have to give.
“Do you, Jessica Bailey Randall, take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?”
And even then, something inside of her was waiting for Damon’s familiar voice to call the wedding to a halt. If he had, she might have given up everything—her principles, her promises, her loyalties. But Damon didn’t come, as he hadn’t come yesterday, though everyone in Kowhai had to know she was back.
She set her jaw. “I do.” Her eyes were locked with Gabe’s as she spoke and she was startled by the open hunger that stirred in their depths, though she shouldn’t have been. Gabriel Dumont was a man who held onto what he owned. Of course he’d be possessive with his bride, no matter that she’d been chosen for reasons other than passion.
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