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His Independent Bride: Wife Against Her Will / The Wedlocked Wife / Bertoluzzi's Heiress Bride. Catherine SpencerЧитать онлайн книгу.

His Independent  Bride: Wife Against Her Will / The Wedlocked Wife / Bertoluzzi's Heiress Bride - Catherine  Spencer


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She shook her head. ‘I see now why I had to get a new passport in such a hurry. Business trips, Dad told me.’

      ‘So there will be,’ Joel said. His smile seemed to graze her skin. ‘But for once, I thought pleasure could come before business.’

      ‘What about my luggage?’ she said, her desperation increasing. ‘I’ve nothing suitable packed. My summer things are all in London.’

      ‘Your father arranged for Mrs Inman to put some swimwear and leisure gear in a case for you,’ he said. ‘And there are shops at the hotel. You can blow my credit cards to hell and back.’

      ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I’ll look forward to it.’

      But she was lying. She felt no sense of anticipation about any of it, just sick with fright.

      ‘Our check-in’s over there,’ Joel told her.

      ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘I—I see.’

      I can’t do this, she thought frantically. I have to get away.

      The terminal was heaving as usual. It shouldn’t be impossible to give Joel the slip, she thought, trying to calculate whether she had sufficient cash on her to pay for a cab to London. Once she got there, she could go to Lois—take cover there. Joel wouldn’t follow her. She was sure of it. Because that would reveal that his bride had preferred to run out on him, rather than accompany him on their honeymoon, and his pride would never allow that.

      She made herself glance around deliberately casually, then consult her watch. ‘Have I got time to buy a couple of books?’

      ‘You feel time may hang heavy on your hands?’ he enquired ironically, then relented. ‘Why not wait until we get to the island? They’ll sell books at the hotel.’

      ‘I have the flight to get through first,’ she reminded him coolly, and saw his eyes narrow slightly. ‘May I get something for you? A newspaper or a magazine?’

      ‘No, thank you,’ Joel said too courteously. ‘Why not pick up a game of Scrabble or Snakes and Ladders, as well, just in case things get really boring?’

      ‘Good thinking,’ she said sweetly. ‘Or even Monopoly. That takes a very long time. Never a dull moment.’

      She walked off, taking care not to hurry. When she risked a glance over her shoulder, the crowds had closed in, and Joel was nowhere to be seen.

      Which was just what she wanted. She looked around, trying to get her bearings—the most direct route to a taxi rank.

      She was nearly at the exit, when a hand fell on her shoulder, halting her.

      ‘Still looking for the bookshop, darling?’ Joel asked pleasantly. ‘I think you’re going in the wrong direction. And I’d hate you to get lost.’ He took her hand firmly in his. ‘So let’s deal with the rest of the formalities, shall we? Together? Now?’

      She swallowed. ‘Please,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Please don’t make me do this.’

      ‘I’m offering you a holiday in the sun, sweetheart,’ he drawled. ‘And I’ve no intention of going alone. And if you really need something to read on the plane, then I’ve brought some stuff about the island. By the time we get there you should be an expert.’

      They were, of course, travelling first class, and the tall, attractive brunette who told them she was Fiona, their cabin hostess, was serving them champagne, accompanied by a red rose for Darcy.

      She was smiling and professional, but Darcy intercepted the envious look she was sent as the girl turned away to deal with other passengers. A look that shouted she knew Darcy was on honeymoon with the most attractive man on the aircraft, and frankly wished she was in her place.

      Not nearly as much as I do, Darcy silently assured her.

      She sipped her champagne and began to look through the information on Augustina, her heart sinking.

      It certainly seemed idyllic, she thought. An environment designed for couples to enjoy romantic seclusion, and that was the last thing she wanted.

      Each of the bungalows had a private swimming pool and its own plot of tropical garden, leading down to the long stretch of sandy beach.

      Meals could be taken on the veranda, or up at the hotel, depending on the whim of the individual guest.

      In addition, she read, there was dancing each evening, a casino, plus a golf course, and horse-riding facilities near by. What more could anyone ask? she thought ironically.

      ‘Ever done any scuba diving?’ Joel asked.

      She’d been aware he was watching her. ‘No, never.’

      ‘Then Augustina could be a great place to learn. I hear the reef is spectacular.’

      ‘Then perhaps I’ll try it,’ she said. ‘Some time.’

      One detail she’d picked up on which gave her a modicum of hope was that all the bungalows had two bedrooms, each with its own en suite bathroom.

      Perhaps Joel intended to keep his word after all, she told herself. On the other hand, he might assume that palm trees, and surf whispering on a moonlit beach, would work some kind of magic, and only one room would be needed.

      If so, he would soon find out how wrong he was. She was not in the market for seduction, however expert. And she never would be.

      It was getting dark when they finally arrived, the last stage of the journey being by boat.

      She was reluctantly impressed. The hotel was luxurious, but the atmosphere was laid-back, and the staff welcoming and friendly. The manager himself came out to greet them.

      ‘Mr Castille, it’s good to see you again. Mr Ferrars has had to go to Miami, but he’ll be back in a day or two, and he says I’m to look after you personally, and your lovely bride.’

      He turned to Darcy, and just for a moment she saw a faint flicker in his eyes, as if she wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Or whom, she thought. ‘Welcome to Augustina, Mrs Castille. I hope this is the first visit of many.’

      She shook hands, murmuring something polite, and wondering.

      A smiling man called Vince loaded them, with their luggage, onto a vehicle like an upmarket golf buggy for the short trip to their bungalow.

      She said, ‘I didn’t realise you’d been here before.’

      ‘I came to the opening,’ he said. ‘Great party.’

      ‘Your companion enjoyed it too, I expect.’ She said it before she could stop herself. My God, she thought, I actually sounded as if I was jealous. That I cared if he’d brought another girl here.

      ‘She appeared to have a good time,’ Joel drawled. ‘We both did.’ He paused. ‘Do you want me to go into details?’

      ‘No!’ The denial was almost explosive.

      His voice was cool. ‘Then let’s drop the subject.’ He paused. ‘And we’ve arrived.’

      Vince helped her down from the buggy, then carried in the luggage.

      Darcy made herself follow, trying not to look as if her legs were shaking under her. Because this was real seclusion. She hadn’t seen another person on the way here, or even a light.

      She walked through sliding glass doors, straight into a lamplit living area that occupied the full width of the bungalow, and was comfortably if simply furnished with deeply cushioned rattan chairs and sofas. In addition, she noticed, one corner was occupied by a compact but fully equipped kitchen. At the rear of the room double doors led to a passage, where Vince was waiting enquiringly.

      ‘The bedrooms are through there,’ Joel told her. ‘One each side, and identical. Any preference?’

      She shook her head mutely, speechless with relief, and heard him briskly


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