To Marry For Duty. Rebecca WintersЧитать онлайн книгу.
cold-blooded response left Piper nonplussed. “Obviously not to you, but it does to me. We’re not in love with each other, so it wouldn’t work. Furthermore I like my world just as it is. My career has taken off and I’m excited to see where it leads.
“Personally I can’t conceive of anything more absurd than the two of us parading around as man and wife in a loveless union just because you want to pull some stunt to get out of marrying Camilla, and I’m the nearest available pawn.”
After a period of uncomfortable quiet he said, “I understand how you feel.” His benign response managed to infuriate her even more. “My apologies for having asked something of you that is pure selfishness on my part and could even be dangerous. I won’t disturb you again.”
With one of those barely discernible yet imperious bows which was second nature to him, he started for the door.
That did it.
“Oh no you don’t!” She ran ahead of him and put her back to the door so he couldn’t leave. “You don’t drop a little bomb like that and then just walk out of here while I stagger around like a victim of shell-shock.”
Trying to catch her breath, she thought she detected a faint smile of satisfaction on his lips. Since he’d always found her amusing, she ought to be used to those horrible, patronizing looks he gave her. Unfortunately he’d only enflamed her.
She put her hands on her hips. “I knew there had to be some other reason you came all this way to see me. Explain dangerous. To whom?”
“To both of us. Naturally I’d provide security so no harm would ever come to you.”
Hairs prickled on the back of her neck once more. “Security?” Despite her bravado, the sudden oblique expression in his eyes gave rise to an uneasy feeling inside her.
“A necessary precaution,” he answered solemnly, trapping her eyes with his dark brown gaze. “But it’s a moot point now. Rest assured that if you had agreed to become my wife, you would have been helping the entire family. In time you would have known the full gratitude of the House of Parma-Bourbon.”
“I don’t want anyone’s gratitude!” Piper practically spit out the words. She wanted Nic’s love, but that wasn’t possible.
“Forgive me for having taken up your valuable time, Señorita Piperre.” He shrugged back into his elegant suit jacket. “I’ll let myself out.”
As he reached past her to open the door, their arms brushed, sending a current of electricity through her body. Her pain flew off the chart.
“Be sure to give Jan back her ring before you leave the building,” she cautioned in a brittle voice.
He paused in the entry, eyeing her through veiled lids. “But of course.”
But of course nothing!
Her eyes prickled behind their lids. She glared at the door he’d closed on his way out.
How dare he have the gall to invade her space like some arrogant Spanish nobleman from the past, expecting her to fall for his droit de seigneur routine with its own peculiar Pastrana twist.
Dangerous my foot!
Wild with hurt, she wheeled around and poked her head inside Don’s office. He looked up at her. “Something tells me I’m about to lose my business partner. Like I said, those Varano genes are fatal for the Duchess triplets.”
“You’re wrong, Don. He’s gone for good. I came in here to apologize for putting you in an untenable position. If you don’t mind, I’d rather work through my lunch hour.”
After closing the connecting door, she headed for her drafting table. Getting back to work was the one panacea that kept the pain at bay.
Forty-five minutes later Jan made an appearance. “I’m going to lunch with Jim now.”
Piper got up from her seat and walked over to the desk where she kept her purse. After pulling out a twenty dollar bill, she extended it to her assistant.
“Have lunch on me. It’s one of my ways of saying thank you for letting me borrow your ring.”
“You don’t have to do that.” Jan made no move to take it. “I was glad to be of help.” After a slight hesitation, “Did it help?”
“I’ll never have to worry about his bothering me again.”
“You must be the only woman in the world who wouldn’t want to be bothered by him.”
“Yes, well, you can stop salivating because beneath that gorgeous Spanish physique lurks a Machiavellian brain. He’s part Italian you know. Greer didn’t trust him the second we went on board the Piccione last June. I hate to admit it, but her instincts about that three-tongued Don Juan were right.”
“Three-tongued?”
“Yes. He can make love to a woman in French, Spanish and Italian.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Not at all. To my knowledge he speaks half a dozen romance languages fluently. Among his other, shall we say ‘nonsensual’ activities, he owns the Spanish-Portuguese Bank of Iberia, he’s a brilliant scholar of Latin and Arabic, and he has written several esoteric books on primogeniture and heraldry.”
“I didn’t think a man like him really existed.”
“Yeah, well, he’s an original all right.”
“What did he do that made you so furious?”
“He asked me to marry him.”
“You’re kidding!” Jan cried out again. “You lucky thing…”
“Before you get too excited, let me explain he’s in love with a woman who doesn’t love him. I think it’s a lie. I bet it’s a titled woman who can’t get out of her marriage.
“Anyway, he needs to find another woman quick so he won’t have to marry the sister of his dead fiancée. He just emerged from a year’s official mourning.”
“You mean people actually do things like that anymore?”
“Apparently the Pastrana family does. Now Don Juan is on the loose again. Since he had to come to New York on business, he picked on the last Duchess triplet to help him out of his latest scrape. Oh—and get this—” Piper let out an angry laugh. “He said it could be dangerous!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t laugh. What if the sister of his dead fiancée is the jealous type? Remember when Jim and I went to see Carmen at the Metropolitan Opera last month? She was a scary, fiery woman. Maybe this sister is so possessive, she’ll try to scratch your eyes out. What’s her name?”
“Camilla.”
“It doesn’t sound good.”
“Yeah, well, like I said, he won’t darken our doorstep again so none of it matters. Go enjoy your lunch!”
“Thanks. Can I bring you something to eat?”
“No, thanks. I’m not hungry.”
She expected Jan to leave, but she still hovered. “What’s the matter?” The subject of Don Juan was officially closed.
“Could I have my ring back? I’m afraid for Jim to see me without it.”
Piper felt the blood drain out of her face.
Slowly she staggered to her feet. “I—I don’t have it.” Jan looked stunned. “Nic does. What did he say to you on his way out?”
“He thanked me for my help and left.”
“Did he say where he was going?”
“No.”
Oh no. “Jan—”
Her