Wife by Contract, Mistress by Demand
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Carole Mortimer
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CHAPTER ONE
FIVE years later, as she gazed across the lawyer’s office at Rufus Gabriella knew that she still hated him!
‘If I could get straight on to the terms of Mr Gresham’s will…?’ David Brewster prompted politely once they were seated.
‘Go ahead,’ Rufus instructed tersely.
He didn’t want her here, Gabriella knew. Or his cousin Toby, if the way the two men had greeted each other a few minutes ago was anything to go by. On that she could agree with him however, after what Toby had done.
But although she knew Rufus wouldn’t believe her, she really wished she weren’t here.
Given a choice, she would rather James hadn’t died at all. She’d much rather he were still here giving her the fatherly advice and love that she had found so invaluable since her mother’s death a year ago.
James had been devastated after Heather was killed in a car crash last year, and never really seemed to fully recover from the blow. He had suffered a heart attack six months later, and then another, fatal one, a month ago.
No, given a choice Gabriella would rather have had both James and Heather still alive than being summoned to this lawyer’s office—as must Rufus and Toby have been—at this time, on this day, for a meeting about James’s will.
She and Rufus hadn’t spoken at all since they had arrived separately. As they hadn’t spoken for the last five years. As they wouldn’t ever speak again once this last link with James was severed.
David Brewster’s expression was grave as he opened the official-looking document on top of his desk to look at them over the top of the half-moon glasses he had perched on top of his nose. ‘First things first,’ he said slowly. ‘I have already informed by letter the recipients of small bequests in Mr Gresham’s will, members of the household staff and suchlike,’ he dismissed. ‘And there is, of course, a trust fund for his granddaughter Holly, to be administered by her father and myself until she is of an age to receive the bulk capital.’
‘Lucky old Holly,’ Toby said cheerfully, an actor by profession, his dark good looks unfortunately not matched in talent, meaning that he was very often ‘resting’ rather than actually working. ‘Pity she isn’t eighteen rather than seven, then I could have married her!’
‘Over my dead body!’ Rufus growled in response.
‘If necessary,’ Toby came back tauntingly.
Gabriella barely listened to the exchange, her earlier tension rising to an unbearable pitch as David Brewster dismissed so lightly those ‘small bequests’.
What did that mean?
That she was a recipient of a large bequest…?
If so, Rufus was just going to dislike her more than ever.
If that were possible!
Rufus’s gaze narrowed on the elderly lawyer. ‘Can I ask if this is a recent will of my father’s?’
‘Indeed it is, Mr Gresham,’ the lawyer answered him lightly. ‘In fact, it’s dated only two months before your father’s death.’
Rufus’s uneasiness about the contents of his father’s will increased.
Of course, that uneasiness could have something to do with the fact that Toby, his disreputable cousin and a constant sponge on James’s good will until uncle and nephew had fallen out about three months ago, was also here.
And Gabriella…
He had rarely seen her the last five years, Gabriella having lived and trained as a chef in France for three years after that…incident…in Majorca, and their paths had rarely crossed since she came back to England to live two years ago.
But whenever they had chanced to meet, he had been very aware of the burning intensity of her dislike.
Those five years had done nothing to lessen her beauty, he noted clinically as he looked at her between narrowed lids. In fact if anything she was even more beautiful, none of that youthful eagerness in her face now as she sensed his gaze on her and turned to look at him challengingly.
Her hair was still that gloriously wild cascade of ebony curls loose down her back, but her slenderness was now of almost model-like proportions, her face thinner, too, making those violet-coloured eyes look bigger, her cheeks slightly hollow, her chin more pointed, with only the full, sensual pout of her lips remaining the same.
And he remembered every silken inch of that delectable body, now hidden beneath fitted black trousers and a red gypsy-style blouse that emphasized the fullness of her breasts.
His mouth curled self-derisively as he turned away abruptly, not wanting to dwell on memories of how it had felt to touch her there.
Gabriella saw that scorn on Rufus’s face before he turned his attention back to the lawyer, easily able to guess the reason for it. Rufus still believed her to be nothing but a money-grasping little witch.
‘Now we come to the reason I asked to speak to you all today,’ the lawyer continued briskly. ‘Mr Gresham was most specific that I speak to the three of you alone concerning this matter. I’m sure that once I have explained the contents of the will to all of you it will become clear as to the reason why he made that request,’ he added ruefully.
Gabriella felt her stomach muscles clench, filled with a terrible premonition.
David Brewster nodded briskly. ‘You may read the will for yourselves, but the main provisions are as follows: To his two children, namely Rufus James Gresham and Gabriella Maria Lucia Benito, Mr Gresham leaves the bulk of his estate—some fifty million pounds at the time the will was made—’
‘Will you marry me, Gabriella?’ Toby put in facetiously.
Gabriella didn’t even qualify the question with an answer, Toby knowing of the complete loathing she felt towards him after he had tried to force himself on her three months ago.
Besides, she was too stunned to do any more than stare disbelievingly at David Brewster!
‘If I might continue…?’The lawyer gave Toby a disapproving look above those half-moon glasses. ‘All properties, overseas and in England, are to be equally divided between the above-named children, with the exception of the family-owned stores of Gresham’s both in England and New York which are to become the property of Rufus James Gresham, at the end of six months, provided that Rufus and Gabriella have lived together in Gresham House for the duration of that time as husband and wife. Those monies and said properties, and all monies owing, will become forfeit to Mr Gresham’s nephew, Tobias John Reed, if this above condition is not met—Did you say something, Miss Benito?’ the lawyer asked kindly.
Had she groaned out loud? If she had, she hadn’t meant to, aware that both Rufus and Toby were now looking at her curiously, too. ‘No, nothing,’ she quietly assured the elderly lawyer.
But she inwardly cringed, knowing exactly what James meant by ‘all monies owing’.
Shortly after her mother’s death a year ago Gabriella had attained a bank loan with which to open up her own restaurant, something she had always wanted to do. She had finally felt that she had enough experience to do it, but from the start everything had gone disastrously wrong.
The builder making the alterations on the property she had leased for a year had run way over budget, and then downed tools until she paid up.
There had been a fire in the kitchen prior to opening night meaning that she’d had to hastily—and expensively—bring in new appliances.
And then two months after opening an employee had swindled a customer out of five thousand pounds on their credit card. The customer had refused to be compensated and had sued instead, with the case being reported in all the newspapers, totally tarnishing the reputation of Benito’s and closing her down within a month because there had been simply no customers for her to cook for.
All of which had left her with a thirty-thousand-pound loan from the bank, and only the wages from the job she had managed to secure as assistant chef in someone else’s bistro with which to pay it.
James had stepped into the breach and rescued her from sure disaster. But only, at Gabriella’s insistence, on the condition that they had a legal contract between them that she would eventually pay the money back to him.
A legal contract stating exactly what ‘monies’ were ‘owing’…
And if she didn’t live with Rufus as his wife for six months she would owe that money to Toby, of all people. A man she despised even more than she did Rufus.
She glanced across at Rufus beneath lowered lashes, knowing by the expression on that arrogantly handsome face that he definitely hadn’t missed her pained groan. And wondered at the reason for it…
Although that emotion was eclipsed by the glittering anger he now directed at her.
‘Did you know about this?’ he demanded coldly, standing up in restless movements.
Gabriella blinked at his attack, her face very pale, and her violet-coloured eyes so dark they were purple smudges in the pallor. ‘I should have guessed you would somehow blame me,’ she gasped.
‘Who else can I blame?’ he came back scathingly. ‘My father is beyond recrimination. Leaving you as the only one left with anything to gain by this!’ His hands were clenched at his sides.
Never, in all his wildest imaginings, had he believed his father could do something so—so incredibly destructive!
Gabriella gave a hard, humourless laugh. ‘You don’t seriously think I would ever choose to marry you, Rufus!’
Rufus continued to breathe deeply for several long seconds, striving for some sort of control, aware of where they were, of their audience, Toby avidly enjoying the altercation, David Brewster obviously disturbed by it.
And, no, he didn’t suppose Gabriella would choose to marry him. Not any more. Not after the way he had deliberately humiliated her in Majorca five years ago.
Deliberately.
Because he never had been as immune to this exotically beautiful woman as he gave the outward impression he was. And her response to him had been mind-blowing, more so than anything he had known before, or since.
But he was always very aware that Gabriella was Heather Benito’s daughter, the child of the woman who had taken money from his father before the two of them were even married, and not a small amount, either.
But his father had been so besotted with his second wife, so blind to anything but the fact that he loved Heather, that he had been totally devastated when she had died, to the point that he had almost seemed to cease to function.
Except, it seemed, to write this incredible clause in his will tying Rufus to Gabriella for six months. As her husband, for God’s sake!
He turned to look at her scathingly. ‘Oh, come on, Gabriella,’ he taunted. ‘We both know to what lengths you’re willing to go if you consider the prize big enough!’
Her violet-coloured eyes seemed to burst into flames at his implication. ‘You absolute bast—’
‘Poor Gabriella,’ he scorned. ‘Couldn’t you have come up with something more original than that in the last five years?’
Her nostrils flared. ‘Why bother, when the description fits you so perfectly?’
‘Oh, dear.’ David Brewster’s mild, slightly flustered voice broke into the stormy scene before Rufus could come back with his own cutting reply. ‘It would seem that Mr Gresham may have made an error in judgement concerning his wishes for the two of you.’
‘Not at all,’ Rufus assured the older man grimly. ‘My father was fully aware of the—enmity, that exists between Gabriella and myself.’
And James, Rufus knew, had always been deeply saddened at the obviously strained relationship between the two of them.
His father had also advised Rufus numerous times that he ought to remarry, if only to give his now seven-year-old over-indulged daughter a stepmother. A suggestion that Rufus had told him he had no intention of complying with after his experience with Angela.
But James, it seemed, had decided to try and rectify both these situations, after his death, by making this ridiculous condition about Rufus and Gabriella marrying each other in order for them to gain their inheritance.
With the forfeit that Toby would inherit everything instead if they didn’t!
Something that James had known that Rufus wouldn’t—couldn’t—allow to happen. James had held no illusions about the irresponsible Toby, either, and had known that he would ruin Gresham’s in a year and have squandered the money away not long after!
The money wasn’t important, because Rufus had enough money of his own without needing any of his father’s, and the properties in Surrey, Aspen, Majorca and the Bahamas weren’t important to him, either. But the two Gresham’s stores were different. He had put everything he had into those two stores the last six years, made them more successful than ever, and he refused to let a total wastrel like his cousin Toby just walk in and ruin them.
To the point where he would be willing to marry and live with Gabriella, even for six months, in order to keep them? To live in close proximity with her, day after day, for her to become his wife—something he’d sworn he would never have again! Was he willing to do that…?
‘I really had no idea.’ The lawyer looked at them frowningly. ‘I must admit I thought it rather strange. Nothing I said would deter Mr Gresham from making these particular arrangements in his will, I’m afraid.’ He shook his head sadly.
But why wouldn’t it? Gabriella questioned, incredulous. What on earth had James hoped to achieve by making such an unacceptable clause in his will?
Because it was unacceptable to both Rufus and Gabriella. As poor David Brewster had just been made a witness to!
Although Rufus now looked self-disgusted that the outburst had been made at all. He was a man who preferred to keep his emotions under control, Gabriella knew. Only she, it seemed, and the prospect of having to marry her, had the power to make him forget that normally cool reserve!
‘There has to be some way out of this.’ She looked at the lawyer beseechingly.
‘I’m afraid not, Miss Benito.’ He grimaced. ‘I drew Mr Gresham’s will up myself, and I can assure you there is no get-out clause, no room for manoeuvre—’
‘No two hundred pounds when you pass go,’ Toby put in dryly, obviously enjoying this situation immensely.
But then, he would. To by enjoyed nothing more than dissension and disharmony—even more so if he was the cause of it!
As he had been three months ago…
Which was the reason that forfeit to Toby didn’t make any sense to Gabriella. James had been furious with his nephew before he’d died, and wouldn’t even have him in the house after what he had tried to do to Gabriella. He certainly wouldn’t want Toby to inherit the Gresham’s stores, the money, or property.
So why had James put such an ironclad clause in his will…?
Because he had known neither Rufus or Gabriella would want Toby to inherit the Gresham’s stores, the money or property!
But he also knew that Rufus and Gabriella didn’t like each other.
He knew it, but hadn’t been happy about it, as he would rather they had all been one big happy family. It was what he had always wanted.
Enough to force Rufus and Gabriella into marrying each other?
A move guaranteed to increase their dislike of each other rather than nullify it!
‘What’s the matter, Gabriella?’ Rufus taunted softly. ‘Is marriage to me no longer part of your plans?’
It had never been the plan he was implying it was. She had fallen in love with him six years ago, had loved him five years ago, had thought their being together that day in Majorca had meant that he was in love with her, too. A futile hope, as he had so cruelly pointed out!
Her chin rose to meet his challenge. ‘No more than marriage to me has ever been in yours!’
‘Not at all, then,’ he drawled dismissively.
‘Exactly,’ she was stung into snapping.
‘Isn’t this fun?’ Toby said to no one in particular. ‘Of course, the two of you could just save yourself the trouble of even trying to live together—an exercise obviously doomed to failure before you begin!—and just hand all that lovely loot over to me right now!’
‘Miss Benito and Mr Gresham have a week in which to come to their decision,’ David Brewster put in firmly before either Rufus or Gabriella could make a reply.
‘Oh, I think I can wait a week.’ Toby nodded, totally unperturbed by the animosity surrounding him as he grinned happily.
‘There is one other stipulation in Mr Gresham’s will that I think you should both be made aware of before coming to that decision.’ The lawyer had obviously decided to ignore Toby’s comments.
‘Let’s hear it,’ Rufus muttered wearily.
‘The two Gresham’s stores will, as already stated, at the end of the stipulated six months of marriage become the sole property of my son Rufus James Gresham, but the restaurant within the Gresham’s store in London is to be refurbished, renamed Gabriella’s, and opened to the public as such and leased in perpetuity to Gabriella Maria Lucia Benito, then to be named Gabriella Gresham.’
Rufus drew in a sharp breath. ‘In other words, my father isn’t just expecting me to marry and live with Gabriella for six months, he’s expecting me to work with her, too? Indefinitely!’ He spoke with icy control, determined not to give way a second time to the impotent fury he felt, although he could feel a nerve pulsing in his tightly clenched jaw.
‘That is so, yes,’ David Brewster confirmed ruefully.
‘Could I just point out that he’s expecting me to live and work with you, too?’ an obviously agitated Gabriella put in forcefully.
She hadn’t expected that clause in his father’s will, either, Rufus acknowledged cynically. She had probably expected to just be able to walk away with her share.
He certainly hadn’t missed her involuntary reaction to the mention of ‘monies owing’ in his father’s will. Surely his father hadn’t been stupid enough to lend Gabriella money? Money that he must have known would never be repaid?
Rufus looked across at her with cold green eyes, totally unmoved by the pallor in her cheeks. ‘I already run Gresham’s, already own my own home, already have my own fortune—which one of us stands to gain more here, do you think?’
‘You see?’ Toby put in again mildly. ‘Not a hope in hell of the two of you living together for six months without killing each other! Although,’ he added consideringly, ‘as that would probably mean that I still inherit—’
‘I really don’t think those sorts of comments are of any help to this situation whatsoever, Mr Reed,’ the lawyer rebuked, obviously having reached the end of his patience. ‘I suggest that we meet back here one week from today, at the same time, Miss Benito and Mr Gresham,’ the lawyer continued crisply. ‘Then the two of you can give me your answer. Your presence will not be needed at that time, Mr Reed,’ he added disapprovingly.
They could form a club, Rufus mused hardly.
‘There’s nothing else in my father’s will, no more hidden conditions or clauses,’ he prompted hardly, ‘that we should be made aware of, is there, before reaching that decision?’
David Brewster met his gaze steadily, seeming to hesitate briefly before answering him. ‘No, I can assure you there is nothing further in Mr Gresham’s will that concerns any of you,’ he said evenly.
‘How about the three of us go out to lunch together to talk about this?’ Toby suggested brightly as he stood up to leave.
Gabriella knew that any food she tried to eat right now would probably choke her. And just the thought of having lunch with Toby, a man she totally loathed after he had tried to force her into making love with him, made her feel nauseous.
‘I think not,’ Rufus was the one to answer sharply, surprising Gabriella by taking a steely hold of her arm. ‘Gabriella and I obviously have a few things we need to talk about, but, as David has already pointed out, your part in these proceedings is over, Toby,’ he added pointedly.
Gabriella looked up at him frowningly. She didn’t want to go anywhere with Rufus, either. As for his fingers tightly clasped about her arm…!
Her chin was once again raised determinedly as she tried to break that steely grip. And failed.
Something that made Toby give another unconcerned grin. ‘Just let me know when the two of you decide not to get married.’
Married.
The word echoed inside Gabriella’s head.
To Rufus.
Just putting the words together—’married’ and ‘to Rufus’—was enough to send a shiver of alarm down her spine.
But she hadn’t always thought so; she would once have been overjoyed at the thought of being Rufus’s wife.
Before she’d learnt to hate him.
Before she’d known how much he hated her.
Toby was right; she and Rufus didn’t stand a chance of succeeding in living together as husband and wife for six months!
