Her breath caught in her throat at the sheer arrogance of his brutally realistic comment. ‘That’s totally stupid. You can’t just walk in here and say you want to marry me, simply to get your hands on the Manor House. Anyway, what the Major is suggesting isn’t fair. You are his son, you are entitled to the estate. You shouldn’t be forced to marry me to get it.’
‘Not much is fair in this world, Josie, as I think you’re beginning to find out,’ he offered dryly, before adding, ‘But there’s no force involved on my part. I want to marry you. You’re a very lovely girl, and I can think of a hundred more selfish reasons for wanting you as my wife.’
She closed her eyes for a second, his words forcibly reminding her of the hopelessness of her own situation. When she opened them he was watching her, the expression in his dark eyes, so oddly flecked with gold, seeming sincere, and yet there was something more she could not name in their mysterious depths. She was tempted to agree to marry him. It would solve all her problems. But the memory of the one night she’d spent with Charles rose up in her mind,
and she did not fancy repeating the experience. She couldn’t...
‘So what is it to be, Josie? You help me and I swear I will take great care of you.’
‘I couldn’t. I hardly know you. I—well...’ She slid to a halt, unable to find the words. He said he thought she was lovely and he had other reasons for wanting to marry her. Did he expect her to go to bed with him ? She didn’t know and she wasn’t about to ask. As far as she was concerned it wasn’t an option. But as if he could read her mind Conan went on.
‘If it’s sharing a bed with me that’s bothering you, forget it. Not that I wouldn’t mind if you did.’ He gave her a very masculine grin. ‘But I promise I wouldn’t dream of making you do anything you didn’t want to. You have my word on it.’
Josie wasn’t sure she believed him. It struck her quite forcibly that Conan wasn’t the sort of man to be celibate for very long. In her friend Zoe’s parlance the man was hot and even Josie, who was off sex for life, could sense the virile sexuality of the man. So it followed he must have a girlfriend somewhere. No sooner had the thought entered her head than she was voicing it.
‘But surely a man of your age must have a woman in his life, someone who might object to you up and marrying an almost total stranger?’ Josie was young but she wasn’t stupid. She’d seen the way Conan looked at her, and she doubted very much he went through life like a monk.
‘No, there is no one of any importance, but if you’re asking for my sexual history I’ve had two what you might call long-term relationships, neither of which included sharing my home with the lady in question.’ His dark eyes fixed on her flushed face. ‘You, on the other hand, will share my home when we marry, and you can count on my fidelity as much as I can count on yours. Satisfied?’
‘As long as it is only your home and not your bed,’ she said bluntly, not entirely sure she liked his answer.
‘Good. I knew you would see sense. Now, if you have no further questions I will get everything arranged.’
‘Wait a minute. I never said I would marry you.’ She eased a little further back along the sofa, putting more space between them. ‘I need time to think.’
He noted her furtive shuffle with the sardonic arch of one black brow. ‘Take as long as you like.’ And, glancing at the fine gold watch on his wrist he added, ‘As long as it’s no more than sixty seconds.’
Arrogant devil, she thought, but she also thought of her father, and the worry she was causing him, and her unborn child. How easy it would be to pass all her troubles on to someone else’s shoulders, and Conan’s were broad enough, she thought, glancing at his physique—so strong, so protective. But...and it was a big but...she didn’t love Conan, . and he didn’t love her. But then she had thought she’d loved Charles, and look where that had got her. In this mess. She wasn’t a coward, and she wasn’t afraid of hard work. She had looked after her ageing father for the past few years as well as holding down a job.
The trouble, Josie realised, was that it was a catch-22 situation. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. If she refused to marry Conan and her child was a boy, the estate would come to her, and she would look like the worst kind of gold-digger. If she did marry Conan just for the sake of the baby, was that any better?
She wanted the very best for her child, and if that meant living with Conan for a year or so, would that be so bad? She thought of her father earlier, blaming himself for her predicament, feeling guilty because he was convinced he had neglected her in some way and betrayed his late wife’s trust. It would put her father’s mind at ease if she married Conan, she knew. The Major and Conan would be satisfied, and realistically her one brush with sex had put her off for life. She could not see herself falling in love and marrying in the normal course of events, not any more...
‘If, if I agreed...’ His dark eyes flared triumphantly, and one of his large hands caught her left hand in his. Josie shivered. ‘I said if,’ she reiterated. ‘I need to know a lot more about the nuts and bolts of the arrangement. For example, I have a job.’
Conan squeezed her hand. ‘Josie, I know you’re a legal secretary at Brownlow’s law firm in Cheltenham, and I would never deprive you of a career. You are simply creating difficulties where none exist Ours will be a straightforward marriage of convenience.’
‘A marriage of convenience,’ Josie murmured. She liked the sound of that. ‘A straightforward business arrangement, you mean?’ she asked glancing up at him.
‘Of course,’ he confirmed lightly, his dark eyes holding hers.
‘In that case, yes, all right.’ She could live with that for the benefit of her child.
‘Good. I’m glad we are agreed. Now, for the sake of the Major and your own father, it would obviously be better if you came and lived in my house in London until after the birth of your child.’
‘Wait a minute.’ Josie pulled her hand from his. ‘Move? I thought the whole idea was you wanted the Manor and you just agreed I could keep my job?’
Conan sat back on the sofa. ‘I do want the Manor, but have you looked at the place lately? My father has not spent a penny on it in years. It needs a complete overhaul, and until that is done London is the obvious place to be as my work is there. As for your job—what I said was, I would never deprive you of a career. In principle, I believe in a woman working, fulfilling her potential. But you’d have to leave your present job in a few months anyway when your condition becomes obvious, and you don’t need me to tell you what the gossip mill is like around here.’
He was right about the gossip; the locals would be counting the days from the wedding to the birth. Not that Josie cared. But her father would and Conan might. She had rarely heard his name mentioned—he was obviously the expert at avoiding gossip, and she had a vague idea he’d lived abroad for a long time. Suddenly Josie realised she knew very little about him. ‘What do you actually do?’ she blurted.
‘Come now, Josie, surely you know.’ he prompted.
‘No, I don’t,’ she snapped back, aware of the cynicism in his tone.
‘I work in a bank,’ he replied. ‘A merchant bank.’
‘Oh; my father did that until he retired.’ And somehow the thought that Conan and her father shared the same career made Josie feel more kindly disposed towards him.