Page 66 of Bride Under Contract

‘Because...’ he tried to keep his voice patient ‘...we are going to be marrying, and divorcing, and presumably sleeping together.’ He was not going to startle her before they even got out of the stalls. ‘Let’s get some breakfast.’

They headed up to the restaurant, and as they were led to their table Grace looked at all the busyness and inhaled the scents. He seemed so at ease here.

‘I don’t know where to start...’ she admitted, eyeing the gorgeous buffet.

As it turned out, his schedule was too tight for a buffet, and she was back to looking at menus again.

‘I just want toast,’ she said.

‘No coffee?’ He frowned.

‘Tea,’ Grace said. She was a bundle of nerves as it was.

She ordered exactly that when the waiter came.

Carter, though, appeared starving—from all the sex they hadn’t had this morning? He ordered nasi lemak, and she wondered how he had the stomach for such a spicy dish so early, and how he had not even a hint of the nerves she was feeling...

‘We’re having dinner with them after,’ he told her.

‘Who?’

‘Jonathon and Ruth—my lawyer and his wife.’

She shook her head as if to clear it. ‘Seriously?’

Carter saw her shaking hand as she attempted to add marmalade to her toast, and knew he needed this to work.

‘He might ask about your father,’ he warned her.

‘He can ask,’ Grace said. ‘I have no idea where he is.’

‘You know once this hits the news there’s a chance he’ll get in touch?’

‘I don’t care.’ She shrugged. ‘Honestly, I have nothing to say to him.’ She poured some tea. ‘I last saw him in the interval of a pantomime. He popped out to get a drink.’

Carter waited. ‘And...?’ he prompted.

‘That was it.’ She added sugar to her tea. ‘I must be boring company, because I haven’t seen him since. I don’t care if he gets in touch, or pleads for money, or tells whatever lie he comes up with...’

‘So, I don’t have to ask his permission?’

‘No!’ she replied hotly, and then looked up as if she’d realised it was she who had missed a small joke.

This time she didn’t smile back.

‘Excuse me for a moment,’ Carter said.

He didn’t explain where he was going and neither did she ask. There were several meeting rooms off the corridor just down from the restaurant—places to withdraw for private discussions or to toast success...

Jonathon was already there, of course.

A gleaming desk was all set up—there was a delicate floral arrangement as well as a jug of iced tea and pretty glasses, water and notepads. But for all the luxury and creature comforts he knew that to Grace this would appear as clinical as a hospital... Or rather that the topics about to be discussed would not be softened by the surroundings.

‘Ready when you are,’ Jonathon informed him.

Despite his somewhat genial appearance, Carter knew that Jonathon’s mood could and often did quickly change. He had been on his side since he’d come out of the jungle, an orphaned eight-year-old with a fortune ripe to be misused by others.

‘We can expect some pushback from Benedict, but—’

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