Page 10 of Signed, Sealed, Married

Gisèle couldn’t believe her ears. ‘You think I’m that woman?’

‘I know you’re that woman. I’ve seen you in action. Unfazed by reporters, charming yet contained. Elegant, attractive and unflappable.’

At least he hadn’t lied by saying she was beautiful.

‘You want an excellent PR team if you’re worried about your image. Not a wife.’

His mouth twisted at one corner in amusement. ‘I know exactly what I want.You, Gisèle.’

It was a farce. He didn’t know her. Couldn’t wanther.

‘I’m not for sale.’ Still he said nothing, merely surveyed her with that irritating half-smile. ‘I’m not a company asset, included in the contract.’

She reached for her water and took a sip, then another. If it weren’t for the many people relying on this deal, she’d leave now. But she had a duty to them. And her family.

‘It’s nice you think so highly of me.’ Nice! It was paternalistic and infuriating. It made her blood boil. ‘But as a marriage isn’t going to happen, let’s return to business and discuss the contract instead.’

A smile was beyond her. Instead she picked up her cutlery and focused on loading vegetables onto her fork.

‘Sadly, I see no point.’

She looked up to see him drop his napkin onto the table and fold his arms. The gesture emphasised the breadth of his chest. More like a builder’s labourer than a businessman, but according to her research he’d started out working all sorts of jobs, including on building sites.

He wants you to ask why there’s no point discussing it.

For thirty seconds she kept silent, not wanting to give him what he expected.

But this isn’t about you. It’s about the company and everyone employed there.

‘No point? You’re happy to proceed with the contract as it stands?’

‘I’ve changed my mind. I won’t acquire the House of Fontaine. Not without you.’

He couldn’t be serious.

He couldn’t be...

The fine hairs at her nape rose and she shivered, looking into eyes as cold as a frost-bound alpine lake.

‘You actually mean it.’ Her voice sounded brittle, but maybe that was because of the blood rushing in her ears, impairing her hearing.

‘One thing you’ll learn about me, Gisèle, is that I always say what I mean. I’m a straightforward man.’

A deliberately outrageous, devious, egotistical man.

She felt as if the floor of the exclusive restaurant had opened up beneath her and she was in freefall, like Alice in that book her mother had read to her as a little girl.

If only she could wake up to discover this was a bad dream.

She surveyed the luxurious restaurant, almost hoping she was having some strange hallucination. But the murmur of contented voices, the chink of glass and cutlery, the glide of soft-footed wait staff between the tables was all as it should be. The only anomaly was here, where Adam Wilde demanded the impossible.

‘You won’t find me ungenerous,’ he said as if she’d actually agreed. ‘There’s more than enough money to keep you in the style to which you’re accustomed, far more in fact.’

Gisèle was bereft of words. Bad enough he thought her a well-dressed, well-mannered doll he could trot out in public. He added insult to injury by assuming she wanted his money.

The Fontaines had grown wealthy but she’d always worked hard, as much if not more than her colleagues. Besides, lately she and Julien had ploughed most of their personal funds into propping up the company.

‘It’s not a question of money, Mr Wilde.’

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