Riley’s Billionaire (3 page)

Every reality show she had watched about extreme makeovers flitted through Riley’s mind. She wondered if there would be hidden cameras, showing what the working class girl looked like before and after her billionaire bride transformation. Did she really want her own vineyard badly enough to subject herself to such scrutiny?

She collected her jacket, purse, and signed documents, muttering, ‘Next you’ll try sending me through charm school, having my teeth capped, and giving me a nose job. Maybe even breast implants. I won’t do it — any of it!’ She tightened her lips stubbornly.

He stopped her midway through her heating up over the possibility he might try dressing her like a Barbie doll or worse a Playboy bunny. He held up a hand, as if about to speak, then used it to cover his mouth.

Riley widened her eyes in horror. This was her life, and the jerk was doing his best not to laugh, but his twinkling dark eyes and twitching lips couldn’t hide his amusement.

Jack retracted whatever action he was about to take and grasped her chin between thumb and forefinger. ‘Riley, there is nothing wrong with your...breasts, body, face, or teeth, and you are welcome to dress as you please while working.’

His hands moved toward her chest, cupped palms, and for a second, Riley thought he would touch her rather than simply use his hands to illustrate a point. Her breath hitched at the thought of those long fingers brushing against her — no, caressing her, and she trembled.

‘I sense a “but” coming. ‘ She jerked away and mimicked his earlier stance with arms defiantly folded, partly to cover her breasts, which felt exposed.

He stood back, giving her blessed distance from intimacy. ‘I shall, however, give some consideration to the charm school.’ With that, he laughed.

‘You couldn’t be bothered putting all of this in the papers you had me sign? You had to spring the shopping and how I’m expected to look and act after I signed?’

‘Such drama over a few clothes. I don’t think it’s necessary.’

Fuming, Riley turned toward the door. ‘Let’s spend your money before I change my mind.’

Jack recalled his last conversation with Maureen.
Take her on an excursion through the best stores in Sydney,
his mother had said.

My arse.

Riley detested shopping and spared no words letting him know. Gucci, Chanel, Dior, Hèrmes — didn’t matter where. Riley obliged him by modelling the clothes, but neither cashmere, nor silk, or any other expensive fabric suited her personal tastes. Leather handbags, stylish heels that made her legs delicious-looking — nothing wiped the scowl from her face.

She seemed less combative when he took her to a boutique on the outskirts of Sydney to be fitted for something to wear at their reception. The way her small hands drifted over the fitted bodice then the chiffon skirt of the material gave her an endearing fragility that weakened him like nothing had in years. Suddenly the enormity of what he asked of her registered, and their bargain was no longer solely about what he wanted. She was a bride for the first time, and if he were any kind of man he’d see to it that the experience was pleasant.

She looked up and caught him staring. As if he knew this was the dress and she wanted his approval, Jack nodded, and the smile of appreciation he offered was genuine.

She turned away from him. Were the tears glistening in her eyes ones of sadness that this would be a loveless marriage? Or was she simply overcome with emotion, as his mum said women were apt to be?

His multitude of thoughts triggered his own repressed emotions. Perhaps it was he who would stop the farce. How could he condemn her to trade her freedom, not to mention the possibilities of other suitors who’d be thrilled to take her as a wife, just so he could secure the highest position within Cadigal Valley’s enterprises?

He escorted Riley from one business to the other, feeling more and more like a cad.

When he dragged her into Tiffany’s, he thought she might call the whole thing off.

‘Really?’ Exasperation emanated from her every pore. ‘A wedding ring is not necessary.’ Suddenly, just as he was about to grant her leeway, Jack realised it mattered. Quite a lot. For one thing, no wife of his, even one as delightful and innocent as Riley, would strut about without what she might consider a matrimonial brand. Jack stiffened his spine. A ring symbolised that she belonged to him. He’d not embarrass her with anything gaudy, but by heaven she would wear his ring.

They eventually settled on a two-carat solitaire for her, and simple matching bands for them both. He could’ve chosen something more expensive, but he knew Riley would howl her displeasure at the ostentatious cost.

He had their purchases sent back to his hotel then addressed his own growing hunger. ‘Your coffee shop — they have food as well?’

‘I’m surprised. You seem more like a steak and potatoes man.’

He nodded. ‘I am, but the place we were at earlier is charming and you like it.’

Was that a reluctant smile tilting her delectable lips? Good. He liked her better when she wasn’t annoyed with him.

Riley seemed confused, so he gave her time to assimilate all that had transpired and concentrated on getting them back to George Street.

Once at the coffee shop, he reached across the table for her hands and clasped them between his own, unaware of rubbing them to take the chill away. He assumed she was cold, because she shivered.

‘Would you rather we ate indoors?’

Riley shook her head. ‘Here, please. I feel more comfortable outside.’

‘Ah. Walls. Do they make you claustrophobic?’

She shrugged. ‘A bit. I think I’m just hungry. It’s been an exhausting day.’

Jack rubbed her hands. ‘You’ve done well. I forgot, I wasn’t the one stepping in and out of clothes for hours.’

‘And parading about in heels.’

She sounded frustrated, but Jack caught the mischievous glimmer in her eyes.

‘Are the new clothes to your satisfaction?’

She pulled her hands from his. ‘Does it matter?’

‘Of course!’

Riley rubbed her temples. ‘I’m sorry for being grumpy. The gowns, dresses, hats...they’re all beautiful. I didn’t expect any of this. It’s hard to take in.’

‘You’re not used to so many gifts?’

‘Hardly. I’ve been on my own since I was seventeen. But you already knew that, didn’t you?’

Jack admitted she was right. ‘You must feel at a disadvantage.’

‘Ya think?’ Riley leaned forward, the first time since they’d met that she appeared to engage him in conversation. ‘I know less about you than I do the utility company personnel or my postman.’ She wrung her hands. ‘And I’m marrying you? I must be out of my mind. We did splurge a bit today, and I haven’t said thank you, which I should.’

He took advantage of her willingness to talk. ‘Skip the thank you for now. Why exactly did you spend my money? Was it just to humour me?’

‘Hardly. You’re a growly old cat, but you’re not that bad.’

He perked. ‘You’re comparing me to a feline?’

‘Panther to be precise. Relentless, ruthless. Waiting to pounce.’ Her shoulders visibly relaxed as she took a deep breath. ‘I’m sure you know the legend about the huge panther that’s lived in the Blue Mountains. Somehow I like to believe he’s real, dangerous or not. And you’re like that legend, a survivor.’

‘As are you,
chérie .’

She gave him a full-on stare. ‘I’m not ruthless. You are.’

Jack cocked his head, thinking. ‘Ruthless isn’t synonymous with cruel. Besides, aren’t you going after what you want, as well?’

‘My situation is different. I’m merely taking advantage of your offer. You, however instigated this arrangement, which makes me nervous, to be frank. I don’t believe you’re being totally honest with me.’

‘How so?’ Jack was genuinely concerned. ‘Was I rude? Did I insult you in any way?’

Riley lowered her gaze. ‘Our waitress is coming.’

‘Good. What would you like?’

To know you much better!
They’d been together three times in as many weeks, and while he seemed to know her well enough to help dress her, she hadn’t ferreted out from him any more than she had upon their initial meeting,

She gave her request quietly, still at odds with how she felt.

She didn’t know how to voice her concerns. Jack was right — he’d been the perfect gentleman, but this marriage proposal was disturbing. She had unanswered questions, such as...how long had he followed her? How had he found her, and what criteria had he used to choose her for his bride?

The prenuptial agreement had shocked her. The value he had placed on her participation was staggering and more than generous. Unless she conceived, in which case Jack would gain full custody should they divorce. She would receive adequate alimony and her possessions, but nothing else should she leave him for any reason.

Riley couldn’t consider giving up her child! The alternative would be to remain in a loveless marriage.

Or make damn certain she never got pregnant, and the only way to ensure that would be not to sleep with him. Riley took a shuddering breath. Not a problem. The man was too cold for words if he could barter over a child as if it were an article of clothing or some rare book.

Riley studied her engagement ring and weighed her options while Jack ordered. She had signed all the documents, agreed to his terms and signed the necessary Notice of Intended Marriage with him at the Registry office. Now she would have to keep her end of the bargain.

The fact that they were both willing to risk a pregnancy, to subject any child to separation from their mother or live in lonely luxury with both parents was unthinkable. Riley still couldn’t believe she had agreed to such a thing.

Startled, she realised Jack had spoken to her. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘You’ve still not mentioned what you intend to do with your personal belongings at your apartment. Do you need to pack them for storage? We can have everything shipped once we are home.’

Home.
‘Yes. Clothes, some books, nothing valuable. A few sentimental items.’

Jack sipped his wine. ‘I’ll have James go with you this evening.’

‘That isn’t necessary.’

He shook his head. ‘Nonsense, it’s no trouble at all. My driver can be here within the hour.’

She was surprised. ‘You mean today?’

Jack checked his watch. ‘I have a business meeting at seven tonight. I’ll have James see you home then pick you up tomorrow at ten. Does that work?’

‘What? No! You can’t expect me to pack up a life, change my mailing address, say goodbye to friends, all within the span of a few hours.’

Jack was as nonchalant and amenable as if they were making plans to visit the animal sanctuary south of the city. ‘Alright, then Monday. Our thirty-one days are up then. We should be able to pick up your dress, meet with the photographer I’ve hired, marry that afternoon, then be on our way to the vineyards.’

‘When did you hire this photographer?’ Riley eyed him suspiciously.

Jack swallowed the mouthful of vegetables before answering. ‘Promise you won’t be angry?’

‘No.’

‘Then I refuse to tell you.’

Riley’s brain rushed to keep up. He had been that sure of her? Was this how her life was to be? Constantly second-guessing his every move, wondering what calculations he made to get her to comply with his wishes?

‘Riley, your food is getting cold.’ He speared a chunk of salad from his plate and offered her a taste.

Suddenly she was no longer hungry. She considered rising, telling him in unladylike terms to
bugger off,
then leaving, but the man before her would probably sue her for breach of contract. In fact, she was sure of it. Wouldn’t do to have her name smeared throughout the country, especially when she’d be pounding the pavements, outback, and every dry creek bed in Australia, looking for employment once Jack was done with her.

Giving a saccharin smile, she refused his food as if it were a peace offering she wasn’t ready to accept.

She managed to rise on trembling legs. ‘If you’ll excuse me. I’ll be right back.’

Then she bolted for the lavatory, fearful of crying as her impending future with Jack Beauchamp encroached like a menacing demon ready to devour her.

Four days later, they picked up the dress which fit perfectly. The cocktail outfit would serve for both wedding and reception. They then spent an hour doing a photo shoot at the hotel. Riley moved as if in a whirlwind dream, feeling tossed from this place to that, allowing the photographer to position her, pose her, and primp her. Afterward, she and Jack left for the Registry office.

Jack took Riley’s left hand in his as the magistrate instructed him to place the band on her ring finger.

He held her shaking hand and squeezed. Once he had recited his vows, he murmured. ‘Calm down. It’s only business.’

Riley wanted to burst into tears, and her voice momentarily deserted her, so she nodded.
Only business.
Her virtue for a vineyard, and if she was really awful, a child in exchange for money.
Only business.
She’d yet to formulate opinions as to what family meant, since she had never had one, but this sure as hell wasn’t it.

Was this why her parents had given her to the orphanage? Had she fulfilled a business arrangement, and once she had served her purpose, were they done with her?

Startled, she realised it was her turn. She unsteadily repeated her vows, wavering on the last syllables, and nearly fainted. Jack clutched her hands to his chest, anchoring her.

With subtle voice, Jack reproached her. ‘Riley, you can’t throw up in the midst of our wedding.’

She kept her voice to a barely audible whisper. ‘That wasn’t spelled out in our contract.’

‘The promise to honour and obey — you just agreed.’

She glared at him, the first time she had made eye contact since the ceremony began. His voice was stern, commanding, but his eyes crinkled with suppressed laughter.

Determined to keep him from having fun at her expense, she took a couple of deep breaths and soldiered on until the magistrate was done. Thinking she had survived the ordeal, Riley realised too late that she’d not paid much notice to what came next.