Bought: One Bride(8)

       

"Yes, really. And it's not too late. If you like, I could put you in touch with a good solicitor."

"No," she said, pulling a face and shaking her head. "No, it's too late  for that. Besides, Dad warned me never to take anyone to court. He said  the only ones who got rich from suing people were the lawyers."

Richard had to smile. That opinion was widely held by lots of people, but not true in the circles he moved in.

"That depends on the lawyer," he said, "but it's your call."

She sighed. "If only Dad had changed his will and left me a controlling  percentage of the business. I know that's what he intended to do. But,  of course, he wasn't expecting to have a stroke at fifty-five, no more  than my mother expected to be knocked down by a bus at twenty-five."

"You seem to have had some rotten luck in life, Holly."

"Things haven't been all that easy lately," she admitted.

"Why don't you tell your stepmother and stepsister to go to hell?"

"Trust me. I intend to one day. When the time is right. My plan is to  stay on where I am till I've found a new job and a new place to live.  That way I can go on living in the flat above the shop for nothing, and  save some more money. I think I should keep my big mouth shut till I'm  ready to move out, don't you?"

"No, I don't. I think you should tell them both exactly what you think  of them right now," he ground out. "Along with your bastard of an  ex-boyfriend!"

How he would have liked the opportunity to tell Joanna what he thought  of her! Instead, he'd had to grieve for her with all that bitterness  building up within him. Bitterness and bewilderment. Her betrayal still  ate away at him, whenever he thought about it. Why had she been  unfaithful to him? He'd thought she loved him. She'd said she did. And  acted as though she did.

But she couldn't have. Which meant she must have married him for his  money. And the prestige of being Mrs Richard Crawford. She'd certainly  loved their multimillion-dollar home at Palm Beach, and the wardrobe of  designer clothes she'd constantly added to. Joanna had always claimed  you could never wear the same dress twice when mixing with the high  echelons of Sydney society. Not a weekend had gone by that they weren't  going to some fancy dinner party, or gallery opening, or the races. Or  all three.

Richard hadn't been enamoured with that life, but he would have done  anything to make her happy. Love really did make a man blind. Women too,  he supposed. Clearly, Holly hadn't been able to see her ex-boyfriend's  true nature. Reading between the lines, it was obvious that this Dave  had thought Holly owned the flower shop, and had dropped her when he'd  discovered it was the stepmother-hence the stepsister-who'd inherited  everything.

"That's all very well for you to say, Richard," Holly pointed out, an  indignant colour creeping into her cheeks. "You have a great job,  according to your mother, and a great place to live, no doubt. You'd  never have to live in a crummy bedsit, which is what I'd be relegated to  if I shouted my mouth off prematurely. Connie would have me tossed out  in the street."

Richard almost offered her free room and board at his penthouse right then and there. His room, preferably.

For a few perverse seconds, he indulged in the erotic fantasy of taking  Holly back home with him tonight, of his taking off all her clothes and  taking her to bed for the rest of the weekend.

But that was all it was. A fantasy.

He could see she wasn't the kind of girl who jumped into bed with men at  the drop of a hat. Easy women, Richard realised, behaved very  differently from Holly. They flirted, for starters. Fluttered their  eyelashes and stroked male egos with constant verbal flattery. Joanna  had been brilliant at that, always telling him what an incredible lover  he was.

How many other men, he thought bitterly, had she said the same thing to?

Richard wondered if Holly was still in love with that bastard who'd  dumped her for her stepsister. Love didn't die just because someone had  done you wrong. Richard knew that for a fact.

Still, he was now convinced that romantic love was not the best  foundation for choosing a wife. Besides being based on emotion, it was a  poor judge of character.

Joanna's true character remained a mystery to him, whereas he already  knew Holly to be sweet and soft, without a greedy bone in her body.

She was also wonderfully vulnerable right now.

A quotation of Shakespeare's popped into his mind.





There is a tide in the affairs of men,

Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;                       
       
           



       

Omitted, all the voyage of their life

Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

On such a full sea are we now afloat,

And we must take the current when it serves,

Or lose our ventures.





Richard decided then and there not to let the grass grow under his feet  where Holly was concerned. It was clear he probably wasn't going to find  a wife from Wives Wanted. Which meant he had to find one the  old-fashioned way.

"You're right," he said. "There's nothing to be gained by shouting your  mouth off. Far better to outwit your enemies. I do that at the bank all  the time. So tell me, dear Holly, are you doing anything tonight? If  you're not, how about letting me take you somewhere nice for dinner?"





CHAPTER FIVE





HOLLY just stared at Richard.

"I've shocked you," he said.

What an understatement!

She continued to stare at him, her head spinning.

"Is there any reason why you can't come to dinner with me?" he went on. "Have you found a new boyfriend since Dave?"

"Heavens, no!"

"Then what's the problem? You don't like my company, is that it?"

"No, no, that's not it at all!" she blurted out before gaining control of her tongue. "I um … I'm just surprised, that's all."

Floored was a better word. Why on earth would a man like Richard  Crawford want to take a girl like her out to dinner? She wasn't a total  dimwit where men were concerned, even if Katie said she was.

It came to her then that maybe Mrs Crawford might have been wrong about  her son not looking at another woman since his wife died. It had been  eighteen months, after all. Eighteen months was a long time for a man of  Richard's age-of any age, for that matter-to go without a woman.

Could sex be the answer to the puzzle of his asking her out?

Holly knew she was a pretty enough girl, with nice eyes and the kind of  figure men had always been attracted to. She had never had any trouble  getting boyfriends. The trouble had always been keeping them.

Not that Richard Crawford would want to be her boyfriend. The idea was  ludicrous! He might, however, be on the lookout for a one-night stand. A  lot of men expected an after-dinner thank-you of sex these days.

Not that he would pressure her for it. Holly knew he wasn't that kind of  man. But he was still a man, a man in his physical prime, a man with  cold, sexy eyes and a great body and probably more sexual know-how than  any man Holly had ever been with.

So why wasn't she jumping at the chance? Hadn't she fantasised about just this kind of scenario?

Actually, no, she hadn't. Her fantasies had been of his falling in love  with her at first sight and wanting her till death did them part. Holly  always gave her fantasies a happily-ever-after ending, not a "thank you  for the sex but I don't want to see you any more" ending.

"What's worrying you?" Richard asked. "We're just talking dinner here."

"Are we?" she snapped before she could snatch the words back.

His eyes rounded slightly. Then he nodded. "Yes," he said. "We are."

Holly sighed. But was it with relief, or disappointment?

Still, she hesitated. Why, she wasn't sure. Maybe because she feared  having a taste of something that she'd always secretly craved, but which  had previously been well beyond her reach, even for a few short hours.  How would she feel when the evening was over and she never saw or heard  from Richard again?

At the same time, how would she feel if she said no and was left  wondering what even having dinner with a man like Richard Crawford was  like? He was sure to take her to a top restaurant in town, somewhere  elegant and expensive.

Dave had been the king of the take-away meal. Even then, she'd paid for  most of them. Holly knew she wouldn't have to pay for a single thing  tonight. Except perhaps emotionally.

But the temptation was too great. "All right," she said, a zing of  adrenaline sending her heart into a gallop with her surrender.

"Wonderful," he said, and glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. "It's  half-past five. Shall I pick you up at, say … seven-thirty?"

"Seven-thirty will be fine," she said, doing her best to sound all cool  and sophisticated, now that she'd accepted his invitation.

"How are you getting home?" he asked. "I didn't see a car outside when I opened the door."