The Billionaire's Bride of Convenience(19)

Kathryn sat down at a square table with four chairs, because that way Hugh couldn’t sit down too close to her.





He was right. He didn’t take long.





Kathryn tried not to stare as he carried two steaming black mugs towards her. But it was fascinating, in a way, how he was suddenly affecting her. All these months, she’d felt absolutely nothing in his presence. Well, nothing except irritation. Now there was a definite quickening of her pulse-rate as he drew closer.





Of course, he was drop-dead handsome. More so than Daryl, who’d been good-looking but not perfect, by any means. Body- wise there was simply no comparison. Hugh had it all. His face could not be faulted, either, his strongly masculine features softened by his sensual mouth and the way he wore his wavy, dark brown hair, flopping across his high forehead from a side parting. This style drew added attention to his eyes, which were a piercing blue, their impact heightened by darkly fringed lashes.





There’d been a time when Kathryn hadn’t been in the least turned on by her handsome boss. But that time wasn’t today.





‘Hope I got it right,’ he said as he placed the mugs on the table, then pulled out a chair. ‘I know you drink it black but wasn’t totally sure about the sugar content.’





‘Two,’ she told him.





‘I got it right, then,’ he said, smiling. ‘So what do you think of Dad’s pad?’





‘I like the terrace, and the garden. But inside, it’s a bit um ’





‘Soulless?’





Her eyebrows lifted. She hadn’t been expecting him to say that.





‘All Dad’s houses are like that.’





‘How many has he got?’ she asked as she picked up her mug.





‘Too many to count. The upkeep costs him an absolute fortune. But we haven’t come up here to talk about dear old Dad. I want to hear that long story of yours. I’m intrigued.’





Intrigued was a good word, Hugh decided as he waited for her to stop sipping her coffee and start talking. Everything about Kathryn was beginning to intrigue him. He hadn’t realised till today how little he actually knew about her. His knowledge of her life so far was limited to the facts on her résumé, plus what he’d garnered during their occasional coffee breaks together. He knew her father had died years before and her mother more recently. He knew she didn’t have any brothers or sisters and something about her relationship with the horrid Daryl, of course. And about her marriage plans, which would not now, of course, be taking place.





Hugh tried to feel some guilt over his pleasure at Kathryn being suddenly single again, but failed. When he looked at her all he felt was a desire so intense that he sometimes wondered how she couldn’t sense it.





‘If I tell you,’ she said at last, her tone taut and edgy, ‘promise you won’t judge me.’





Now he was even more intrigued.





‘I can’t imagine you doing anything seriously wrong, Kathryn.’





‘Not wrong exactly ’ She sighed. ‘Look, to cut a long story short, in July last year an old lady I knew died and left me her house in her will, provided I married by the time I was thirty. If that date passes and I’m still single, the house will eventually be sold off and the proceeds given to cancer research.’





Hugh was totally taken aback. ‘Is that legal?’





‘Apparently so. I did ask.’





‘And?’





‘It was around that time that I said yes to Daryl’s proposal.’





Hugh frowned. ‘Are you saying you never loved Daryl? That you were only marrying him to get your hands on this house?’





‘See?’ she snapped. ‘I knew you’d think that.’





‘What am I supposed to think?’





‘I honestly thought I loved him,’ she insisted fiercely.





‘But you didn’t.’





‘I can see now that I probably didn’t. I’m not heartbroken this morning. Not about him, anyway. Just about the the ’





‘The house,’ he finished for her.





‘Yes,’ she said with a long, shuddering sigh.





‘So where is this house?’





‘Pearl Beach.’





Hugh’s eyebrows arched. He’d heard of Pearl Beach. An artist friend of his had a holiday place up there. From what he gathered, it cost a lot to live there.





‘I see,’ he murmured.





‘No, you don’t,’ Kathryn said irritably. ‘You can’t possibly. You don’t know me. You have no idea why I would do such a thing. It has nothing to do with greed, or materialism. I would never sell the house. Never! Val knew that. It’s ’ She shrugged helplessly. ‘Oh, what’s the use? It’s too late now.’