The Monte Carlo Proposal. Lucy Gordon

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The Monte Carlo Proposal - Lucy  Gordon


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at any moment, but in the meantime I’m taking her below before she gets pneumonia.’

      He whisked me away, giving nobody the chance to say anything.

      If I’d had any lingering doubts about who he was they were quelled as soon as I saw his cabin—although suite would be a better word. The decor was vaguely ancient Roman, and the last word in luxury. There was a bathroom with a sunken bath, and taps that looked like solid gold.

      A quick inspection proved that they really were. I told you, I’m an expert on these things.

      ‘Mr Bullen—?’

      ‘After what went on in the boat, don’t you think you should call me Jack?’

      ‘Jack—and, by the way, you should have warned me that my name is Cindy.’

      ‘It isn’t. That’s just what Grace calls you. I’m afraid she means it as a put-down. What’s your real name?’

      ‘Della Martin.’

      ‘Fine.’ He pointed at my dress. ‘Take that off—quickly.’

      ‘I beg your pardon?’

      ‘Before you catch your death of cold.’ He took a large white towelling robe from the closet. ‘Then have a hot bath and put this on.’

      ‘Lovely,’ I said, shivering. ‘I can’t get over this place. I thought you were poor.’

      ‘Does that matter? You think I need help less than a poor man? I need it more. If I didn’t have any money I wouldn’t have a problem. Selina’s father is a banker, and they all want me to make an “alliance” with the family. I’m trapped. What can I do? I don’t want to be outright rude.’

      ‘Why not?’

      He sighed.

      ‘I’m not very good at it,’ he admitted, sounding slightly ashamed. ‘Not with Grace, anyway. She keeps reminding me that she’s been my second mother. It’s easier to play dumb and let her realise gradually that she’s wasting her time. So now you’re my best hope—my only hope.’

      ‘She isn’t going to be easily fooled.’

      ‘She never was,’ he said with a reminiscent sigh.

      As if to prove it there was a step outside and the sound of someone trying to open the locked door. Then his sister’s voice.

      ‘Jack, open this door at once. We have to talk.’

      ‘Not just now, Grace,’ he called back. ‘We’ll talk later.’

      ‘I said now.’ The lock rattled again. ‘Open this door at once.’

      ‘Goodnight, Grace.’

      This time there was iron in his voice, and anyone else would have been deterred by it. But not her.

      ‘I’m not going away until we’ve had this out,’ she called. ‘You may think you’ve got me fooled, but I don’t believe a word about this woman who’s appeared so conveniently. She’s probably some cheap little waitress you picked up somewhere. Open this door!’

      He ground his teeth. My temper was rising. I’d never disliked anyone so much after such a short time as I did this woman.

      ‘Goodnight, Grace,’ he called again.

      ‘Open this door!’

      ‘That’s it,’ I muttered. ‘Now I’m mad. It’s time for action.’

      He looked nervous. ‘Are you going to be violent?’

      ‘If necessary. Come here!’

      I reached for him, hooking my arm about his neck, drawing him very close, very fiercely. He barely had time to draw breath, but after that I think I managed to make him forget about breathing. When we parted he was gasping.

      ‘I hope I’m never the one you’re mad at,’ he managed to say.

      ‘Shut up!’

      I returned to the action, but this time I freed one hand and unlocked the door, so that Grace came marching in to find us wrapped in each other’s arms.

      I did it purely out of expediency. He’d been good to me, and I was going to be good to him. It had nothing whatever to do with the way he’d kissed me in the boat. I was not looking for an excuse to do it again.

      And you can believe that or not—as you like.

      With the audience being closer this time, we had to make it look realistic, and he really worked at that. I could feel his hands roving all over me, and I wondered how much more my nervous system could stand in one evening.

      Grace, I’m happy to say, nearly went ballistic. She stood there yelling, ‘Will you stop this and listen to me?’

      I don’t know how long she kept it up. Everything was fuzzy, and I was only vaguely aware when she stopped abruptly and a man’s voice said, ‘Jack!’

      We managed to disengage ourselves, and I saw a young man and woman whom I’d vaguely noticed on deck. Now, as then, they were holding hands. They seemed to come as a pair.

      ‘There’s someone to see you, Jack,’ the young man said, standing aside so that we could all see Vanner.

      ‘Thanks, Charles,’ Jack said.

      Vanner was managing a rough version of a smile, as if he still hoped to get some sort of profit out of this. He kept the smile riveted in place as he held out a brown envelope to me.

      ‘Here’s your passport and your wages, plus a bonus that I think you’ll find generous.’

      I checked the passport and was relieved to see that it was actually mine.

      ‘I brought your bags too,’ Vanner said. ‘I left them on deck.’

      He turned his frayed smile on Jack. ‘Mr Bullen—’

      ‘Get out,’ Jack said.

      ‘I just hoped that—now things are sorted out—you and I could—’

      Jack spoke in a voice of steel. ‘I said, get out. Are you deaf?’

      Vanner drew a sharp breath, and again there was that withered look on his face, as though he were suddenly filled with fear. But then fear was driven out by the spoilt petulance of a thwarted child.

      ‘I see,’ he snapped, glaring at me. ‘In that case, now I’ve returned your property, I’ll have mine!’

      He pointed at the silver dress. I backed away from him and put out my hand.

      ‘It’s mine,’ he bellowed. ‘I paid for it.’

      ‘Oh, give it to him,’ Jack said in disgust. ‘Don’t let him have any excuse to make more trouble.’

      He picked up the towelling robe again, and shooed me into the bathroom. Once in there I stripped off and put on the robe, which almost swallowed me up. When I returned Vanner had resumed arguing in a way that he probably thought was persuasive. Phrases reached me’

      ‘Understand these things—men of the world—lot in common—’

      ‘Not that much in common,’ I heard Jack say in a bored tone. ‘No young lady has ever felt she needed to risk her life to escape me.’

      I tossed the dress at Vanner. I couldn’t bear to get any closer to him.

      ‘The steward will see you off the boat,’ Jack said.

      ‘No, I’ll do it,’ said the young man he’d addressed as Charles. ‘It’ll be a pleasure.’

      He and the girl followed Vanner up to the deck, leaving me below with Jack and Grace, and someone else who had appeared. She was about my age, and beautiful in a chilly way. She was one of the women I’d seen looking down at me a few minutes earlier,


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