His Chosen Wife: Antonides' Forbidden Wife / The Ruthless Italian's Inexperienced Wife / The Millionaire's Chosen Bride. Susanne James
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and dirty with whatever had to be done. Beneath his unbuttoned collar dangled a loosened subdued burgundy-and-gray-patterned silk tie.
Ally wondered idly if his other tie was equally conservative.
It wouldn’t matter. At twenty-two PJ Antonides had been a sexy son of a gun in board shorts with a towel slung around his neck, but at thirty-two in tropical-weight wool, an open-necked dress shirt and a half-mast tie, he was devastating.
And he made her want things she knew were not for her.
She shut her eyes against the sight.
When she opened them again it was to watch as PJ dropped easily into the chair opposite her and sat regarding her steadily from beneath hooded lids. “So, wife, where have you been?”
Wife? Well, she was his wife, of course, but she didn’t expect him to simply toss it into the conversation.
Her spine stiffened. “All over the place,” she said quickly before any tempting thoughts could lead her into disaster. “You must know that.”
He cocked his head. “Fill me in.”
She ground her teeth. “Fine. Prepare yourself to be bored. As you know, I started out in California.”
“You mean after you walked out?”
“You make it sound like I dumped you! I didn’t, and you know it! It was your idea … getting married. And you knew the reason! You offered—”
“—to marry you. Yeah, I know.” He shifted in the chair, then recited, “So you could get your grandmother’s legacy, foil your evil father and live your own life. I remember, Al.”
She pressed her lips together. “It wasn’t exactly like that.”
“It was exactly like that.”
“He wasn’t evil. Isn’t evil,” she corrected herself.
PJ shrugged. “Not what you were saying then.”
“I didn’t think he was evil then! I just … I just didn’t want him controlling my life! I told you what he was like. All ‘traditional Japanese father.’ He who must be obeyed. He thought he knew best—what I should take at university, what I should do with my life, who I should marry!”
“And you didn’t.” PJ shrugged. “So, what are you saying, that you were wrong?”
“No. Of course not. I was right. You know that. You saw me when—” But she didn’t want to go there particularly. So she started again. “I just … I understand him better now. I’m older. Wiser. And I’m back in Hawaii. I’ve been seeing him again.”
PJ raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.
So Ally explained. “He had a heart attack a couple of months ago. I’ve always kept in touch with my mother’s cousin Grace. She knew. She rang me in Seattle, told me he was ill. It was serious. He could have died. And I knew I couldn’t leave things the way they were. I wanted to make peace. So I went back to Honolulu. It was the first time I’d seen him since … since …”
“Since he said you were no daughter of his?” PJ’s tone was harsh.
And Ally remembered how incensed he’d been when she’d told him what her father had said.
Now she had some perspective, understood her father better. But at the time she’d turned her back and walked away. Run away. And even now she tried not to think about the rift between them that had lasted so many years.
“Yes.” Because her father had said that. Her fingers twisted in her lap. “When I went back, I … I thought he might still act that way. Might just turn away from me. But he didn’t.” She lifted her head and smiled at the recollection. “He was glad to see me. He reached out to me. Held my hand. Asked … asked me to stay.” She blinked back the tears that always threatened when she reflected again on how close she’d come to losing her father without ever having made her peace with him. “And I have.”
“Stayed? With him?” PJ was scowling.
“Not at his house. I think he would like that, but no—” Ally shook her head “—it wouldn’t be a good idea. I’m an adult. I’m not a child anymore. I have my own apartment in downtown Honolulu. I’ve been back there since May. I did … go back to the beach and … look for you.”
His mouth twisted. “To see if I was still waiting for the perfect wave?”
“I didn’t know you’d left Hawaii altogether.”
“I can’t imagine you cared.”
Her jaw tightened, but she didn’t rise to the bait. “I went to your place, too.”
His brows rose a bit at that, but then he shrugged. “Did you?” His tone was indifferent. Clearly he didn’t care if she had or not. “There’s a high-rise there now.”
“Yes, I saw. And Mrs. Chang …?” She’d wondered about his elderly landlady.
“… went to live with her daughter before I left the island.”
“Which was a couple of years ago?”
He raised a curious brow. “I left Honolulu earlier than that. Oahu isn’t the only place with surf, you know.” He paused, and she thought he might explain where he’d been. But he only shrugged, then added, “I came back here two years ago if that’s what you mean. You’ve been doing your homework.”
“I saw an article in the Star about some former local turned billionaire—”
PJ snorted and rolled his eyes. “Blah, blah, blah. Newspaper writers like that sort of thing. Gives them a reason for living.”
“Everyone has to have a purpose.”
“Some people have better purposes than others.” He shifted in his chair. “We were launching a new windsurfer in a new venue on the island and—” he shrugged negligently “—my sister-in-law said we should promote it. Suggested I give them a local angle.”
The PJ she had known wouldn’t have done anything anyone else suggested. Apparently her surprise was evident.
“It was my choice,” he said sharply. “And look at its unforeseen consequence. I not only may have sold a few windsurfers, but my wife turns up on my doorstep.”
Back to the “wife” bit again. “Er, yes. Something we need to talk about.”
But before she could take advantage of the opening, there was a quick tap on the door and his assistant came in carrying a tray with glasses of iced tea and a plate of delectable-looking cookies.
She was completely professional and efficient, but her eyes kept darting between PJ and Ally as if she were in a minefield and either one of them might explode at any moment.
PJ didn’t seem to notice. “Thanks, Rosie.” He paused, then said, “I don’t believe you’ve met my wife. Not officially. Ally, this is Rosie. Rosie, this is Alice.”
Rosie’s eyes grew round as dinner plates. “You mean, she really is? You haven’t been joking? I mean …”
Rosie didn’t look like a woman who would be at a loss for words, but she seemed to be now. And Ally was at a bit of a loss, too, at the notion that Rosie’s surprise didn’t simply stem from her saying she was PJ’s wife.
He’d told his secretary he was married? Ally was sure she had misunderstood.
But then Rosie mustered a polite, slightly amazed smile and held out her hand. “I’m glad to meet you,” she said. “At last.”
Ally blinked. At last? So PJ had spoken of her? She turned confused eyes his way.
“Rosie runs the show here,” PJ said, not addressing her confusion at all. He smiled easily at his assistant. “Hold all my calls,