His Blackmailed Bride. Sandra Marton
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I’ll have a whole week to hope—and you’ll have a whole week to think of a reason not to say “yes”.’
And Paige had smiled and agreed. After all, she owed him that much. Alan was sweet and charming, and she knew that the women he’d dated before would give anything to change places with her. Their dates always ended with chaste goodnight kisses, but that didn’t seem to deter him. If anything, her refusals to make their relationship more intimate seemed only to spur him into a more determined pursuit. What harm could there be in letting five days go by before telling him ‘no’ one more time?
But, when she’d returned that Friday, her mother had embraced her and said tearfully, ‘I’m so happy for you, dear. But you should have told us yourself.’ And while Paige was still trying to make sense out of that, her father had kissed her and told her he was glad she’d finally decided to take his advice and marry Alan.
‘I’ve been telling you he’s the right man for months,’ he’d said. ‘I’m glad you finally came to your senses, girl.’
And Alan—Alan had flashed his sheepish, charming grin and admitted he’d got carried away, that he’d mentioned what she’d said, but only to her parents and his, and…
‘What do you mean, you mentioned what I’d said?’ Paige had demanded angrily. ‘I didn’t say anything, Alan. You asked me to wait, to think things over…’
Alan had said yes, he knew that, but what was there to think about, really? They liked each other, they had fun together, and he would give her a secure, happy life.
‘Don’t be angry with me, sweetheart,’ he’d murmured.
His expression had been so apologetic that Paige’s anger had fallen away. ‘I’m not angry. It’s just that…’ She’d touched her hand gently to his cheek. ‘You must know that I don’t love you, Alan. Well, I mean, I love you, but I’m not in love with you. Do you understand? You deserve more from a wife than I can give you.’
Alan knew what she meant. He’d taken her in his arms a dozen times, waiting patiently for her to respond to his caresses, assuring her it was all right when she didn’t.
‘I want you,’ he’d said simply, smiling into her eyes. ‘As for the rest—it will come in time. You’ll see.’
Embarrassment coloured her cheeks, but her gaze had never wavered. ‘Alan, what if I don’t? What if…’
The look on his face had told her he couldn’t imagine such a thing happening.
‘I’d still love you, of course,’ he’d said, and then he’d grinned boyishly. ‘But there’s no danger of that. I won’t fail you, Paige. You’ll see.’
‘Alan,’ Paige had said, wanting to tell him it wasn’t his failure she was concerned about, but he’d taken her in his arms and kissed her again, and when finally she’d pushed him gently from her the door had swung open and his mother had entered the room.
‘Paige, we’re so pleased,’ she’d said. ‘I hope you don’t mind—I’ve spoken to the caterer—I thought perhaps we’d have a champagne breakfast, with quail and lobster.’
And after that, Paige thought as Alan led her to the dance floor, after that, everything had moved far too quickly. Alan’s father wanted him to head up the South American branch of the firm, which meant that the wedding that had been planned for next June was moved back to November, and the long engagement Paige had anticipated had become one of the shortest on record. Three days, she thought again, as his arms slipped around her, three days…
‘Hey,’ Alan said gently, ‘come back, Paige.’
Paige looked up at him and shook her head. ‘Sorry. I was just thinking—I can’t believe the wedding day’s so soon.’
He drew back and grinned down at her. ‘It’s too late to get out of it. What would Aunt Dorothy think?’
Paige gave him a quick smile. ‘That I was silly to give you up.’
Alan laughed as he spun her across the dance floor. ‘That she’d been done out of the chance to attend the party of the year. Aunt Dorothy and Mother spent half the morning talking about Mother’s plans for the wedding.’
‘Only half the morning? I’d think our wedding deserved more than that.’
‘It did. Aunt Dorothy spent the rest of the time giving me the benefit of her experience.’
Paige laughed. ‘Is she an expert?’
‘In a way.’ He grinned and drew her closer. ‘The old girl’s been married three times. I’ll probably have to listen to more advice from my big brother, too.’
She laughed again. ‘Don’t tell me he’s been married three times.’
Alan chuckled. ‘Quinn? Not likely. No woman’s ever going to catch him.’
‘Terrific,’ Paige said teasingly. ‘What kind of advice can you get from someone like that?’
‘A speech that starts, “You’ve got to be crazy to do this, old man”. You know, the usual “I’m older and wiser” nonsense big brothers always give.’
‘And when do I get to meet this paragon?’ Paige asked, tilting her head to the side and smiling at her fiancé.
‘As soon as he gets here. He’s due tomorrow, but with Quinn you never know. He…’
‘Alan, you don’t mind if I dance with my daughter, do you?’
Paige looked up as Alan let go of her and her father took her into his arms.
‘Of course not, sir. Paige, sweetheart, I’ll get us some champagne, OK? I’ll be back in a minute.’
Her father cleared his throat as Paige settled into his arms. ‘Your mother’s worried about you,’ he said without any preliminaries. ‘She sent me to ask if everything was all right.’
Paige looked at Andrew Gardiner in surprise. ‘What do you mean, Father?’
‘She says you’ve been acting as if you were a million miles away.’ The music changed to an old-fashioned waltz and her father guided her across the floor. ‘I told her it was just last-minute jitters.’
Paige nodded. ‘I guess.’
Her father peered into her face. ‘Alan is right for you, Paige. He’s a fine young man. I’ve got to know him during the years I’ve worked for his father, and…’
It was the same speech her father had been making for months, ever since she had let slip the fact that Alan had proposed.
‘Father,’ she said gently, ‘you can relax. I’m marrying him, remember? I finally took your advice.’
Her father looked at her. ‘I only want what’s best for all of us.’
Paige laughed. ‘All of us? I’m the one who’s getting married, not you.’
‘It’s just a figure of speech, child. You know what I mean—if you’re happy, your mother and I are happy.’ Her father smiled at her. ‘You are happy, aren’t you?’
Paige nodded. Of course she was. Alan was, as her father had insisted, a fine man, and she did love him—in a way. And, if that was enough for him, it was enough for her. It was more than enough for her, she told herself as her father waltzed her around the dance floor. She’d had her taste of what everyone called the great passion, and she knew it for the fiction it was. She’d tried to tell that to Alan the day they’d become engaged, but he hadn’t given her the chance. And it was just as well. Perhaps he could teach her heart to soar and her pulse to sing. And if he couldn’t, then his pleasure would give her pleasure. That would be enough. It might even be best. It would…
A chill danced across her shoulders. Someone was watching her; she knew