A Price Worth Paying - By Trish Morey Page 0,30

Ezmerelda off your back.’

‘I am quite capable of dealing with Ezmerelda with or without your intervention.’

‘But marrying me does provide you with a handy out. She can’t marry you if you’ve already got a wife. I bet you’re hoping she’s got her talons in someone else before our marriage is over.’

‘I admit there may have been an element of that in my deliberations.’

‘So I didn’t have to sign over the vines at all. There was already plenty in it for you.’

‘But you did sign them over.’

‘But if I’d known about Ezmerelda—’

‘That’s just it,’ he said, downing the rest of his glass and placing it on the tray of a passing waiter. ‘You didn’t.’

She turned away, feeling as if she’d been duped. Worse, she felt used. She’d thought they’d negotiated a deal when he’d held all the cards to begin with. Felipe had told her to watch him and he was right. Alesander was as ruthless as they came.

And it didn’t matter to know that her future waited for her half a world away. A vineyard halfway up a mountain in northern Spain was no good to her as it was, but she could have sold it. Alesander would have bought it, even if it was overgrown and neglected. She could have got something for it. Instead she’d practically given it to him and now she’d be going home as penniless as when she’d arrived.

‘Cheer up,’ he said. ‘You don’t look like you’re having fun.’

‘Oh, I am,’ she lied. ‘I’m having immense fun debating when to confide to my new best friend that all is not lost, that maybe things aren’t as dire as they seem and that she may well still get her man, slightly used but none the worse for wear. But do I tell her before the wedding, or after?’

He bristled. She saw it in the flex of his shoulders and the set of a jaw that had gone from smug to stiff in a heartbeat. ‘You wouldn’t dare risk the news getting out and getting back to Felipe.’

‘You’re right, I wouldn’t. But it was so worth the look on your face to say it.’

‘You have a strange sense of humour, Miss Hamilton.’

‘Miss Hamilton? We are formal, aren’t we? I suspect I must have made you angry for some reason.’

‘On the contrary, but you do have a habit of taking me by surprise at times.’

‘Do I? That’s actually a good thing, isn’t it? It would be awful being stuck together for even ten minutes if we bored each other senseless.’

Oh, there was no chance of that, he thought.

‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘I won’t have to tell Ezmerelda anything, because you’re going to tell her that you’re getting married and to someone else first.’

‘What?’

‘Before you make any public announcement of our impending marriage, you will take Ezmerelda aside and let her know that we are getting married. And I don’t care what you think of her or what kind of person she might be, she deserves to hear it from you first. She deserves that much consideration at least.’

Now he was angry. He looked down at her coldly. He wasn’t used to being told what to do, let alone by a pint-sized woman who without her spiky heels barely came up to his shoulder. But, worst of all, he supposed she might actually be right. The last thing they needed when he made the announcement was a scene.

Though he’d wager that wasn’t what was motivating Simone. If he didn’t know better, he’d actually think she felt sorry for Ezmerelda, which made no sense at all, given the way she hadn’t hesitated to warn her off.

And that was something new. As far as he knew, she’d never done that before. Or maybe nobody else had ever been game enough to tell him. This woman was, not to mention game enough to tell him to put her out of her misery as part of the deal. His doorstep bride really was turning out to be a surprise package indeed.

He looked around at the thinning crowd. He’d thought about making the announcement tonight when there were still enough people to witness the news to guarantee its rapid spread, but Simone did have a point. He didn’t want to ruin Markel’s party by creating a scene.

‘Will you be all right if I leave you for a few minutes?’

She raised one eyebrow in question—a question he chose to ignore. ‘I’ll be fine. And look, here comes Markel.’ The older man joined them, his ruddy cheeks