A British Bride by Agreement Read Free

the
pavement, throbbed as she cried. Her piano had been a gift from her grandmother
on her sixteenth birthday. Grandmum had even paid to have it shipped to the
states when Emma married.
    At the reverberation of braking
screeching, her head shot up.
    A black jaguar swerved into the truck’s
path. Jonathan Steller climbed out of the driver’s side.
    ***
    Jonathan’s insides hammered. Thanks to
Kurt’s call, he’d turned around and headed back to the house just in time.
Shoving his keys into his pocket, he dug out his checkbook, as his family’s
longstanding motto, ich werde hilfe —I will help—demanded.
    He’d spent his whole life living up to
Steller expectations.
    The driver stuck his head out the
window. “Move the car, Mr. Steller, or I’ll have to run over it.”
    Thunder boomed, adding to the tension in
the air. Jonathan swiped at the rain on his face with his sleeve. “How much?”
    The driver swung open the door and
dropped to his feet. “With all due respect, sir, I can’t just unload—”
    “How much?” Jonathan
snapped. At the sound of a woman’s weeping, he turned around. The sight of Emma
crying filled him with fury. He glared at the driver. “Don’t. Move.” Then he strode over and lifted her to her feet. “Are
you okay?”
    She nodded as the rain began to fall
steadily.
    He handed her a handkerchief.
    Another worker came around the truck and
spoke to the driver. “Just collect the money, and let’s get out of here.”
    “Excuse me,” Jonathan said to Emma as he
paced back to the two men.
    The driver retrieved his clipboard from the
truck’s dashboard and shoved the papers in front of him.
    Clive, Jonathan’s butler came and stood
beside him. “Do I need to summon security?”
    “No.” A few scribbles of Jonathan’s pen,
a quick tear of vellum paper, and the matter was resolved. “Now get off my
property,” he said through clenched teeth.
    “Look, Mr. Steller, I’m just doin ’—”
    Jonathan grabbed him by a fist full of
collar. “You’re nothing but a bully. And if you say one more word, I will reach
for the .45 I keep under my driver’s seat. ”   With a slight shove, Jonathan let him
go. He gestured toward Clive. “See that the piano is taken to the music room
before it gets too wet—”
    “No, it’s mine.” Emma charged at
Jonathan, her short blonde hair in wet, wild tangles.
    A pang of sympathy rang though him, but
he kept his face still. He hated bullies, and he had a painfully soft spot for
those who were being abused. “I’ll keep it for you.”
    The truck started up and swerved out of
the Steller driveway, just missing Jonathan’s jag.
    “Is my piano now a bargaining chip?” Her
shoulders, now soaked with rain, heaved with emotion.
    He studied her beautiful skin and pink
lips. Unfortunately, he inadvertently had Emma Banks over a barrel. A
negotiating position he preferred in matters of business, but this agreement wasn’t
business. He wanted her to accept his offer, but he didn’t want her to feel she
had to. “I’ll only keep it until you get settled, wherever you’re going.”
    She stuffed her hands in her jean’s
pockets. “Oh, I’m—if you could, that would be brilliant.”
    “Great.” He tugged on his suit coat and
straightened his tie. Did Emma see his rather aggressive behavior? He pressed
his lips. Of course she did. He hoped it didn’t deter her. “Do you want to come
in and dry off?”
    “No.” She shook her head, her eyes
looking around as if weighing her options. “It was lovely, er… good to see you
again.”
      He’d always found English accents charming.
“Am I lovely, or the piano?”
    Instead of answering, her gaze followed
the workers from the Steller house who carried her
instrument into his house. A protection blanket slipped revealing it to be a
Steinway concert piano.
    She handed Jonathan his handkerchief and
cast him a nervous glance. “I used to play professionally.”
    Did she think he’d expect her to