The Forced Marriage Read Free

‘I work in the accounting section, mainly raising funding for our research projects.’
    ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Well—that would explain it.’
    Actually, it explained nothing, because he wasn’t her idea of an accountant either, by a mile and a half.
    ‘Does everything have to be readily comprehensible?’ he enquired softly. ‘Do you never wish to embark on a long, slow voyage of discovery?’
    Flora had the feeling that he was needling her again, but she refused to react. ‘I’m more used to first impressions—instant reactions. It’s part of my job.’
    ‘So,’ he said. ‘You know who I am. Will you grant me the same privilege?’
    ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Yes—of course…’
    She delved into her misused bag and produced one of her own business cards. He read it, then looked back at her, those amazing eyes glinting under their heavy lids. ‘Flora,’ he said softly. ‘The goddess of the springtime.’
    She flushed and looked away. ‘Actually, I was named after my grandmother—far more prosaic.’
    ‘So, tell me—Flora—will you continue to work after you are married?’
    ‘Naturally.’
    ‘You are sure that your man will not guard you even more closely when you are his wife?’
    ‘That’s nonsense,’ Flora said indignantly. ‘Chris doesn’t guard me.’
    ‘Good,’ Marco Valante said briskly. ‘Because we have arrived at the hotel, and there is nothing, therefore, to prevent you going in with me.’
    Flora had every intention of offering him a last haughty word of thanks, then hobbling out of his life for ever. But suddenly the commissionaire was there, helping her out of the taxi and holding open the big swing doors so she could go in.
    And then she was in the foyer, all marble and plate glass, and Marco Valante had joined her and was giving soft-voiced orders that people were hurrying to obey—a lot of them concerning herself.
    And suddenly the reality of making the kind of scene which would extract her from this situation seemed totally beyond her capabilities.
    In fact, she was forced to acknowledge, all she really wanted to do was find somewhere quiet and burst into tears.
    She didn’t even utter a protest when she was escorted to the lift and taken up to the first floor. She walked beside Marco Valante to the end of the corridor, and waited while he slotted in his key card and opened the door.
    Mutely, she preceded him into the room.
    Although this was no mere room, she saw at once. It was a large and luxuriously furnished suite, and they were standing in the sitting room. The curtains were half drawn, to exclude the afternoon sun, and he went over and flung them wide.
    ‘Sit down.’ He indicated one of the deeply cushioned sofas and she sank down on it with unaccustomed obedience, principally because her throbbing legs were threatening to give way beneath her.
    ‘I have told them to send the nurse here to dress your cuts,’ he said. ‘I have also ordered some tea for you, and if you go into the bathroom you will find a robe you can wear while your suit is being valeted.’
    She said shakily, ‘You’re pretty autocratic for an accountant.’
    He shrugged. ‘I wish to make some kind of amends for what happened earlier.’
    ‘I don’t see why,’ Flora objected. ‘It wasn’t your fault.’
    ‘But I could, perhaps, have prevented it if I had been quicker. If I had obeyed my instinct and left the restaurant when you did.’
    ‘Why should you do that?’ Reaction was beginning to set in. She felt deathly cold suddenly, and wrapped her arms round her body, gritting her teeth to stop them from chattering.
    ‘I thought,’ he said softly, ‘that I was not permitted to pay you compliments. But, if you must know, I wanted very much to make the acquaintance of a beautiful girl with hair that Titian might have painted.’
    So Hes had been right, Flora realised with a little jolt of shock. He had indeed been watching her during lunch.
    ‘Presumably,’ she said, with an effort,