He's My Husband!. Lindsay Armstrong

took a sip of wine, then twirled the glass in her fingers.

      ‘You didn’t mind?’ He watched her narrowly.

      ‘No. What do you think he’d have made of this, though?’ She returned his gaze steadily.

      ‘I think, Nicola...’ he said, and paused. ‘I think he’d rest easily to know we’d devised a way of getting you through these difficult years—and they can be difficult years for anyone, not least for someone as alone in the world as you are—safely and happily.’

      ‘All the same, it’s fraud of a kind,’ she murmured a little dryly, and formed her slender hands into a steeple on the table. ‘Although it remains to be seen whether we fool anyone.’ And there was that glint of challenge in her deep blue eyes again.

      ‘They may draw their own conclusions, but—’ he smiled slightly, a cool twisting of his lips that was curiously intimidating ‘—I can assure you they’d think twice about expressing them, let alone treating you with anything but respect.’

      Her brows rose. ‘You sound quite formidable, Brett.’

      He said nothing, only looked lazily amused, but if anything that reinforced her growing understanding that he was formidable when he wanted to be.

      ‘Uh...’ She hesitated. ‘There is one person who might be entitled to express all sorts of reservations on the subject—they are her children, too.’

      ‘Leave Marietta to me,’ he said evenly.

      ‘But I think I should know whether you intend to tell her the truth or not, Brett?’

      ‘Marietta waived certain rights, Nicola, when she walked out on her children, but, if it’s OK with you, all I would do is present her with a fait accompli. I can’t see her not being delighted to have you there for Sasha and Chris.’ He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Is that a yes?’