Michelle Smart

Buying His Bride Of Convenience


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salary for you will be more than replaced by the allowance you’ll get from me.’

      ‘It’s not about the money.’

      ‘Then what is it about?’

      She inhaled deeply. How could she explain that her job in the camp had given her a purpose? In the midst of all the deprivation she’d found hope when she’d been so sure there was no hope left inside her. And even if she could find the words to explain it, what would Daniele care? For him, money ruled everything. Marrying her meant he stood to inherit even more filthy lucre.

      That made her mind up for her.

      Fixing her eyes on him, she said, ‘Five million a year. That’s what you’ll have to pay the charity for me to marry you. And I’ll want it in writing. A legal document.’

      His eyes didn’t flicker. ‘It will form part of our prenuptial agreement.’

      ‘I will have my own lawyer approve it.’

      ‘Naturally.’

      ‘I need to give a month’s notice and—’

      ‘No.’ His refutation was sharp. ‘That is too long. There are many things that need to be arranged and it can’t wait. I want us to be married in Italy as soon as possible and there is much to organise. You will hand your notice in tomorrow and tell your bosses you’ll be leaving with immediate effect or this suitcase of cash stays with me and I find another wife.’

      He must have noticed her mutinous expression at his non-subtle warning that he could easily find another woman to be his wife, and likely one who was a hundred times more malleable, for he added, ‘I will arrange for someone suitable to take your place until the charity can find a permanent replacement for you.’

      ‘And if you can’t find a suitable replacement?’

      ‘I will.’ He looked so smugly confident in his assertion that she longed to smack him. ‘But the second I hand over the cash tomorrow you are committed to marrying me. There will be no going back on your word.’

      ‘Providing my lawyer agrees that the prenuptial agreement is unbreakable, I will not go back on my word.’

      ‘Then do we have a deal? You will marry me? You will quit your job and come to Italy with me tomorrow?’

      ‘Only if the agency agrees that your “suitable replacement” is suitable.’

      ‘They will,’ he said in that same smugly confident tone.

      ‘I’ll need to go home before I go to Italy.’

      Now he drummed his fingers on the table with his impatience. ‘What’s your excuse for that?’

      ‘You’re an Italian national but I’ll be considered an alien. I used to work at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs so I know what I’m talking about. I need to go to my home in The Hague to collect the papers your officials will require from me.’

      ‘I’ll send someone to get them.’

      ‘I’m not having a stranger go through my possessions.’

      He studied her for a moment before giving a sharp nod. ‘Okay, I will take you to the Netherlands first. But that is it. I will agree to no further delays. Does this mean we have a deal? Do I instruct my lawyers to draft the prenuptial agreement?’

      Her throat suddenly running dry, Eva cleared it, trying to ignore the chorus of rebuttals ringing in her head.

      What did it matter if she was agreeing to a cold, emotionless marriage when her life had been cold and emotionless for six years? Marrying Daniele meant the Blue Train Aid Agency would have the wonderful benefit of his money, which would be of far more value to it than she was as a lowly employee.

      As Daniele himself had said only minutes ago, marrying him meant everyone was a winner.

      But still the chorus in her head warned that for there to be a winner someone had to be the loser.

      How could she be the loser in the deal? She wasn’t giving Daniele her heart, only her physical presence. She wasn’t giving him anything of herself so how could she be the loser?

      So she ignored the chorus and met his gaze, her cold heart battering her ribs. ‘Yes. We have a deal.’

      ‘You will marry me?’

      Closing her mind to the image of Johann that had fluttered to its forefront, she nodded.

      ‘Say it,’ Daniele commanded.

      ‘Yes. I will marry you.’

      His firm lips turned at the corners, more grimace than smile. ‘Then I suggest we have a drink to drown our sorrows in.’

      * * *

      Daniele, looked at his watch and sighed. The money had been handed over to the astounded Blue Train Aid Agency bosses, his temporary replacement for Eva approved with only the most cursory of glances at the replacement’s CV, and the prenuptial agreement was in the hands of his lawyers and expected to be completed by the time they landed in Europe. Her canvas backpack had been put in the boot of his car by his driver, all the paperwork for the termination of her employment done. They should be long gone from this godforsaken camp by now but Eva had disappeared, muttering something about needing to say some goodbyes. He’d imagined it would take only a few minutes but she’d been gone for almost an hour.

      He accepted another sludge-like coffee from a female employee who turned the colour of beetroot every time he looked at her and forced a smile. All he wanted was to be gone and away from this place that made him hate himself for the privileges he’d been born to. Although he would never admit this to Eva, he would have donated the million dollars cash to the charity that morning even if she’d turned his proposal down.

      Just as he drained the last of the disgusting liquid—he’d have to add a lifetime supply of decent coffee for all staff and refugees to his donation, he decided—Eva appeared in the dilapidated building he’d been hiding in.

      ‘Ready to go?’ he asked in a tone that left no room for doubt that she’d better be ready to go or he’d chuck her over his shoulder and carry her out.

      She nodded. She’d hardly exchanged a word with him since his arrival at the camp mid-morning and hadn’t met his eyes once.

      ‘Come on then.’

      It was only a short walk to his car. His driver spotted their approach and opened the passenger door.

      ‘Eva!’

      They both turned their heads to the sound and saw three teenage boys come flying over to them, jabbering and calling out in Spanish.

      Eva’s face lit up to see them.

      She embraced them all tightly in turn and, much to their pretend disgust, kissed their cheeks and ruffled their hair. Only after she’d embraced them all for a second time did she get in the car.

      Daniele hurried in behind her so she couldn’t use another excuse to delay, and tapped the partition screen so his driver knew to get going.

      The boys ran alongside the car as they left the camp, waving, hollering, blowing kisses, which were all returned by Eva.

      Only when they were on the open road with the camp far behind them did Daniele see the solitary tear trickle down her face.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      EVA STEPPED INTO the small one-bedroom apartment she’d shared with Johann with a weight sitting heavily in her chest.

      As she walked slowly through the living room, dust dislodged and filtered through the air. She hadn’t set foot in it for over a year. She hadn’t lived in it properly in four years. Intellectually she knew she should sell it or at the very least rent it out, but she couldn’t bring herself to.

      All