Marriage of Convenience

Chapter Thirteen

She had kicked her shoes off the moment she'd walked through the front door this afternoon, and now her silk-clad toes curled into the soft pile of the Persian carpet that partially covered the polished oak boards of the study floor as she stared at the phone. She resisted the temptation to call Takeovers and Mergers to fish for the information she needed; she had to speak to Theo about it first.

And there was no question of warning Uncle Charles. The rumor might be completely unfounded and there was no point in worrying him unnecessarily. Equally, there was no point in speaking to Sam, not until she had the facts. She didn't particularly want to speak to Sam about anything, not after the way he had been this morning, but he was in charge of the company. Her hand hovered over the phone and she bit her lips indecision before getting up and leaving the room. She would wait for Theo, see what he had to say before alerting any of the family...

She had fallen asleep but she snapped to immediate wakefulness when she heard the door as Theo walked in. He didn't notice her at first, and watching him loosen his tie and run his fingers through his crisp dark hair she thought he looked tired, but when she said, 'Hi ' and standing up, his face lightened, a slow, warm smile curving his long, masculine mouth.

'You shouldn't have waited up.' He came over to her, reaching for her, pulling her close so that their bodies were touching, breast to the thigh, and the sharp burn of wanting to spark to quick life between them. He bent his dark head, dark hair mingling with soft silver gilt, and he murmured,  'God, you smell good, taste good.'

In a moment, Freya knew, there would be no question of her mentioning the rumor of the takeover bid. 'Already the deep need his nearness invoked was claiming her, turning her blood to flame, her mind to mush. So, her hands against the strong wall of his chest, she pushed him away. 'Can I fix you a drink? You look tired.' Her breath was sucked in through her nostrils, making them flare with the sheer effort of clearing her mind, of holding him at bay when all her instincts dictated that she become mindless, melting, a creature created for his pleasure, for the pleasure only he could give her.

'I don't want a drink.' His voice was thick. 'I want you.' He reached for her again but she was too quick for him, her voice rapid and high as she told him, 'I must ask you something.' The smile she slanted in his direction was shaky, because this wasn't what she wanted, not really. She, too, wanted only the wonderful magic that could only be found in his arms, in the depth and delight of their lovemaking.

'Go ahead.'

He slumped in the chair opposite the one she had sunk into and she noticed the tiredness was back in his face, the marks of a man who drove himself too hard. But she owed it to Uncle Charles, to herself, to find out, so she asked him, 'Is it true that Dylan Dexter is considering a takeover of Dexter Securities? I heard a rumor.'

'Ah. I think I will have that drink.' He moved over to the drinks tray and Freya, her eyes on the long male elegance of his back, knew the rumor had a solid ground. And that hurt, more than she had thought possible. Why hadn't he told her? But his features had assumed the poker player's mask that he always used to hide his true feelings when he turned to face her again, and he went to stand in front of the fire,  his glass held in one loosely curved hand. 'So you've heard about the possible takeover bid.

'Why didn't you tell me?' With an effort she kept her voice level, light; she had too much pride to allow him to see her as a whining child, and a cold smile flickered over his mouth as he told her, 'We don't work like that. You, of all people, should know that. You're an interested party.'

'Of course.' Her expression was carefully blank, but she was hurting inside. How could he have kept such a thing from her? She loved him, she was his wife! But, a cold spiteful voice inside her reminded, he didn't love her. As far as he was concerned theirs was a contract marriage, nothing more. Beyond the bedroom door, she was no more to him than she had ever been—one individual among the many employed by Dylan Dexter, slightly closer to him than most because of her position as his PA, but that was all.

All at once she needed a drink, too, and she got up, her body feeling uncoordinated as she moved across the room. When Charles Dexter will found out about this it would finish him. He would see all his work, the decision he'd made with her father to break free of Dylan Dexter all those years ago, count for nothing.

Her back to Theo, she poured herself a vodka and tonic, trying to control the tremble of her hand, and Theo said quietly, 'There's something else. I think it's time you knew—I'm going to have to find another PA.'

Quite suddenly, the ticking of the pretty old clock seemed louder. Or maybe it was the silence, the stillness that flooded her brain as she waited for him to explain. She loved her job, didn't want to lose it. Working with Theo made her feel fully alive, it had done since that very first day. And surely he wasn't one of those ghastly old-fashioned men who, clinging to archaic concepts, believed a woman's place was in the home, preferably in chains!

He had waited for her to protest, to comment. That much was evident from the arching of one black brow. But Freya couldn't trust herself to speak, not just yet. And then, as if he could feel her confusion, his eyes softened, understanding making them warm as he watched her go back to her chair.

'I shall miss you,' he told her quietly. 'Miss your quick mind, your unfailing tact, the flick of dry humor when you want to put me in my place.'

So he had noticed that! And all the time she had imagined she was quietly and unobtrusively manipulating him into making slightly less than impossible demands on himself, on the rest of the staff! And if he would miss her, why then should he fire her? It didn't make sense!

'There are two reasons why I want you to make a move,' he answered the question posed by the puzzled grey eyes. 'In the first place, I don't think it's a particularly good idea for a husband and wife to work so closely together. And secondly, in view of the board's interest in the possibility of a takeover, you'd be far more useful at Dexter Securities.'

She hadn't thought of that, but now her mind reluctantly began to follow his.

'Are they in trouble?' Aunt Sophia had said that Uncle Charles had been fretting about the business. Freya had put that down to his general ill health, but obviously there was more to it than that. And Dylan Dexter had started to take a serious interest.

'Some,' Theo replied evenly. 'Since Charles had to retire, Sam's been overreaching himself. It's a high-risk-capital game, as we know, but recently he's been risking too much— especially in the entrepreneurial section; high flyers with no real and solid grounds for success. The City is getting to know it by now, but if I could persuade the board to back off, forget we ever contemplated a takeover bid, then the other big fishes would have to rethink. If they find out, which I shall make sure they do, that Dylan Dexter's interest in Dexter Securities has cooled, then they're going to hold off while they sniff the air. You understand?'

She did. She understood, but could do nothing about the game of financial chess Theo was outlining. He had seen her offer of her block of Dexter Securities shares as a means of taking personal control of the finance house.

Dylan Dexter was interested in controlling. With her at the helm of the company, no doubt with strong guidance from him, he could become the major shareholder in a newly prosperous concern. Little wonder he'd decided to take up her offer of marriage after she'd told him she'd give him those shares!

'And if you are there,' he leaned forward in his chair, his eyes holding hers intently, 'with your brain, your grasp of what makes the City tick, your financial common sense, then you should have enough time to get Dexter Securities back into a position of strength before anyone realizes what is happening.

Interested?'

'You don't need to ask that,' Freya replied, her throat tightening. If it were within her power to rescue Dexter Securities then she had no choice but to do her damnedest. And that would be what Theo was counting on. The shares she had brought to this marriage would be worth so much more if the company was sound. He was manipulating her, making sure the assets she had brought with her were worth as much as possible. It hurt like nothing else had hurt before because in spite of her earlier optimism about the state of their marriage he was no nearer loving her than he had ever been. He was using her. In bed or out of it, he was simply using her.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

What do you think about this chapter ??

Do you think what Freya thinks about Theo is right? Is he using her?