Kiss an Angel(6)

“This must mean you’re planning on giving me half the money in that trust fund he’s promised to set up for you.”

“Oh, no, I’m not planning to do that at all.”

He gave a short bark of laughter. “Somehow I didn’t think so.”

“You misunderstand. I’ll pay you back as soon as I have access to my trust. I’m only asking for a loan.”

“And I’m refusing it.”

She knew then that she’d made a mess of it. She had a bad habit of assuming other people would do what she herself would do if she were in their shoes. For example, if she were Alex Markov, she would certainly loan herself half the money just to get rid of her.

She needed to smoke. Badly. “Could I have my cigarettes back? I’m sure that only one of them was faulty.”

He withdrew the crumpled pack from the pocket of his slacks and handed it over. She quickly lit up, shut her eyes, and drew the smoke deeply into her lungs.

She heard the sizzle, and by the time her eyes sprang open, the cigarette was already in flames. With a gasp of dismay, she dropped it. Once again, Alex swept up the butt and embers with a handkerchief.

“Maybe you could sue,” he said mildly.

She pressed her hand to her throat, too stunned to speak.

He reached over and touched her breast. She felt the flick of his finger on the inner swell and jumped back, even as the sensitive flesh beaded beneath the satin. Her gaze flew upward to those unfathomable golden eyes.

“A spark,” he said.

She covered her breast with her hand and felt the trembling of her heart beneath her palm. How long had it been since a hand other than her own had touched her there? Two years ago, she remembered, when she’d had her last physical exam.

She saw that they had reached the airport, and she garnered her courage. “Mr. Markov, you have to realize that we can’t live together as man and wife. We’re strangers. The whole idea is ridiculous, and I’m going to have to insist that you be more cooperative about this.”

“Insist?” he said mildly. “I don’t believe you have a right to insist on anything.”

She stiffened her spine. “I’m not going to be bullied, Mr. Markov.”

He sighed and shook his head, regarding her with an expression of regret that she didn’t believe for a minute was sincere. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to do this, angel face, but I guess I should have figured it wouldn’t be that easy with you. Maybe I’d better spell out the ground rules right now, just so you’ll know what to expect. For better or worse, the two of us are married until six months from today. You can walk away any time you want to, but you’ll have to do it on your own. And in case you haven’t figured it out by now, this isn’t going to be one of those modern, talk-things-through-so-we-can-compromise marriages like you read about in all those ladies’ magazines. This is going to be an old-time relationship.” If anything his voice grew softer, more gentle. “Now what that means, angel face, is that I’m in charge, and you’re going to be doing what I say. If you don’t, you’ll suffer some pretty unpleasant consequences. The good news in all this is that after the time’s up, you can do whatever you want. I won’t give a damn.”

A wave of panic gripped her, and she fought against succumbing to it. “I don’t like being threatened. Maybe you should just come right out and tell me what these consequences are that you’re holding over my head.”

He settled back into the seat, and the small upward tilt of that hard mouth sent a shiver of dread down her spine.

“Aw, angel face, I’m not gonna have to. By tonight you’ll have figured it out all by yourself.”





2




Daisy hovered in the far corner of the smoking section at the USAir gate, taking such quick drags on her cigarette that she was getting light-headed. The plane, she had discovered, was heading for Charleston, South Carolina, one of her favorite cities, and she tried to take that as a positive sign in a chain of events that had been growing more disastrous by the minute.

First, Mr. High-and-Mighty Markov had refused to go along with her plan. Then he’d sabotaged her luggage. When the chauffeur had unloaded only one overstuffed carry-on bag from the trunk instead of the full array of suitcases she’d packed, she’d assumed there’d been a mistake, but Alex had quickly set her straight.

“We’re traveling light. I had the housekeeper repack for you during the wedding ceremony.”

“You had no right to do that!”

“We’ll carry them on instead of checking them.” He’d picked up his own much smaller bag and she’d watched with astonishment as he’d set off, leaving her to follow. She’d barely been able to hoist her cumbersome piece of luggage, and her ankles had wobbled on her too-high heels as she’d dragged it after him. Feeling miserable and self-conscious, she’d struggled toward the gate, certain everyone she passed was noting her holey nylons, scorched gold lace, and bruised gardenia.

When he’d disappeared into the rest room, she’d hurried to buy a fresh pack of cigarettes, only to discover that she had nothing but a ten-dollar bill in her purse. With a sense of shock, she’d realized it was all the money she had left in the world. Her bank accounts were closed, her credit cards canceled. She’d returned the bill to her wallet and bummed a cigarette from an attractive businessman instead.