A British Bride by Agreement Read online

  His thoughts drifted toward Dede. She was the head of the St. Louis Trust and had run the city-based philanthropic organization for years. After hearing about the Belize orphanage, he’d called her, but after seeing Emma’s expression when she met Dede at the dinner, he hadn’t called again. How did Dede do it? As far as he knew, her charity had never been swindled.

  How could God send him to work in a charity when He knew he would fail at it? His face grew hot with emotion. “God, wasn’t what Dede did to me enough? Do You want to humiliate me further?” His mind drifted to the three children’s cancer hospitals he had scheduled to visit next week. How could he watch children with no hair, ravaged by chemotherapy, trying to play? Just the thought of it made his stomach clench.

  The front door opened. Emma? He shot to his feet, tucked in his shirt and smoothed back his hair. He’d have to think of reason for being home so early. He wasn’t sure what she thought of him, or if she cared for him as he deeply as he did, but he certainly wasn’t going to reveal to her the shock he’d been through.

  She’d agreed to marry a successful man. He would be that man no matter what he had to do to achieve it.

  ***

  Emma slogged through her front door and threw her keys on top of a box. She’d met with Franz again, but was still unable to make a decision as to which design theme she wanted to use. Alpine modern? European retro? Antique German? None of it her taste, but he had been the Steller decorator for years and this is what was expected of her. Her mother-in-law had asked her every day when it was going to be done.

  Although grateful to be finished for the day, when her heels echoed with a hollow sound on wide wood planks, reminding her there was no one at home for her. Another night alone in front of the TV. But as she neared the kitchen, she heard the shuffling of refrigerator contents. “Jonathan?”

  He pulled his head out of the fridge with his hair sticking out in all directions. His face looked stricken.

  “Why are you home so early? Are you sick?”

  He had a white-knuckle grip on a ketchup bottle. “Do I look sick?”

  “No, I’m just surprised to see you.” She set the shopping bag with the new cologne she’d just bought him on the counter. She couldn’t wait to give it to him. “Are you going back to work tonight?”

  “No…” His face looked stern. “I thought I’d stay home.”

  Warmth filled her. “I bought you a present.”

  “For me?” But when he went to open the bag, his hand shook so hard they rattled the tissue paper. He snatched them back.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” Even before she asked the question, she knew something was wrong.

  He shoved his hands to his hips. “Work is stressful, that’s all. But nothing I can’t deal with. It was a long day. How was yours?”

  Sadness weighted her shoulders. The carefully constructed fairytale she had been building on hope was crumbling. This was no romantic union. No caring husband to share her life with. This was merely a business deal that left her panting with longing for what could have been. Her head dropped, pressed down by the revelations swirling through her mind.

  “I was born near the Thames, Jonathan, not in it.” She lifted her chin. “I’m your wife. Can’t you tell me what’s wrong?”

  The word wife hung in the air. Was she? She had a marriage license and a signed agreement. But did he truly see her as his other half?

  He ran his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting about the room as if searching for an escape hatch. “I went and visited some of the charities we support today and it got a little hectic.”

  “Hectic meaning…”

  His gaze fell. “I got some blood on my sleeve…from a child with AIDS—”

  She rushed to his side. “Are you okay? Should I take you to the ER?”

  He stepped back from her, disentangling her grasp, lest she sense the how over whelmed he felt. “No, I’m fine. I can handle it. I called my doctor and it’s all okay.”

  Her heart fell. He wasn’t going to let her in. A row of knots formed in her stomach. She’d been praying for him constantly, so why was their relationship growing more distant? Perhaps he was merely tolerating her, like an enterprise gone sour. “Well then,” she handed him the gift bag. “It looks like you have everything under control.” She spun around, hiding the tears welling in her eyes, and headed for her bedroom.

  “Em.”

  The tenderness wrapped up in that one syllable stopped her in her tracks. “Yes,” she said without turning around.

  “Next week, Wednesday, I’ve set up some events at three children’s hospitals. Would you consider coming with me?”

  She gripped her hands. Thank you, Lord. She dabbed her welling eyes, then whirled around. “I’d love to.”

  But he was already staring into an open refrigerator.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Emma stacked the colorful blocks in the hospital playroom for the umpteenth time and let the little girl whose head was swathed in a white bandage knock it down. The tinkle of her high-pitched laughter made Emma smile. She loved children.

  Many of the parents stuck resolutely by their own kids, until Emma encouraged them to mingle with the other families gathered. She snuck a peek at two moms, pleased to see them comparing their children’s baby pictures.

  As Emma moved around the balloon-decorated area, her gaze searched until it rested on Jonathan. He stood surrounded by reporters, who were doing a piece on the Steller Foundation and their plans for the future. She liked how his blond hair was cut in a short masculine fashion. He wore a crisp, navy blue suit with a faint gray pin stripe—he’d even asked her to pick out his yellow tie.

  She smiled at the memory of him this morning, holding up a wilted gathering of silk ties, his shirt unbuttoned, his mussed hair still damp. A wifely moment. Oh, that there could be more of those.

  Her ears pricked up at the rich timbre of his confidant voice. She admired the way he spoke, deftly presenting himself and the charity to the media, as if he’d been born in front of the camera. Jonathan was perfect for this job. And he was dedicated to moving the Steller company forward. Whilst her father had never down an honest day’s work in his life.

  When Jonathan’s gaze found hers, her face grew hot. Her stomach swirled. He’d already caught her staring at him twice. The more she got to know him, the more attractive he became.

  Emma turned her attention to a little boy in a wheelchair who wasn’t playing with any of the toys set up for the event. A twinge of sadness hit her. Perhaps the child couldn’t move his limbs. Maybe he was too weak from chemotherapy to play. She found a bottle of bubbles and sat next to him.

  She glanced at his name tag. “Brett, how do you work this thing?” She huffed out a few mediocre blows. “I can’t seem to make any bubbles. Could you help me?”

  At first, he hung his head and fought to hide a grin. Then he leaned forward, toward the wand, and blew. Five fat bubbles floated up in the air, bolstered by the air coming down from a vent above. When the children caught sight of them, they squealed with delight. Brett blew a steady breath again and four more shimmery bubbles wafted into the air. “You got to brow slowee.”

  His lisp warmed Emma’s heart until someone nudged her.

  “Time to go.” Jonathan stood beside her and consulted his watch.

  Emma made a silly face at Brett. “Now? I was just getting to know my new friend.”

  Jonathan glanced around the room without looking at her. “We’ve two other hospitals to visit today.”

  He took her by the hand, but his grasp was cold. Cold like his tone.

  They rode in silence in a limo to the next hospital. Bruised by his brisk demeanor, the view of the limo’s dark interior, stretching out in opulent luxury annoyed her. “Why are we traveling in a gas-guzzling car to an event that is supposed to raise money for children’s hospitals?”

  Jonathan, deep in thought, stared at her. “Because that’s how I travel to all my meetings.”

/>   “But you’re a charity director now, not a corporate business man. Don’t you think the two positions are quite different?”

  Without speaking, he turned his gaze back to the window.

  She folded her arms. If he couldn’t endure a few words of constructive advice—

  “If you want me to drop you off at home, I can.”

  Stunned, she blinked several times before any words came to her. “No, I didn’t mean—” Her mouth went dry. She wanted so desperately to fit in with his world. To make him happy. But it was all turning out badly. “I don’t want to go home. I want to be here with you.”

  “Fine.” Without looking at her, he squeezed her hand. And for the rest of the ride, his hand didn’t move.

  ***

  Jonathan stood back and watched Emma interact with the children at the second hospital, gathered in the castle-themed playroom. Despite their burns, she found ways to engage them in all kinds of play, never once flinching at the horrible scars, or missing limbs. With her cheerful smile and easy manner, she talked with the parents gathered, even teasing one dad into letting her draw a smiley face on his bald head.

  And it was making him miserable.

  All day Jonathan had been wrestling with being a charity director. To think he’d invited her to come out of guilt for keeping his distance, and now all he wanted to do was send her home. Not only was she distractingly beautiful with her bright blonde hair and green eyes, her concerned nature and her ability to interact with parents, sick children, and bossy nurses was as genuine as her cheerful disposition. Qualities he wished he’d had.

  She cared about these people. A trait he desperately needed. And she was right about the limo thing. Why couldn’t he see the need for economy? One thing was becoming very clear to him. He had married up.

  She was an amazing woman. He shifted his stance. Romance wasn’t part of their original agreement. His words, marriage doesn’t have to be an emotionally based pledge, mocked him. Would she consider a marriage on a deeper level, based on love—he clasped and unclasped his hands. What if she didn’t?

  Nick nudged Jonathan. “Your wife’s quite a stunner. A good addition to a man trying to climb to the top, and she’s is a natural for this kind of event. Should we put her on the payroll?”

  Jonathan bristled at Nick’s insinuations. “She’ll do.”

  Geraldine came and stood between the two men. “Emma is so at ease with sick kids. And you’re going to need all the help you can get.” She passed a note to Jonathan. “The puppet show people just called and canceled. They’re stuck in Pacific with an overheated engine.”

  “Can Emma sing or dance?’” Nick chuckled. “At least she looks like a TV star.” Nick clapped Jonathan on the shoulder.

  “No, but she can play the piano.” Jonathan frowned for a minute, remembering he’d never actually heard her play.

  “Okay, well, I’m sure they’ve got a keyboard around here somewhere.” Neal looked over his shoulder. “I’ll see if they can bring one in here.” He headed toward one of the young nurses eyeing him.

  “Wait.” Jonathan grabbed his arm. “I’m not sure.”

  Geraldine shook her head. “The kids seem to be getting restless. You’d better do something.”

  Jonathan’s gaze found Emma as she tucked her blonde hair behind her ear and leaned in toward a girl who was missing an arm. Emma threw back her head and laughed with her eyes shining. Tightness constricted his chest. He felt himself being drawn to her in deeper ways. Was she happy with him? Did she like being his wife? How many children did she want? Boys or girls?

  “They can get a piano.” Nick straightened his tie. “Have you asked her, or do you want me to?”

  “I’ll handle my wife.” Jonathan rubbed his chin. What was important was living up to Steller expectations.

  He snagged Emma’s wrist as she tossed a ball to a boy on crutches. Jonathan leaned in to whisper in her ear, but the fresh floral scent lingering in her hair, distracted his thoughts. He cleared his throat. “Hey, the puppet group that I arranged isn’t able to come.”

  “What are you going to do?” She stared back at him with trusting eyes.

  Nick strode up to them. “They’ll have it here in a few minutes. I let your father know what was going on, but that you had it all under control.”

  “You what?”

  “I just thought we should keep him in the loop.”

  Jonathan shrugged off the uneasy feeling he had about Nick. Sometimes working with him felt like two men on a small platform and one of them was going to get pushed off. “I’ll manage my father too.”

  Cinching his yellow tie back into place, Jonathan remembered his thudding heart this morning as Emma tied it into place. A wave of longing for her rolled over him like a Mac truck. Whoa, buddy. Passion is not on your agenda today. He licked his dry lips, forcing his mind back to the present. “We need entertainment, to keep the press here. I know you said you didn’t want to play the piano—”

  “Jonathan Steller.” A tall man in a dark suit held out his hand. “Gabe Lockwood.”

  Heat prickled Jonathan’s scalp. Was the air-conditioning on? Jonathan shook the man’s hand. “Mr. Lockwood, I’m honored that you could come. With so many hospitals under your watchful eye—”

  “Thirty-four.”

  “Thirty-four?”

  “I run thirty-four hospitals.” Gabe removed an imaginary speck of dust from his sleeve. “So, what do you have planned next? The program says a puppet show. I don’t like my patients disappointed.”

  Jonathan fixed his gaze on Emma. “Would you play, for everyone?”

  Dede stepped in the circle next to Jonathan. “I was just in a meeting with some hospital people and I heard there’s a problem.”

  Jonathan pressed his lips in frustration. Did Nick invite her?

  “You’ve got the press here and everything. This should raise a lot of money. So,” Dede glanced over her shoulder. “You’ve got to keep these events moving. What’s next?”

  “Emma?” Jonathan asked.

  Emma cast a glance at Dede. “I’ll play.”

  As if on cue, a grand piano and a bench were rolled into a corner of the room. The children stopped playing and the parents urged them to sit down.

  Emma watched the instrument settle into place. She looked so pretty in her light blue sheath dress. She looked…very still. He wanted to apologize to her for putting her on the spot, but everyone was hovering around them.

  She moved toward the piano as if in a trance and sat on the bench. She smoothed out her dress tucked her hair behind her ears.

  Jonathan bent over her. “You have no idea what this means to me—”

  “I can’t. I’m sorry.” She pulled her shaking hands back from the keyboard. “I know I’m letting you down, I know I’m a failure, but I can’t.” She pushed past him, Dede, Nick and Geraldine and scurried for the door.

  Jonathan’s heart lurched. What had he done? He started after her when a lady reporter stuck a microphone in his face.

  “Mr. Steller, can you tell us anything about your move from the Steller Corporation to the Steller Charity?”

  Jonathan focused his gaze on his last glimpse of Emma. As she passed through yet another set of glass doors, he saw her wipe tears from her face. He whirled around, his hands shoved onto his hips. What was he thinking?

  “Mr. Steller?”

  The impatient voice of the reporter and the glare of the bright lights from the camera brought him back to reality. He whirled back around. “I’m—what?”

  “I want to know about your future plans with the Steller Corporation.”

  He craned his neck to see if he could catch another glimpse of his wife. “My plans are…walking out the door. Excuse me.”

  He strode past the reporter and dashed through the sets of doors and outside to the parking lot. The limousine was just leaving. He ran over to it and pounded on the last window. The darkened glass slowly rolled down. The look of betrayal on her fa
ce combined with her wet cheeks was a lethal weapon.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what possessed me to ask you to perform.”

  “I don’t expect you to understand.”

  “No. You’re my wife. What kind of man puts his wife in such a situation?”

  “A woman who’s merely a wife on paper.” The window closed up and the car pulled away.

  ***

  Nick saw Jonathan leaving and stepped into the light of the TV cameras, flashing his perfect smile. “I’m Mr. Nick Steller, and I can answer any questions you might have about the Steller organization. The owner, Mr. Steller, is my uncle and I work closely beside his son.”

  The red-headed woman reporter smiled back at him. “How long have you worked for the Stellers?”

  “As a close cousin, I don’t see myself working for the Stellers, but working for family.”

  “And where do you see yourself in ten years?”

  “Wherever my Uncle Hans thinks I can best move the company forward. My talents have always been in Product Development, but we’ll see.”

  “And Mr. Jonathan Steller? Why has he been moved to the Charity Division?”

  “I never question my uncle’s decisions.” Nick leaned in. “And there are certain things that,” he made a face, “should stay within the family.”

  ***

  “Long after the last hospital event ended and everyone headed home, Jonathan trudged into his office. Tension thumped in his head. He pulled open a drawer, looking for headache medicine and found none. He eased onto his chair and held his throbbing head. What a complete failure the day was.

  Dede ended up saving the day by offering face painting and somehow coming up with a DVD of the latest kid flick that hadn’t even hit the theaters yet. He merely stood by completely paralyzed by the situation.

  He rubbed his tired eyes. He needed to get home to Emma to apologize. To confess he didn’t fully grasp her reasons for her not wanting to play, but that he hadn’t forgotten that she told him upfront. The blinking light on his phone compelled him to play the message it held.