A British Bride by Agreement Read online

  “Which do you like best?” he asked.

  Emma shook her head, unable to drag her gaze away from the beautiful clothing. “All of them.”

  “I know which one I like, the white and pinkish one. Would you try it on?”

  Before she could answer, Madame Durand took her drink, set it down, and led her to the dressing room. Emma looked over her shoulder at Jonathan, whose arms were folded across his chest. He was studying her from top to bottom.

  Her face radiating heat, she stepped into the mirrored dressing room and Madame shut the door. Emma slipped out of her sundress and allowed the pink and white luxurious garment to slide over her head in a sheath of cool fabric. High-heeled flesh-toned pumps in several sizes were brought in, and once she was properly shod, she was led out in front of Jonathan.

  A smile tugged across his lips. “Beautiful. Do you like it?”

  A giddy sensation teased Emma. This was like a dream. “Of course.”

  Madam Durand scoffed. “When you’re weeth a Steller, you get whatever you wish.”

  Her words were like a splash of cold water. Emma’s giddiness vanished. Bitter memories flooded into her mind. Her mother’s obsession with the latest fashions, her father’s name-dropping. Emma had vowed never to get caught up in an affluent life style again. The idea of being enslaved to keeping up a posh image made her insides go icy.

  Madame led her back toward the dressing room and handed her a garment bag with her summer dress inside.

  “Oh, thank you, but I think I’ll put my summer dress back on.” For a fleeting moment, the compulsion to tear off the exquisite designer dress and put the aqua one back was overwhelming. How could she even consider living this kind of life again? Just the memory of her family endlessly trying to keep up with the right people, by wearing the right clothes, and being invited to the right parties brought back a wave of repulsion.

  “No, you will wear the dress Mr. Steller approves of.” She slipped from the dressing room, leaving Emma alone with her thoughts.

  Emma looked at herself in the full length mirror again. The dress was exquisite, but she felt as if she was being lulled into this care-free, money-is-no-object world and it wasn’t what she wanted. Jonathan was known as a jet setter with a beautiful woman on each arm—so why was she even considering this agreement? And why was he considering her? She was far from beautiful socialite.

  Her shoulders slumped. Even greater was the disappointment that obviously God didn’t know or care about the trouble that she was in. How daft of her to think that just maybe God had sent Jonathan to rescue her. But He wouldn’t have sent someone whose lifestyle repulsed her? She took in a deep breath and let it out slowly to hold back her tears. To get through this evening, her British stiff upper lip would come in very handy.

  Jonathan Steller was not the man for her.

  She proceeded from the dressing area, searching for the words to tell him that she didn’t want the dress, or to go to dinner, but he strode out from another room, where he had changed into a stunning black tuxedo, she momentarily lost her breath. The sight of his handsome figure made her forget her concerns like the last note on a sheet of music. “You look quite… lovely.”

  He tugged at his cuff links. “I think you English think everything is lovely.”

  “I meant to say handsome.” Heat prickled her scalp. She hadn’t meant to say any of that out loud.

  He took her by her arm and directed her to the north end of the store. “It’s time to go. We’re already late. I don’t want to disappoint my family.”

  His voice had that formal edge back again. One minute he appeared warm and friendly, and then he would slip behind a distant, professional persona. As he propelled her to the back of the store, she fought with her conflicting emotions. As soon as dinner was over, she would escape from his plans, like Cinderella at midnight. This contract to marry, this bride by agreement, was quite ridiculous, and it would never work.

  He led her through a rear VIP exit to a parking lot where, instead of the sports car he’d driven all day, an idling white limousine awaited them like a carriage for royalty. He opened the door and bowed with a smile. “My lady.”

  Was she dreaming? With her new dress, and smart escort, she did feel like Cinderella. Maybe, she reasoned, it was only 8:00 p.m. She could enjoy this fairytale night for a bit longer, and then escape.

  Inside the cocooned atmosphere of the limo, she stared idly out the window as they drove down Lindbergh Boulevard. Her conflicting thoughts—wanting to run from this status-obsessed way of life, and yet enjoying getting to know Jonathan and still hoping that God would somehow show up in all of this, battled furiously. This unpayable debt was forcing her to regard options no sane person would consider.

  Jonathan’s offer of marriage.

  Her parents offer of illegal money.

  Or a prison roommate named Spike.

  Jonathan, who’d been texting on his smart phone, leaned in, just a bit, so that his shoulder was now touching hers. She wrapped her arms around herself, overwhelmed by his masculine warmth. The powerful aura he presented made her feel as if she was swimming in water over her head. She pressed her eyes shut. How would she get out of the deep end?

  She glanced at his profile for some clue as to how he was feeling and saw nothing until he turned. His gaze roved over her face and hair as if taking her in for the first time, but yet revealing no emotion.

  He leaned toward her.

  Her heart sped up. Was he going to kiss her?

  “I was thinking,” he pushed a button, and two green colored sodas rose steadily out of a cabinet, next to two glasses filled with ice. “A week from today? For the wedding?”

  A week? The air felt suddenly thick. A million protests rushed to her lips. She brushed her hair back from her forehead. “First of all, I can’t possibly plan—”

  “Mother, with some help from my assistant, Nick arranges all the Steller family social events.” He studied her reaction. “I’ve had her get a few things arranged, nothing that can’t be canceled. She makes a couple of calls and the caterer, musicians, bakers, candlestick makers show up on time and in uniform. I don’t know how she does it.”

  Panic welled in Emma’s throat. She rubbed her temples. Fear was closing in on her like a used car salesman. Her mind groped for something from which to begin her protests. “The honeymoon?” She nearly choked on the words. “I don’t think I’m ready for—”

  “Of course, I understand.” He handed her a glass. “We need time to adjust to each other. I thought for our trip, we could stay in a two-bedroom suite at my favorite resort in Munich, Germany. Oktoberfest will have just started and there will be lots of things to do.”

  What could she say? It was all being neatly arranged. God, please stop me if I’m going against Your will.

  “Maybe, okay.” The words floated past her lips and she wrestled with wanting to snatch them back. Despite her nerves, a feeling of peace lingered. “I will consider your offer. But if I was to agree to er… your agreement, I have one request.” Her head dipped for a moment. The horrific memory of the last time she played piano professionally came back to her in a rush.

  The piano keys had become blurry. Her hands shook. The room felt like it was spinning. A panic attack at seventeen ended her public performances. “Please don’t ever ask me to play the piano.”

  His brows scrunched together. “I thought you liked it?”

  “I do, for myself, and for you, maybe…” Except she hadn’t touched her piano in over two years. She hid her trembling hands as just the thought of playing added to the fright welling up inside of her. “I just don’t ever want to be asked to perform in front of a crowd again.”

  “No problem.” He clinked his glass with hers.” Here is to considering our future.”

  She let out a sigh of relief and let the taste of the fizzy sweet soda fill her parched mouth. “But I would like to teach piano. To children. Do you mind?”

  A slow grin tugged acros
s his lips. “No, of course not. I’m glad you like children—I’m looking forward to having some, someday...” His voice trailed off as if he’d revealed a part of himself he wasn’t ready to share.

  Silence hung in the air between them.

  Emma looked out the window. She couldn’t tell him about the panic attacks that ended her professional piano career. She would never tell him what a disaster her first marriage was. And she would never tell him about what happened to her last summer. She couldn’t fathom what he saw in her that made her worthy to be his wife. But it didn’t matter. God would lead her, and she would follow. Even if it led to a mansion.

  ***

  In less time than it took to make a cup of tea, their limo pulled up to an unassuming Spanish style building of the St. Louis Country Club. Emma took Jonathan’s hand and followed his brisk steps inside. She kept her posture taut, hoping his family would approve of her. Or did she care? Was she foolish to still be going along with Jonathan’s proposal? Once inside, they were ushered into a private room where Jonathan introduced her.

  “Mother, Father, I’d like you to meet, Emma Banks.”

  An older woman dressed in a sapphire blue suit with diamond earrings and heavy diamond rings cluttering her fingers paced over to them. She hugged Jonathan first.

  A sick feeling hit Emma’s stomach. She forced her lips into a wide smile, pretending to be thrilled to meet what could be her future mother-in-law.

  Mrs. Steller took Emma’s hands in her own. Emma expected them to be stiff. They weren’t. Even more surprising was the gaze that met her own—a look that sparkled with warmth and kindness, instead of the calculating appraisal she’d anticipated.

  “Emma. What a beautiful name. I want you to know, I have been praying for you.” Light literally glimmered from the older woman’s face.

  “Thank you,” Emma said, despite the tightness in her throat. Mrs. Steller’s kindness took her off guard. “And it’s a pleasure to meet you as well.”

  Mr. Steller and Jonathan merely nodded at each other, and then he held out his hand toward Emma. “Jonathan, has told me so many astonishing things about you,” he cast a wary glance at Jonathan. “I’m surprised you’re a mere mortal.”

  Emma shot a glance between Jonathan’s parents as she shook Mr. Steller’s hand. What had Jonathan told them? Did they know their relationship was in fact, a business deal? The joy that beamed from their faces surprised Emma. In the moneyed circles she’d been raised in, she’d never met a wealthy couple who glowed with such happiness. What made them different?

  Jonathan took her hand and led her to her seat. He leaned in. “I hope their enthusiasm didn’t embarrass you?”

  “No,” she whispered back. “They’re wonderful.”

  Lines etched either side of his slight grin. She had never noticed them before, or how square the cut of his jaw was. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. Don’t go falling for him. That isn’t part of the agreement. Emma glanced at two empty chairs as she sat. She tilted in toward Jonathan. “Who else is coming?”

  He frowned. “Mother who’s—”

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I called Janette and Jennifer home to meet Emma, too.” Mrs. Steller leaned across the table.

  “Good, you didn’t eat without us.” A slim, blonder, female version of Jonathan stepped into the room, followed by a pretty brunette.

  Jonathan moved from his seat and walked around to the other side of the long table to embrace his sisters. “I thought you two were still shopping in Munich.”

  “We were, but Father sent the jet to fly us back for some family event. What’s the scoop?” The taller of the two sisters walked passed her brother and made her way over to Emma. “I know. Jonathan has talked this beautiful gal into marrying him.” She leaned in to hug Emma. “I’m so sorry, but you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.”

  Emma swallowed hard. “Mistake?”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Jonathan froze. Emma’s suddenly pale expression flashed like a beacon of alarm. Surely she knew his sister was joking? He kept his stride calm, resisting the urge to race to Emma’s side. What happened to him? Somehow, in bringing Emma to meet his family and win their approval he realized how much he wanted her to agree to marry him.

  Jonathan shot a glance at Jennifer’s mischievous grin. Was she telling Emma about the time they took their golf cart and rode it down the highway? Or maybe the Christmas when Jonathan saw Santa Claus kiss his mother and he had punched the white-bearded guy in the stomach? Surely his sisters wouldn’t reveal any details of his wild partying days. His shoulders slumped. Of course, every sordid detail had been played out in tabloids in St. Louis, but surely Emma never read any of those.

  But when Emma pressed a hand to her mouth and tears filled her eyes, a warning filled him. Had she changed her mind?

  “Jennifer, what are you telling our guest? She looks positively shocked.” His mother picked up her menu.

  Jonathan came and stood by Emma and as he leaned down to whisper in her ear, her light floral scent stirred the consuming attraction he’d thought he’d permanently shoved away. Running his fingers through his hair, he willed his thoughts to be practical, and not the least bit romantic. This was a business deal that he had to close. “Whatever she’s told you,” he spoke quietly, “it’s not true.”

  Her eyes widened. “She said I’m making the biggest mistake of my life.”

  His traitorous heart lurched. The realization engulfed him that she was someone he cared for very deeply. A rush of longing parched his mouth and every persuasive deal-making, business savvy word he knew, lodged in the back of his throat.

  Emma, with her sparkling green eyes, her quick smile, her spark of joy, was someone he needed more than he wanted to admit. Feeling out of control, he tried to return his focus on his goal to gain her consent to the agreement, but right now her full lips were only an inch away from his and he wanted to kiss them. Anxious not to lose her, he sat down and took her face in his hands. “What do you believe?”

  Her gaze was steady. “That for some daft reason God has picked you for me to marry.”

  He fought the overwhelming urge to pull her into his arms and hold her close. What was his problem? His blood surged through his veins. If he didn’t curb his attraction to her, this could be the biggest mistake of his life.

  “So, you will marry me?” He held his breath. He really didn’t want to be so fascinated. He didn’t want to make a bad decision. He didn’t want to let his heart be vulnerable to a woman again, no matter how beautiful the face, how soft the skin—

  “Yes.”

  He resisted the impulse to scoop her up and swing her around. He pressed his lips together. She said yes! “Should we tell them?”

  She swallowed, and then looked up at him with trusting eyes.

  His gaze fell to the floor. He didn’t deserve her. She was putting her future into his hands, not knowing that he needed her to advance his career. That he had been plotting this moment since he saw her at her husband’s funeral, looking lushishly beautiful in all black. But she needed him financially, he reasoned. And she knew it was an agreement. His heart hammered in his chest with the strength of a train speeding down a train track. He looked up at her tentative smile.

  “Yes, let’s tell them.”

  Energy shot through his entire body. Determined to seize the moment, he pulled Emma to her feet and squeezed her hand. “I have an announcement to make. Emma has agreed to become the next Mrs. Steller.”

  “Oh, wonderful.” His mother beamed.

  The tinkling of glasses sounded around him. His parents and sisters were laughing and tapping their glasses with their spoons, demanding they kiss.

  His smile was plastered on. He didn’t know if he could handle kissing her.

  But despite his protestations, his sisters were practically shouting, “Kiss her!”

  He reached over and held Emma’s face in his hands, but when he did, Emma stiffened. Did she regret h
er decision? Alarm bells rang in his head. He should have chosen someone more plain, or selfish, or obsessed with wealth like Dede. Emma was too sweet, too real, and way too good-looking. He was losing control of his emotions.

  The clanging insistence that they kiss continued to fill his ears.

  Her green eyes looked up at him unquestioning.

  He clenched his jaw. He didn’t want to fall in love, but Emma’s lips were so tempting. He leaned in toward them, hoping he could stop at just a short kiss.

  As he pressed his mouth to her soft, warm lips, the sounds of laughing, and tinkling glass faded away, and his attraction to her deepened with each passing second. And when she touched his face with her fingertips, it felt as if he were being branded. His lips searched her mouth parting her lips slightly. An engulfing heat filled his body. He wanted to linger there, to pull her closer, to tell her this was becoming way more than an agreement, but somehow he summoned the strength to pull back. Emma didn’t look at him, but he could feel her body trembling. The kiss didn’t last long enough according to his sister’s protests, but for Jonathan, it was too long. Too intimate. Too dangerous.

  He sat back into his seat and casually took a long drink of water. How could he keep his heart from falling for her?

  “I hope you don’t mind, Jonathan, but when you asked me to check on dates, I had to move your wedding up a day.” His mother directed the waiters to begin service.

  “A day?” He kept his gaze away from Emma.

  His mother shrugged her shoulders. “Nick told me that Jack Standish had a conflict, so I changed the day to accommodate his schedule.”

  Emma leaned in toward Jonathan. “Mr. Jack Standish? As in the president, Jack Standish? The president of the country?”

  “And of the city and the national forest.” Jonathan took in her questioning gaze. So unusual from all the jaded girls he’d dated in the past. He tore his gaping stare away, uncomfortable with the knots in his stomach. His feelings for her were developing way beyond mutual respect and moderate admiration. How could the pull toward her be so strong so soon? He didn’t need messy and complicated emotions. He’s been blinded by them once before. Never again. “We’ve been friends with the Standish family since my father was a boy.”