A British Bride by Agreement Page 9

  Needing reassurance, Emma called her brother on her cell phone first. She wanted to tell him her good news. He answered it as always, on the first ring, although she had no idea how he did it. “David.”

  “Duckie, how are you? What are you doing?”

  At the sound of her pet name, a tide of relief washed over her. She smiled, picturing him with his thatch of black hair and bushy brows. “Sitting around in my mansion while my servants do my every bidding.”

  “You’re a laugh. Where are you?”

  She leaned in and lowered her voice. “No, really, David, I got remarried.”

  “To a Rockefeller?”

  “Close. A Steller.”

  A low whistle filled her ear. “Brilliant. Well don’t let Mum and Dad hear that. They’ll be onto you faster than a hound at a fox hunt.”

  “I know. Mum already called me.”

  “Oh dear, she’s on the prowl. So who’s the lucky fellow?”

  “Jonathan Steller.”

  “Ah huh. Now I know why you’re worried about mum. So where was my invitation?”

  Emma winced. How could she explain that their marriage was actually a business deal of sorts. “It happened really fast. I didn’t even invite any friends.” She chewed her lower lip. “Do you think Mum and Dad know who I married?”

  “I don’t think so. It hasn’t hit the London papers. Don’t worry. If I sense they’re onto something I’ll send them down a wrong rabbit trail.”

  She leaned back in her chair. “I could always count on you.”

  “Always, Duckie.”

  “Are you doing okay? Are you enjoying life away from mum and dad’s schemes?”

  “Yah, right as rain. Everything is looking up. Fine, definitely fine.”

  Emma frowned at the odd tone to his voice.

  “Well ducks, I’ve got to meet some blokes at the pub.”

  “Okay, bye.” Emma hung up with her brother and noticed an envelope Jonathan left on the table for her. It contained five credit cards with the name Emma Steller embossed on the bottom. She’d never actually held an American Express Black card.

  “Emma!” Laughter followed the calling of her name. Emma turned to see Janette and Jennifer bounding into the room.

  A spurt of longing rolled through Emma. She wanted so badly to be liked by Jonathan’s sophisticated, beautiful sisters, but how could she ever measure up? Janette was twenty-two, with light brown hair and light brown eyes. she acted at times, very serious, but Emma had seen glimpses of the same caring nature that Jonathan had. And Jennifer, at nineteen, was the youngest in the family, with long blonde hair and blue eyes, she appeared more light-hearted, but Emma had already noticed her brilliant mind.

  “Hi, girls. Did you get the gifts we picked out for you?”

  Twirling her wrists, Janette admired her silver bracelet. “This is beautiful. You and my brother have very good taste.”

  Jennifer set her hands on her hips. “So, why did I get the coffee-table book?”

  Emma frowned. That had been her idea. “You didn’t like it? I thought you were fascinated by the history of the German royal family?”

  The girls giggled. “She’s teasing you.” Janette swatted her sister. “Jen is a total egghead, but you’d never know it by the way she dresses.”

  “Just because I love fashion doesn’t make me any less smart.” Jennifer smoothed out her white jeans and lime green knitted top as she leaned in toward Emma. “An egg-head in our family is a person who appreciates good books.”

  “And reading and studying and watching the Discovery channel.” Janette scoffed.

  “Whatever.” Jennifer pulled out a chair and sat next to Emma. “I loved the book. You were so sweet to think of us while you were on your honeymoon. So we thought we’d take you furniture shopping. I mean, this place is a mausoleum. No disrespect to you and Jonathan, but you could house a country in this wing.”

  Emma smiled. Those were her thoughts exactly. “I’d love the help. I have no idea where to start.”

  Janette pulled Emma to her feet. “But first, we have to dress you, girlfriend. When we close down the stores, they expect us to look the part.”

  “Close the store?” Emma directed her gaze between the two girls.

  Jennifer linked her arm through Emma’s. “For security reasons, mom and dad like for us to shop alone.”

  “So they close the whole store for you? For us?”

  Jennifer nodded. “It’s for our protection and to keep away the—”

  “Look at the time.” Janette strode ahead of them. “Already nine-thirty. We need to get going.” Janette trooped into the empty Master Bedroom. “Hey, where’s your stuff?”

  Cringing, Emma stood in the doorway. Neither she nor Jonathan slept in the master bedroom, yet. But how could she explain why they slept in the guest rooms? Separate guest rooms. “We don’t—that is to say—we need more furniture in here first.”

  Undeterred, Janette followed Emma into the guest room’s walk-in closet, and shook her head at the few items hanging there. “And then we’re going clothes shopping.”

  Embarrassed, Emma rubbed her forehead. “I think your mother said she wanted to do that—”

  “And have you looking like someone who thinks Doris Day is hip?” Janette folded her arms.

  Jennifer pulled out a hot pink skirt, white t-shirt, and a hound’s-tooth jacket, a paring Emma never would have considered.

  She added some pearls and a couple of gold chains Jonathan had bought her in Germany. Jennifer held the ensemble high with a dazzling grin on her face. “Voila, fashion created for a Steller.”

  Emma took the outfit into the bathroom, took a quick shower and changed. Staring at her rather doctored-up appearance, she tugged at the jacket. She liked it. It was a nice changed from jeans and a t-shirt. But would she be expected to dress like this every day? Would she ever feel comfortable being a Steller?

  She picked up her purse and headed for the door, suddenly remembering her mother had called. Let her call. Emma dismissed the worry. She was far away from England and her mother could never hurt her again.

  ***

  “Miss Stellers, good morning. I was delighted to get your call. We were only too happy to clear the floor for you.” A man in a black t-shirt and black jacket and jeans greeted them at Bammerts Furniture. To Emma, his tan looked as fake as the zebra rug in the front display.

  Janette pulled Emma forward. “Rex, this is Jonathan’s wife, Emma.”

  Rex shook her hand. “Very nice to meet you. I’d heard the rascal got married. How did you ever tame him?”

  Emma slipped a glance at Jennifer, who rolled her eyes. Relived, Emma ignored the man’s comments. Jonathan had had a reputation as a big spender who dated lots of different women, but she hadn’t seen that side of him. He had changed. Except for his expensive tastes. And that he liked to go shopping. In expensive stores.

  “Emma?” Jennifer and Janette were walking further into the store. “Coming?”

  Emma startled out of her fretting. Living in St. Louis, Emma had heard of Bammerts. They had been in the furniture business in St. Louis since the turn of the century and by the look of the handcrafted, richly textured pieces, they catered to those who had exquisite tastes

  Emma scurried after them until an employee arrived, carrying a tray with glasses filled with ice and several types of Steller Soda stopped her. “Drinks for everyone.”

  “Got any cold Green Tea?” Janette paused.

  Emma blinked. Refuse a Steller soda? Was that even allowed?

  “Just water for me, thanks.” Jennifer pulled Emma toward the sofas.

  Emma took a glass of soda and paced along the long narrow store. The large glass windows revealed the beautiful day, but after they had tried out several couches, she noticed a crowd was gathering outside. “We’d better hurry. Looks like a lot of people are waiting to get in.”

  Jennifer turned her back to the window and sighed. “Photographers again.”

&nb
sp; A shock chilled Emma. She swirled around as the men outside held their cameras high and pressed them against the glass with flashes popping. Her gaze searched the crowd. “Do you see a celebrity?”

  Jennifer pulled Emma behind an armoire. “You are the celebrity.”

  Emma startled. Surely they were joking—

  “You’re a Steller now, and being Jonathan Steller’s wife, people are going to be very interested in you.” Jennifer offered her a sympathetic gaze.

  Emma held her breath, waiting for the punch line, except it never came. She snuck a glance around the tall armoire, remembering her first encounter with them in Germany. Of course, they were news having just wed, but what did they want to write about now? “When will they leave?”

  Janette came and stood by her. “When we do.”

  “We should’ve had Nick come with us.” Jennifer said.

  Janette scanned her cell phone. “Nick loves the paparazzi too much. Knowing him, he’d turn it around and make it an announcement of some new soda he created.”

  Jennifer laughed. “Like Diet Pesto—get it, like Diet Pepsi? Let me see who else I can get to come and escort us home.”

  Taking the phone from her sister, Janette turned it off. “Remember how we got in trouble for not lining up security ahead of time?”

  At the sudden jostling of camera-laden men, Emma stepped back behind the furniture.

  Jennifer sighed. “Besides, Nick will tell Jonathan. He’d do anything to butter him up.”

  Emma’s gaze swerved between the two sisters. She was too shocked by their calm discussion of security and safety to offer any suggestions. And why didn’t they like Nick? He had been very kind to her thus far.

  “I know who we can call who won’t tell.” Jennifer winked at her sister, who eagerly nodded.

  After ten minutes of an intense discussion of lamps, Emma’s attention was drawn again to the crowd outside as they morphed into one ball of frenzied activity. A rumble rose up in the crowd and the sales people rushed to the front entry.

  “Mr. Steller, welcome.” Rex greeted Jonathan. “Your wife is here.”

  Jonathan strode into the room with a blazing look of frustration on his face. “Where is she?”

  ***

  Jonathan found Emma sitting between his two sisters on a long chaise lounge. He let out an even sigh to calm his ire. “Jennifer, what are you doing calling me in the middle of the work day for this?” He waved his arm toward the outside photographers. When he turned around, his frown dropped. “Hello, Emma.”

  Jennifer elbowed her sister. “See, I told you he wouldn’t mind. He’s happy to see his new wife.”

  He sighed as he took in the pink blush of Emma’s cheeks and how great her legs looked in that skirt. He shifted his gaze away.

  Emma stood. “Jonathan, I’m sorry. This is my fault. I didn’t know anything about photographers and the need for security.”

  He shoved his hands to his hips. He wanted to stay mad, but her good looks were melting his annoyance faster than global warming. He turned to his sisters, you both know never to call me at work. Not unless it’s an emergency. I was in a very important meeting.”

  Emma sat back down.

  Tension tightened the back of his neck. Had he hurt her feelings? He softened his tone and nodded at her. “I understand, this can be very overwhelming.”

  “Can you take us to lunch?” Jennifer slung her purse on her shoulder.

  “No, I have to get back to work. Why don’t you stay here and get some ideas before you meet with Franz, the decorator?”

  “What’s the budget?” Janette had a playful smirk on her lips.

  Jonathan shrugged. He didn’t need to be mired in this right now. He had too many other things on his plate. “Three hundred thousand do it?”

  Emma stood, her stance bolted to the floor. It cost that much to furnish their home? She’d never get it done.

  “Great. Well, we’re going.” Janette slipped on her sun glasses. “Neither Rome nor your new wing will be furnished in a day.”

  Jonathan’s phone rang again. He pressed his lips and glanced at it. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Okay.” Jennifer kissed her brother on the cheek. “You can go out the front and distract the photo hounds while we slip out the back.”

  Janette waved at her brother and left Emma and Jonathan alone.

  Suddenly, his mouth felt dry. “Are you okay with all of this?” He gestured at the crowd outside.

  She started to step in towards him, and then pulled back. “I was a little taken off guard.”

  It seemed as if a gulf of space existed between them. Where had the intimacy of the last week gone? His cell phone jarred his ear again. He glanced at it. “It’s my father, I have to go.” On impulse he stepped forward and gave her soft cheek a kiss. Desire stirred in him—alonging to steal her away. He started to say more, but he needed to get back to work. He didn’t have the time for distractions, even attractive ones. “I’m…bye.”

  “Bye.”

  “I’ll see you tonight at the dinner.” He squared his shoulders and headed for the front doors.

  “What dinner?”

  Guilt stilled him. Had he been too busy with the wedding and trip to Germany to explain what their schedule would be like? He turned around and paced toward her. “We have dinners to attend for the next four nights. I’ll have Orlando drive you, as I’ll have to come from the office.”

  Did her shoulders wilt? He wanted to tell her—that he missed her. That she was never far from his thoughts, but his cell phone was ringing again and out of the corner of his eye, he could see the photographers getting restless.

  “You’d better go.”

  By the sad tug on her lips, his stance wilted. She wasn’t happy. But this way of life, the dinners, the photographers, the demands on his time was part of the agreement. So why did that reasoning leave him feeling so miserable?

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Emma shifted in her strapless red gown and fiddled with the napkin on her lap. She sat at a long imposing table ornamented with tall gilded candelabras, exotic flowers, and dangerously fragile-looking antique dishes. The vaulted ceiling, posh drapes, gold framed pictures of important ancestors inspecting the dining room, added to her nervous tension. Next to her sat Laura Dillingham, the Attorney General for the state of Missouri and on the other side sat Liesel Hoffmiser, the well-known German cookbook author. What did she have to say to these very important women?

  Jonathan sat across from her and down a few places. They had seen little of each other, as he’d arrived after they had been seated for dinner. He offered her a smile and lifted his water glass toward her. He mouthed the word, beautiful, and a rush of pleasure infused her. His sisters had taken her shopping and once they’d convinced her to stop looking at the price tags, she found four gorgeous dresses for the week’s dinners. She hoped he would like them.

  She took a sip of her water, but when she looked back, he was engrossed in conversation with the stunning red head next to him. Maybe she should have worn the emerald dress?

  Waiters leaned in as if on cue and set steaming bowls of soup down in unison. Lobster Bisque. A laugh caught in Emma’s throat. She flashed a peek at Jonathan who was staring back at her with a glimmer in his eyes. How she wished she could be next to him. But when she looked back, Red-Head Lady was nudging him with her elbow and drew his attention way again.

  Emma blew out a sigh.

  “Do you not like your soup?” Liesel Hoffmiser lifted one eyebrow.

  Emma quickly took a sip of the bisque. “No, it’s lovely.”

  “You’re English.”

  “Most amiably.”

  Liesel nodded. “I’m just doing the final edits on my next cookbook project on how the German culture has influenced English cooking.”

  Immediately, the two fell into a deep conversation about restaurants in London and English attitudes toward food. Emma enjoyed talking with the woman as the two analyzed each dish they were serv
ed. At the end of the meal, Emma stood and as she did, Jonathan captured her hand. “I see you’ve met Liesel.”

  The warmth of his hand muddled Emma’s words. “We, I did, we are, were—”

  “You have a brilliant wife. She has given me many wonderful ideas on English food. I may have to meet with her again to discuss my next cook-book project.”

  Emma flushed at the sight of Jonathan’s tender smile. He squeezed her hand and all her doubts about the Red-Head Lady that had distracted him all evening disappeared.

  “I am very proud of her, but now I must take her home.” He linked his arm with hers and after a quick thank you to the host and hostess, steered her toward the front doors.

  “Jonathan.” A tall blonde with cascading curls in a form-fitting designer dress scurried toward them as they breezed through the entry hall. “I’m so glad I caught up with you. I didn’t have a chance to return your call today.” She fixed her excited gaze on Emma and held out her hand. “I’m Dede.”

  Dede? Emma squelched a wave of insecurity as she took in the woman’s model-like figure. She recognized Dede from magazines, but in person, her blue eyes practically glowed. Her skin flawless. Her figure perfection. Emma shot a glance at Jonathan whose gaze was fixed on the woman’s face.

  “We can talk later, Dede.” His voice sounded guarded.

  “Of course. I don’t want to bore your wife with shop talk, but I wanted to congratulate you both.” She shook Emma’s hand with her elegant manicured one.

  I look bloated in this dress. Emma swallowed back her concerns. “Nice to meet you.”

  “I knew it would take someone very special to capture Jonathan. And I see he’s been truly captured.”

  Emma wilted further. The lady was gorgeous and nice.

  “Well, good to see you again.” Jonathan’s tone sounded disinterested, but why was he phoning her?