Convenience

Part 13

"My grandfather paid you to marry me." She told him coolly. She reached for the door handle.

David winced. He couldn't help it. It might be a perfect description for the scenario, but it was still rather too blunt to warrant consideration in those terms, even if she did. Clearly his paper wife did not harbour any illusions about their marriage of convenience.

"We both know that. Let's not pretend otherwise." She moved to open the door, using the movement to put some distance between them, without it looking as if she was unnerved by his closeness and running away.

Beatrice had spent many a sleepless night working through the conversation she'd sat in on when their grandparents had sorted out the agreement. She knew she was simply part of a trade. As far as she was concerned, he had got a bargain really!

Beatrice kept her hand on the door handle as she pointed out the obvious. "You married me. You upheld your end of the deal. We are financially square." Beatrice told him, her eyes defying him, her chin tipped forward. Even after five years she still felt raw about the deal. Yes, ok, the man married her. On paper, he met his obligations. Her grandfather had injected the cash David needed to keep the Cardoso business afloat, during those crucial turbulent months, and David had given her his name. But that apparently was all she was worth. All she was entitled to: His name, but nothing else. It wasn't the first time that Beatrice found herself thinking that her grandfather had clearly misjudged the man.

"I disagree." David replied coolly and followed her to the door. His hand stayed hers as she went to turn the handle. The contact between skin had both of them moving apart quickly. Static, he thought as he dropped his hand.

Beatrice was slower to come up with a reason. Her brain waves started to dance in panic. When was the last time they had touched? When he had slid that wedding band on her finger, her brain reminded her. But she couldn't remember this jolt of electricity at the point of contact. Perhaps because at the time she was operating on automatic pilot going through with a marriage that was anything but romantic. So even if there had been a frisson of attraction, she doubted she would have registered it at the time.

David reached for his wallet, extricated a card and handed it to her. It struck him as rather odd that he was giving his wife his card so that she'd have his full contact details. David gave her the card in silence. Automatically Beatrice took it and studied it as if it was a winning lottery ticket. The contact between skin was still pulsing through her system. They'd touched before, when he'd put the ring on her finger, five years ago, but there hadn't been this surge of feeling through every cell. It was something she would think about later. For at the moment it just didn't make sense. How could she react to a man she had not seen in five years, a man she had not reacted to five years ago?

David said, "My mobile number is on that. We need to discuss this." He knew he sounded as if he was giving orders in a board meeting, and he knew, from her body language that she did not take to his orders. "Contact my PA to arrange a mutually convenient time."

Beatrice was ready to shout at David in no uncertain terms. Contact his PA? He had to be kidding. She remembered the days, weeks, months that immediately followed her grandfather's funeral. She had dealt with his PA five years ago. She had no intention of working through his PA again. She wasn't sure if it was the same person, but that wasn't the point. She was not going to be managed by his lackeys. If he wanted to discuss things then he could jolly well pick up the phone himself! Before she could shout at him she reeled herself in.

Before she could do anything about his statement, he reached past her, and opened the door and then strode past her. She'd seemed way too in control, and he knew he needed to rethink how he was going to handle this woman. She was not the woman he was expecting. He'd been expecting someone demure, someone pliable, someone without substance. What he'd encountered was someone quietly composed and with enough backbone to construct a T-Rex.

"Fine." Beatrice muttered to thin air and watched him as he strode away.

He cut a dashing figure, and given the number of women who also watched him walk away, she was clearly not the only one who thought the man was attractive. The difference was, that she, unlike the other women present in the room, was not looking to engage him in any way. She unlike the other women did not want to have anything to do with him. The divorce, now that it was finally going to come to fruition was probably the best thing, in the long run. She wasn't sure why she'd felt that jolt of electricity, but that changed nothing. They were finally going to put an end to this sham of a marriage.

David strode away feeling oddly unsettled. As he left the room he glanced over his shoulder and saw her watching him. Their eyes met and held. Then her attention was diverted. David left. They would meet soon enough. To discuss financial matters and to finalise the divorce settlement details. That had him smiling. He was looking forward to meeting her again.