A Marriage Fit for a Sinner

Her father huffed, and Zaccheo’s lips thinned into a formidable line. ‘I have no interest in building a relationship with you personally. You can drop dead for all I care. Right after you carry out my instructions, of course.’

‘Young man, be reasonable,’ her father pleaded, realising that for once he’d come up against an immoveable object that neither his charm nor his blustering would shift.

Zaccheo stared back dispassionately. No one in the room could harbour the misguided idea that he would soften in any way.

‘I don’t think you have a choice in the matter, Father,’ Sophie muttered into the tense silence.

Eva glanced at her sister, searching for that warmth they’d once shared. But Sophie kept her face firmly turned away.

Eva jumped as her father pushed back his chair. ‘Fine, you win.’

Zaccheo brushed off imaginary lint from his sleeve. ‘Excellent. And please be sure to give a convincing performance. My people will contact each CEO on that list by Friday. Make sure you get it done by then.’

Her father’s barrel chest rose and fell as he tried to control his temper. ‘It’ll be done. Sophie, we’re leaving.’

Eva started to rise, too, only to find a hand clamped on her hip. The electricity that shot through her body at the bold contact had her swaying on her feet.

‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.

Zaccheo ignored her, but his thumb moved lazily over her hip bone as he addressed her father. ‘You and Sophie may leave. I still have things to discuss with my fiancée. My secretary will contact you with details of the wedding in the next day or two.’

Her father looked from her face to Zaccheo’s. Then he stormed out of the door.

Eva turned to Zaccheo. ‘What more could we possibly have to discuss? You’ve made everything crystal clear.’

‘Not quite everything. Sit down.’ He waited until she complied before he removed his hand.

Eva wasn’t sure whether it was relief that burst through her chest or outrage. Relief, most definitely, she decided. Lacing her fingers, she waited as he dismissed all except one lawyer.

At Zaccheo’s nod, the man produced a thick binder and placed it in front of Zaccheo, after which he also left.

She could feel Zaccheo’s powerful gaze on her, but she’d already unsettled herself by looking at him once. And she was reeling from everything that had taken place here in the last hour.

When the minutes continued to tick by in silence, she raised her head. ‘You want my father to help rebuild the damage he caused to your reputation, but what about your criminal record? I would’ve thought that would be more important to you.’

‘You may marry a man with a criminal record come Saturday, but I won’t remain that way for long. My lawyers are working on it.’

Her heart lurched at the reminder that in a few short days she would be his wife, but she forced herself to ask the question on her mind. ‘How can they do that without implicating my father? Isn’t withholding evidence a crime?’

‘Nothing will be withheld. How the authorities choose to apply the rule of law is up to them.’

Recalling the state of her father’s health, she tightened her fists in anxiety. ‘So you’re saying Father can still go to prison? Despite letting him believe he won’t?’

The kick in his stare struck deep in her soul. ‘I’m the one who was wronged. I have some leeway in speaking on his behalf, should I choose to.’

The implied threat didn’t escape her notice. They would either toe his line or suffer the consequences.

She swallowed. ‘What did you want to discuss with me?’

He placed a single sheet of paper in front of her.

‘These are the engagements we’ll be attending this week. Make sure you put them in your diary.’

She pursed her lips, denying that the deep pang in her chest was hurt. ‘At least you’re laying your cards on the table this time round.’

‘What cards would those be?’

She shrugged. ‘The ones that state your desire to conquer the upper class, of course. Wasn’t that your aim all along? To walk in the hallowed halls of the Old Boys’ Club and show them all your contempt for them?’

His eyes narrowed, but she caught a shadow in the grey depths. ‘How well you think you know me.’

She cautioned herself against probing the sleeping lion, but found herself asking anyway, ‘Why, Zaccheo? Why is it so important that you bring us all down a peg or two?’