A Paper Marriage Read Online Free PDF Page A

that-it did seem a bit over the top to have such a pomp of a wedding.

    `The bride's parents are paying for everything,' she felt obligated to admit, her pride taking something of a hammering here. `Look, we're getting away from the point!' she said snappily. `You owe my father money. Money he needs, now, if he is to remain in the only home he has ever known, the home he loves.'

    `Fifty thousand pounds will assure that?' Jonah asked, doubting it.

    `My father has sold everything he can possibly sell in order to meet his debts. All that remains is an overdraft of fifty thousand pounds at the bank that he knows, and they know, he cannot find-nor has any likelihood of finding. They have given him until today to try to find that money anyway. He cannot,' she ended, and her voice started to fracture. `A-and he looks t-terrible.'

    Abruptly she turned away from Jonah, knowing that her emotions as she thought of her dear distracted father had brought her close to tears. She went to stare unseeing out of the window and swallowed hard as she fought for control. Her pride would never survive if she broke down in front of this hard man.

    When she felt she had control she turned towards the door, knowing instinctively that she had pleaded her father's cause in vain. It had been a long shot anyway, she realised. Had Jonah Marriott the smallest intention of repaying that money, he would have done so long before this.

    She took a step to the door-but was halted when Jonah, having not moved from where she had left him, stated, `Obviously your father doesn't know you've come here.'

    Lydie turned. `He's a proud man,' she replied with a tilt of her head.

    `His daughter's pretty much the same,' Jonah said quietly, his eyes on her proud beauty.

    She wished she could agree. Albeit she had not come to the Marriott building for herself, she had not been too proud to come here today-even if that money was still owing. `Should you ever bump into my father, I'd be obliged if you did not tell him I came here,' she requested coldly.

     

    For answer Jonah Marriott went round to his desk. `I won't-but I think he'll know,' he drawled, to her alarm. And, even while she was instantly ready to go for Jonah Marriott's jugular, he was opening a drawer in his desk, taking out a chequebook, and asking, `Who do you want the cheque made out to, Lydie?"

     

    'Y-you'll pay?' she asked, shaken rigid, but in no mind to refuse-no matter how little he offered. He did not answer but picked up his pen. She went over to stand at the other side of his desk. `My father. Would you make it out to my father, please?' she said quickly, before he could change his mind.

    It was done. In next to no time the cheque was written and Jonah was handing it to her across the desk. Hardly daring to breathe, lest this be some sort of evil game he was playing, Lydie inspected the cheque. It was made out to Wilmot Pearson. The date was right. The cheque was signed. But the amount was wrong. Jonah had made it out for fifty-five thousand pounds!

    'Fifty-five thousand... ?"

    'The bank will be adding interest-daily, I don't doubt. Call it interest on the debt.' He meant his debt, of course. Feeling stunned, then beginning to feel little short of elated, Lydie looked up and across at him. She was about to thank him when she looked at the cheque again and noticed that it was not a company cheque, as she would have thought, but a personal cheque and a large chunk of her elation fell away. Anybody could write a personal cheque for fifty-five thousand pounds, but that did not necessarily mean there was any money in that bank account. Was this some kind of sick joke Jonah Marriott was playing, to pay her back for her impertinence in daring to walk unannounced into his office and demand he paid what he owed?

    `There's money in this account to meet this amount?' she questioned.

    `Not yet,' he admitted. Though, before her last ray of hope should disappear, `But there will be...' he paused