Emily French Read Online Free PDF Page B

eased his leg back against the sofa, watching her, a cool, flicking assessment in his bright blue eyes. Sophy could feel the probing inspection as if he had reached out and touched her.
    Something feminine and disturbing flowed down her spine. She shifted uncomfortably, unable to look away from his suddenly hooded gaze.
    “I take it that this is the end of our negotiations? That you will not come up with new demands and stipulations every other day?” His voice was steady and calm, though she could feel the coiled energy in him.
    Sophy felt herself blush at the gibe, but she felt a sense of relief that he was willing to ignore the tension flowing between them. She had to establish firm terms and conditions in her relationship with this man, or she would be lost. She lifted one shoulder and shrugged dismissively.
    “Of course not.” She moved her head once in denial. “I simply wanted to have things cut-and-dried before you committed yourself. There is one more thing, though.” She was annoyed to recognize the hint of uncertainty in her voice.
    “Let’s hear it.” There was resignation in his tone, but wry humor flickered behind the dark lashes and tugged at the corners of his mouth.
    Sophy drew in a deep breath and let him have it. “As I mentioned earlier, I was actively involved in many of my father’s financial dealings. I would like to learn all I can about textile manufacturing as well, assist where I can.”
    There was a charged silence while Seth digested her proposal. He sat there, looking as if he were reflecting on his response as he idly ran a finger around the rim of his coffee cup.
    Sophy eyed his lowered lashes, a queer feeling in her stomach. It was like a great bubble that threatened to expand and explode the fantasy she had begun to weave about the nature of this man.
    It was this element of uncertainty that caused the powerful effect on her. Her heart beat a slow thud, pressing the bubble up behind her breastbone, pounding a thought into her brain.
    Had she made a terrible miscalculation?
    The silence was becoming more than a little frightening when he looked up suddenly, his decision made.
    “Fair enough. I have no objection. If you accept that I reserve the right to try to influence your decisions, you have a deal,” he agreed easily.
    The small victory banished Sophy’s apprehension. Once again she felt in charge of the situation. The notion was strangely satisfying. Sufficient for her to proceed recklessly.
    “As my wedding gift, Mr. Weston, I intend handing over my father’s entire estate to you. It is not insubstantial and will make the payment of your debts infinitely easier and any plans for expansion less troublesome. Unless you have any objections, I shall retain only those assets and funds I have acquired through my own endeavours.”
    Seth gritted his teeth, reached for the cane and started to get to his feet. And he had thought she was vulnerable, a target for fortune hunters like himself!
    An uneasy shiver feathered his spine and he shook his head. He had a gut feeling she was not going to be the biddable, obedient wife Matt Tyson had promised.
    “The idea of a wife who drives a hard bargain intrigues me, Sophy van Houten.” He slanted her a deliberate glance. “It’s going to be interesting being married to you.”
    He had never envisaged that married life was going to be a pleasant experience, not by any stretch of the imagination. The point to recognize was that Sophy van Houten was only a woman, and an unseasoned little squab at that.
    He had merely to show her who was in charge, and all would be well. Seth Weston was a man used to giving orders, and to seeing them obeyed.
    Time enough after they were married to bring her to heel. He had other things to do today. He was going to visit Wall Street and give a certain banker a small but hopefully salutary piece of his mind.
    Sophy’s eyes were bright and steady with exhilaration as the door closed behind him. Every hope she