Merger By Matrimony

By: Cathy Williams

‘Who are you and what do you want?’ Destiny said tensely. ‘The security guard is within shouting distance so don’t even think of getting up to anything.’

‘What sort of thing do you imagine I might be getting up to?’ he asked coolly. ‘A bit of forcible entry, perhaps? Some looting and pillaging?’ His voice was deep and smooth.

‘Goodbye.’ She stepped back and began closing the door to find his hand placed squarely on it. An immovable force.

‘Are you Destiny Felt?’

The question froze her, allowing him the opportunity to push the door back and step into the hall, where the overhead light revealed an even more intimidating face than she’d gleaned from the semi-obscure darkness outside. His features were perfectly chiselled and his eyes were a unique shade of blue, midnight-blue. Cold blue eyes fanned by thick black lashes. Lashes that matched the colour of his hair and which, combined with the sensual lines of his mouth, lent him a powerfully masculine attraction. She took a step backwards and glared belligerently at the man standing in front of her.

‘What business is it of yours?’

‘Destiny Felt, fresh from the Panamanian wilderness? Heir to an unexpected fortune? My, my, my. Lady Luck certainly chose to shine forth on you, didn’t she?’ He looked around him. ‘So this is good old Abe’s place. Quite the change for you, wouldn’t you say?’

‘If you don’t tell me who you are, this instant, I’m calling the police.’ She folded her arms, unconsciously defensive, and stared at the man. When he returned his wandering gaze to her, it was to inspect her with a thoroughness that bordered on intrusive. It didn’t help matters that he was formally dressed while she was in a way too short faded shift, one of the few items of clothing she possessed. Her long legs were too exposed for comfort and, without the reassuring barrier of a bra, her heavy breasts pushed against the dress.

He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. ‘Can’t you guess? Surely Wilson must have mentioned my name in passing?’

‘You’re Callum Ross, aren’t you?’ she said with dawning comprehension. ‘You’re Callum Ross, who arrogantly assumes that he can push his way into this house and take control. Am I right?’ Her hands shifted from chest to hips and she outstared him with an expression of hostility that matched his own. ‘The great and powerful Callum Ross who thinks…what? That he can troop in here uninvited and scare me senseless into doing whatever it is you want? Is that it? Terrify the poor half-witted Destiny Felt because she’s all the way from the middle of nowhere and probably doesn’t know how to use a knife and fork properly, never mind argue back with the formidable Mr Ross and his reputation for scaring his adversaries senseless?’

‘Not quite,’ he snarled, but he had flushed darkly in response to her hurled accusations.

‘Well, it won’t work, Mr Ross. I’m not intimidated by you and I don’t intend to be scared into selling you the company if I don’t choose to sell. Now, get out of this house before I call someone to throw you out.’

Instead of leaving, though, he moved towards her, and she fought to stand her ground. ‘Very fiery,’ he murmured, in a change of tone that was much, much more destabilising. He lifted one hand and casually toyed with a few strands of hair, rendering her even more immobile than she had been. ‘My mother always told me never to play with fire,’ he breathed silkily, ‘but I feel on this occasion I might be forced to disregard her advice.’ He laughed under his breath. ‘Till we meet tomorrow…’


‘AH, MISS FELT. So we meet again. In the light of day.’

Destiny had spent the previous two and a half hours in Derek Wilson’s office, prey to stomach-cramping nerves at the prospect of seeing Callum Ross again, whilst trying to grapple with the complexities of her inheritance. His entrance had been preceded by only the most perfunctory of knocks, and now there he was, looming in the doorway like a dark predator in search of some easy prey. Her, in other words.

Derek had half-risen from his seat. ‘Mr Ross. Good of you to come.’ He looked at both their faces in consternation. ‘What do you mean by we meet again? Do you two know each other?’

‘Mr Ross saw fit to pay me an unexpected visit last night,’ Destiny said tightly.

‘That, Mr Ross, was quite unorthodox, as you must well know. I have all the relevant papers here and I object to you using intimidation to try and manipulate my client. This matter needs to be discussed in a rational, civilised—’

‘Intimidation?’ The dark eyebrows rose expressively as he said this and he made his way to the chair next to Destiny, settling into it without bothering to wait for an invitation to take a seat. ‘Whatever makes you think that I would resort to intimidation to get what I want, Derek?’

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