Undressed By His Legal Services: Marry Me Again

Richard had always been the buffer. She might have resented him. But when creditors pushed, Richard had handled it.

When she couldn’t understand the financial mess her father left behind, he had dealt with it. Now she had managed to piss him off badly enough that he was stepping away.

For the first time, the debt was fully hers. She exhaled slowly. She would have to put all the profit from Ginny’s wedding toward the debt.

And maybe the wedding could give her some exposure. The Heathcliffes knew wealthy people. If Naomi did well, guests would ask who catered.

Maybe, just maybe, she could start building something that paid more than working herself half to death across two jobs.

Naomi shoved the papers back into the envelope and stood. She carried everything into her bedroom and tucked the package away. She was going to keep working until the day she died, that one was sure.

*****

Callum walked through the Sterling mansion with the gift bag clenched in one hand and enough irritation on his face. He was in a terrible mood, and Dorian Heathcliffe was rapidly becoming the main reason for it. He didn’t even understand what the man saw in Naomi.

She looked exhausted half the time, dressed without any real sense of fashion, worked herself into the ground and had horrible manners.

And yet somehow, Dorian Heathcliffe had decided to behave as though Naomi were some priceless possession that needed guarding.

It was insulting. What irritated Callum even more was that, for the moment, Heathcliffe & Associates held too much power for him to respond the way he wanted.

His family needed the firm. That did not mean Dorian had the right to treat him like a speck of dust beneath his shoes.

Dorian had returned the bracelet himself. The message behind it had been painfully clear.

Stay away from my wife.

He crossed the long marble hallway and pushed open the doors leading into his father’s receiving room.

Victor Sterling was seated behind a large desk, reading through a set of documents. Callum walked straight across the room and threw the gift bag onto the desk in front of him.

”This is what I get!” he snapped. ”This is what I get for listening to you and that camel-backed fool Richard! Insults?”

Victor slowly looked up. He had long since learned that reacting immediately to Callum’s temper only made it worse. His gaze dropped to the bag. ”What happened?”

Callum spread his arms. ”What do you think happened?”

Victor reached for the bag, opened it and pulled out the box. He already knew what was inside before lifting the lid.

The gold bracelet sat in there. Victor looked at his son.

”She returned the bracelet.”

”Oh no.” Callum laughed without humor. ”If it had been her, I would have had her strung and flogged. Dorian Heathcliffe returned it.” He paced away from the desk, then turned back. ”He thinks he can humiliate me because his firm handles our business. That is exactly what this is.”

”You’re giving him too much importance.”

”I am giving him exactly the amount of importance he is forcing me to give him.”

Victor closed the jewelry box. ”You just have to keep trying. Ignore Dorian. He’s being territorial.”

Callum gave a short, disbelieving laugh. ”For that insect? Dad, I have dated supermodels, beauty queens, princesses. And I have to accept this?”

”If I had any other choice, I would have taken it.”

”You want me sending flowers, calling her, buying her things, pretending I’m fascinated by some overworked hag like I’m some desperate schoolboy. Why can you not dispose of the fool?” he demanded. ”He is becoming irritating. No one in their right mind would want to marry the skank.”

”Richard is no fool,” Victor said.

Callum rolled his eyes. ”Please.”

”If it were that easy for me to get rid of him, I would have done it already. A lot of eyes are already on us. We need to stay beyond blemish and under the radar. The last thing we need is someone deciding to examine matters more closely.”

”You mean a lot of eyes are on you!”

”I am us,” Victor snapped. ”Without me, this life you are so accustomed to—the one that has you thinking half the world is beneath you—would not be possible. Do as you are fucking told and get the girl to marry you. Get her to sign the blasted documents so Richard can get his foot off my neck!”

Every conversation somehow came back to Richard Whitmore, a man Callum personally found unimpressive enough to forget five minutes after leaving a room.

Yet his father clearly did not have the luxury of forgetting him.

Callum glanced at the gift bag sitting on the desk, and the humiliation of having it returned came rushing back. ”I will not accept this insult. Dorian wants to do battle for the girl, he’s got a battle.” He pointed toward the bag. ”The stupid bracelet cost me twelve thousand dollars.” He had spent his entire life believing that money solved most inconveniences because Victor had made sure it did. Twelve thousand dollars wasn’t enough to inconvenience either of them, yet his son was standing there behaving as though Dorian Heathcliffe had personally robbed him.

”I promise you, once the girl signs over her funds to Richard, we can get rid of the girl.”

Callum’s anger eased enough for him to listen. Victor continued, his voice calmer now.

”You only have to tolerate this for a couple more months. Put more effort into it, win her over, and what you have right now will stay yours.”

That was the part Victor knew would matter. The Sterling mansion. The endless travel. The accounts Callum never checked before spending from them.

The life he had been born into and had never once imagined losing.

Callum looked toward the windows. ”Whitmore is a hungry bastard. All of this for a measly ten million dollars.”

Victor gave a small shrug. ”Some people will kill for that kind of money.”