It Started With A Proposition: Blackmailed into the Italian's Bed / Contract with Consequences / The Passion Price. Miranda Lee

if she rang Chad and got that dreadful job over and done with she might feel better.

      It was about lunchtime in New York—not the middle of the night or anything.

      Feeling simply appalling, Jordan steeled herself for one of the worst phone calls of her life.

      When Chad didn’t answer straight away, her first emotion was relief. When a woman answered, any relief was swiftly replaced by irritation.

      ‘Can I help you?’ the woman said, in a sing-song fashion.

      ‘Could I speak to Chad, please?’ Jordan said through gritted teeth.

      ‘Chad, darling. It’s for you.’

      Chad darling finally came on the line.

      ‘Hi there,’ he said.

      ‘Chad. It’s Jordan.’

      ‘Jordan…’

      ‘Yes, your fiancée,’ she bit out. ‘Remember me?’

      ‘Ahh.’

      ‘What does that mean?’

      ‘I was going to call you,’ he said, in the most guilt-laden voice Jordan had ever heard. And she’d heard quite a few during her lawyering years.

      ‘Who was that woman?’ she snapped.

      ‘That was Caroline.’

      ‘Am I supposed to know who Caroline is?’

      ‘I was engaged to her once. Before I came to Australia. We…we had this fight, you see, and I thought…Well, I thought she didn’t love me any more…’

      ‘But she does?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘And you still love her?’

      ‘Yes, I do. I’m sorry, Jordan.’

      Jordan didn’t know what to say.

      ‘Look,’ Chad went on, ‘even before Caroline and I got together again I’d begun to suspect that my proposing to you was a mistake. I mean, men like me…basically, we want a woman who makes being a wife and mother their career. You’re a great girl, Jordan. And I really enjoyed our time together. But the truth is you’re not what I want in a wife.’

      Not what he wanted in a wife.

      ‘You want an American wife?’ she said, her voice as deflated as her spirit.

      ‘Yes. That’s the bottom line. I want an American wife.’

      Like Gino wanted an Italian wife.

      ‘I’m sorry, Jordan,’ he added.

      Jordan didn’t want his apologies. She wanted nothing further to do with him. Ever, ever again.

      ‘About the ring…’ he continued.

      ‘What about it?’

      ‘I…er…would you mind sending it to me via international courier as soon as possible? Caroline and I are having an engagement party next weekend.’

      Jordan blinked, then shook her head. Why was it that the actions of men would never truly cease to amaze her? ‘Sure thing. No trouble. I’ll do it first thing tomorrow morning.’

      ‘You’re upset with me.’

      Gee, how intuitive of you!

      ‘Actually, I’m not, Chad. I’m relieved.’

      ‘Relieved?’

      ‘Yeah. When and if I marry, it will be to a man who really loves me. Bye, Chad.’

      She hung up before he could say another single word. Then she sank down onto a nearby chair and wept inconsolably. Not for Chad. But for the fact that no man had ever really loved her or wanted her to be his wife.