A Husband For Christmas. Emma Richmond

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      CHAPTER TWO

      ‘YOU left!’ Gellis shouted. ‘Hurt me. Sent a terse little note to say you wouldn’t be back!’

      Sébastien frowned. ‘No explanation? No reason?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘And so you don’t know why?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘But you would like to, wouldn’t you? That’s human nature—to want to know why. If you come with me, you might find out.’

      Yes, she might find out. And if it was something she didn’t want to hear? At least she would know. Not be forever speculating. There was the future to think of. A need to put it all behind her.

      Eyes too big in her white face, she slowly raised her lashes, forced herself to look at him. Really look at him. A hard face, but so very attractive. But no longer her husband’s face. Go with him? See their friends again? Be in his company? She didn’t know if she was tough enough.

      ‘You’re wavering,’ he said quietly.

      ‘Am I?’ she asked stonily. ‘All right,’ she decided.

      ‘I’ll come with you. But I can’t go for long—no more than a few days.’ No she couldn’t go for long.

      ‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord?’ he queried soberly.

      ‘What? No. I don’t want vengeance. Just to know the truth.’

      ‘As do I. Thank you,’ he added quietly. Straightening, he gave her an odd smile—quirky, a little bit wry. ‘Which way?’

      Keeping her heart hard, her mind still, she pointed to their right.

      He nodded. Hooking up his duffel bag and sailing jacket, he waited for her to lead the way.

      ‘Which is the nearest airport?’

      ‘Airport?’ she queried absently.

      ‘Yes, Gellis, airport.’

      She shook her head. ‘We aren’t flying.’

      ‘Aren’t we?’ he mocked softly.

      ‘No. We’ll go by car.’

      ‘That will take two days.’

      ‘I don’t care. I’m not flying.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because I don’t like to!’ she gritted.

      ‘Fair enough.’

      Surprised by his easy acceptance, she gave a bitter smile. This was madness.

      He halted, swung her to face him, stared down into her expressionless face, then registered the pain in her lovely eyes. Big and brown and lost. Like a doe. With a muffled sigh, he turned to walk on. ‘Where are we going?’

      ‘To my car.’

      He nodded. ‘You have a current passport?’

      ‘Yes.’

      He smiled. ‘Didn’t even think of lying, Gellis?’

      ‘Would it have done me any good?’

      He shook his head. ‘If I had to take your house apart to find your birth certificate, I would have done so.’

      ‘And then dragged me up to town to get a new one.’

      ‘Yes. However long it took.’

      She believed him. Utterly.

      ‘We can get a ferry from here?’

      ‘We’ll go on Le Shuttle.’

      He gave another odd smile. ‘Don’t like sailing either?’

      ‘No,’ she replied stonily.

      ‘How did you manage before it was built?’

      ‘With difficulty. My car’s over there.’

      Glancing at the gleaming red sports car, he gave a silent whistle, looked at her with new interest. He’d assumed she’d have a sedate hatchback.

      ‘You bought it for me,’ she stated shortly as she opened the boot for him to put his belongings inside. After the birth of their son.

      ‘Generous of me.’

      ‘Yes.’ Climbing behind the wheel, she watched without amusement as he folded his considerable length in beside her. His head brushed the roof.

      ‘There’s a lever on your right to lower the seat.’ She had a moment’s compunction that on the long drive to the south of France he was going to be extremely uncomfortable, then dismissed it. She hadn’t asked for this. But it was something she had to do, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it?

      There was sexual awareness as there had been that first time they’d met, but no feeling of excitement or warmth. Just despair. And pain. And perhaps fear. She was probably still in shock. And when she came out of it? The panic returning, she slowed, whispered, ‘I can’t do this.’

      ‘Yes, you can,’ he argued with flat insistence. ‘It’s my life, Gellis.’

      ‘I know.’ But it was hers too. And, seemingly without any choice in the matter, she drove the short distance to her parents’ house.

      She tried to imagine it from his point of view. Tried to imagine having no memory. And couldn’t. And if Nathalie hadn’t come to see her after she’d received that note... But she had come, and so the matter was academic. He’d cheated. Deliberately lied. And if he had been the same man she’d loved... But he wasn’t. He was a grim-faced stranger. Hard and tough. Dangerous. But they both needed to find out the truth, didn’t they?

      She didn’t park directly outside the house but a few doors along, and, glancing at him worriedly, said quietly, ‘I’ll be as quick as I can. You’ll stay here?’

      He nodded.

      ‘Give me your word.’

      He looked at her, his eyes hard and direct. СКАЧАТЬ