Sharon Kendrick Collection. Sharon Kendrick

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      Romy was too shocked to be offended; it was as though he was talking about someone else. ‘Ruthless?’ she queried incredulously. ‘Me?’

      He gave a cynical laugh. ‘God,’ he breathed admiringly. ‘You do it so well, don’t you? The injured tone which sounds so genuinely outraged. And with just the right amount of pouting, wide-eyed innocence, too. As if you were anything other than ruthless, Romy!’

      ‘Then how am I ruthless?’ she demanded. ‘You can’t possibly make claims like that without backing them up. So go on—tell me, Dominic! I may have my faults—who hasn’t?—but I’ve never considered myself ruthless.’

      He smiled, but it was the coldest smile that Romy had ever seen. A predator heartlessly regarding its prey might have eyes like that, she thought, with a shiver.

      ‘No?’ His laugh was bitter. ‘It isn’t ruthless, then, to go through with a marriage to a man you don’t love? Like you did—to Mark?’

      ‘But I did love Mark,’ she defended herself staunchly, and bit down on her lip. ‘I did!’

      ‘You couldn’t have loved him,’ he gritted back, not seeming to care about her obvious distress. ‘Because if you had, then you could never have let me touch you the way I did!’

      She ran a distracted hand through her short blonde hair, as if the movement could come to her rescue and obliterate the past. And make her forget the unbearable pleasure of Dominic’s hands moving over her body. His lips on her skin. His breath warm and soft against her mouth. ‘Oh, what’s the point of discussing it?’

      ‘There’s every point!’ he snapped back. ‘The main one being that although every logical pore in my body recoils from you and everything you stand for there is still a stubborn part of me which drowns in the beauty of those dark, velvety eyes...’

      He stared deep into her eyes as he said it, and a shiver of awareness whispered its way down Romy’s spine. Oh, why him? she thought despairingly. Why did it have to be him?

      ‘Dominic...don’t...’ she breathed weakly. Don’t look at me that way, she said silently.

      ‘Don’t what?’ he demanded roughly. ‘Don’t deny that I want you as badly as you still want me?’

      ‘No!’ She was about to bury her face in her hands when the waiter appeared, a look of concern on his face as he plonked the next course down on the table in front of them.

      ‘Everything is to your satisfaction, signorina?’ he asked anxiously.

      Of all the words he could have used! Romy nodded and even managed a watery smile. ‘I’m fine,’ she lied.

      ‘Just tell me,’ Dominic whispered harshly, once the waiter had gone, ‘why you went through with the wedding.’

      She shook her head, fighting down the sudden and inexplicable urge to confide in him. ‘I—can’t.’

      ‘Didn’t it worry you that I might go to Mark and tell him what had happened?’

      Her eyes were clear and bright. ‘Why didn’t you?’

      A look of disgust distorted the hard, handsome features. ‘Because I felt too appalled. Too ashamed of my own behaviour to be able to confess it to Mark. He had offered me one of the greatest gifts of friendship in asking me to be his best man. What would he have done had he known that if our rescuers had not shown up when they did I would have made love to you properly? And I would. I would have done it to you right there and then in the lift, Romy.’

      Romy’s cheeks flamed. She doubted whether he had ever spoken quite so crudely to another woman. And the trouble was that she didn’t even dare to deny his words, not even to herself. Because she suspected that they were true. Would they have done? Made love in the lift? With the possibility that they could have been discovered at any moment?

      ‘Then, when no word came that the wedding was to be cancelled, I naturally assumed that you had not had the courage to tell Mark either,’ he continued inexorably. ‘So I thought you wouldn’t show up at the church.’ He shook his head from side to side, as if the memory still had the power to astound him, even after all this time.

      ‘I couldn’t believe it when I saw you tripping down the aisle towards us,’ he ground out bitterly. ‘With that virginal white veil covering your cheating face! It took every effort of will I possessed not to shout the truth to the rafters when the vicar asked if anyone knew of any just impediment why you should not wed—’

      ‘Why didn’t you?’ she whispered.

      He shook his head again and met her eyes with an accusing silver stare. ‘God only knows. Because of Mark, I guess. Because I could not bear to inflict such hurt on him.’

      Romy felt strangely calm. She was still alive, after all. Still breathing. He had berated her, clearly hated her, and she had let him get it all out of his system. Like removing poison from a festering sore. It was when things were left unsaid that they caused most damage.

      And surely if he continued to show how much he despised her then that would kill all her residual feelings for him stone-dead? For surely she couldn’t still hanker after a man who thought she was the lowest of the low?

      Automatically, even though she had not eaten, she dabbed at the corners of her mouth with the heavy damask napkin and gave him her most professional smile.

      ‘It’s getting rather late, Dominic...’ Good, Romy, she thought. Good! She had used just the right mixture of apology and regret—as she would to any client if the evening was drawing to an end. ‘And I think it’s time I was going.’

      She saw him frown. He had probably been expecting a hysterical little outburst, she decided with a distinct feeling of triumph.

      She composed her face into a placid mask. ‘It might be best if you could have a list of your guests drawn up and sent over—with any of their known likes and dislikes. Anything I’m not entirely sure about.’

      She stood up and prepared to make a dramatic exit. ‘I’ll pay the bill on my way out.’

      ‘Don’t bother. I settled it in advance when I arrived.’

      ‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ she objected.

      ‘But why wouldn’t I? After all, it was purely business.’ His eyes glittered. ‘Wasn’t it?’

      ‘Well, it certainly wasn’t pleasure!’ she snapped back.

      He gave a benign smile. ‘So you see, Romy, there was really no need to scrimp and only eat pasta. You could have ordered the most expensive thing on the menu and I wouldn’t have batted an eyelid!’

      Fury bubbled up inside her. So he was accusing her of being mean now, was he? She itched to empty the remains of the Bardolino bottle over his head, or to up-end the bread basket all over those thick ebony waves.

      ‘I can assure you that my choice was not dictated by economy!’ she told him. ‘As it happens, I eat so much rich food in the course of my work that I always opt for something plain when I get the opportunity.’

      ‘Just a simple girl at heart?’ СКАЧАТЬ