Modern Romance December 2016 Books 1-4. Кейт Хьюит

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СКАЧАТЬ has been valued at fifty thousand pounds. It’s an extremely rare edition.’

      ‘I don’t want or need your money,’ she spat. ‘My grandfather is Giovanni Di Sione, of Di Sione Shipping—’

      ‘Impressive,’ Angelos cut across her, his voice a furious drawl. ‘Other things you didn’t feel you needed to tell me.’

      ‘You didn’t ask,’ Talia protested. ‘I mentioned my grandfather’s estate...’

      Of course she had. And looking back, Angelos realised he’d known she was from money. The clues she’d dropped about the estate, her studio, the travelling she’d done. Of course she was rich.

      ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he stated flatly. ‘I don’t care about your grandfather or his estate.’

      ‘But it’s because of my grandfather that I was looking for that book,’ Talia said quietly. She was clutching handfuls of sheet in her fists, her knuckles as blazing white against the dark silk. ‘It did belong to him, Angelos, a long time ago. It was very precious to him.’

      ‘The book belonged to my wife’s grandmother,’ Angelos told her. ‘She was a lady’s maid for a duchess on Isola d’Oro. The duchess gave it to her as a parting gift.’

      Talia frowned, shaking her head slowly. ‘I don’t understand. My grandfather is from Italy. But I know it was his. He told me about the inscription on the front page.’

      ‘“Dearest Lucia, For ever in my heart, always. B.A.”’ Angelos turned away abruptly, not wanting Talia to see the expression on his face. Not wanting to feel the pain that rose up in him. He and Xanthe had said the same thing to each other. For ever in our hearts, always. ‘My wife loved that book,’ he said tonelessly. ‘It was her prized possession. She kept it on her bedside table. It was the only thing saved from the fire, and that only because I’d had it in the safe in my office. I’d just had it valued for insurance. I was going to return it to Xanthe that night.’ Talia made a small, abject sound, and feeling cold and emotionless now, Angelos turned around. ‘And you want to what? Buy it off me?’

      ‘My grandfather asked me to find it for him,’ Talia said in a small voice. ‘I didn’t realise how important it was to you...’

      ‘How did you trace it to me?’ Angelos asked. ‘Out of interest?’

      ‘I found a website dealing in finding rare books. Someone from Mena Consultancy had put a query forth about other books by the same poet.’

      ‘Ah, yes.’ His gut soured as he remembered. ‘I tried to find a second book for my wife’s birthday, years ago.’ He shook his head. ‘And you came all the way here for that.’

      ‘Yes...’

      ‘That’s why you were in my office in the first place,’ he surmised. Realisation after realisation thudded sickly through him. ‘Not to apply for the nanny position as I’d assumed.’

      ‘No, but—’

      ‘And you didn’t see fit to tell me? You could have cleared up my misunderstanding in minutes. In seconds.’

      ‘I know, but it was difficult. I was tired and overwhelmed by travelling all that way, and then when I realised I could help Sofia...’

      ‘And snoop around for the book as well, no doubt.’

      Talia swallowed, a gulping motion. ‘Not snoop, but yes, I thought I’d be able to look...’

      ‘That’s why you asked me about poetry on the boat, isn’t it?’ Angelos said with a disgusted shake of his head. ‘I thought it an odd question, but I believed you were just trying to get to know me.’ The exposure that admission caused, the realisation that he’d wanted her to get to know him, had him turning away.

      ‘I was trying to get to know you,’ Talia whispered. ‘I wanted—’

      ‘Enough.’ Angelos slashed his hand through the air. ‘Enough. I can’t bear to hear any more of your pathetic excuses. Leave me.’ He turned around, watched as tears filled her eyes and her fingers trembled on the sheet.

      ‘Angelos, please. I know I should have said something earlier, but I was starting to care about Sofia, about you, and it seemed so difficult to admit—’

      ‘Go,’ Angelos roared, and he turned around, unable to face her. He heard her rise from the bed and scramble for her clothes, and then the soft, quick tread of her feet and the click of the door closing.

      He let out a shuddering sigh and raked his hands through his hair, grief and guilt and deep, deep regret coursing through him in an unbearable torrent. He’d trusted her. He’d told her more than he’d told anyone, even Xanthe. Xanthe hadn’t wanted to know about his deprived childhood, the hard lessons he’d learned. Yet Talia had seemed interested, sympathetic, kind. All of it an act to get what she wanted.

      A remote part of him insisted he was being unfair, judging Talia so harshly. He could understand why she’d be reluctant to speak up, and yet...

      She’d lied. And she would be leaving anyway. The night they’d shared together, and so much more than a single, simple night, had been a mistake. That much Angelos knew with leaden certainty.

      * * *

      Talia crept into her bed and lay there shivering despite the sultry night air. She’d ruined everything by not coming clean to Angelos. Why hadn’t she told him about her grandfather and the wretched book earlier? The answer was depressingly obvious. Because she’d been afraid. Afraid of Angelos’s anger, of losing what they had together. And so she’d waited, and now she’d lost so much more.

      But perhaps she’d never had it to begin with. She thought of the grief and pain she’d seen so nakedly on Angelos’s face. He’d loved his wife. Perhaps he still loved her. Perhaps she and Angelos had never had even a whisper of a chance of a future together.

      Eventually Talia drifted into a restless doze, only to wake as dawn’s pale grey light filtered through the shutters. She listened to the birdsong and the gentle shooshing of the waves on the beach and knew she had only one choice. She’d have to leave. Better to leave than be fired, which Angelos surely intended to do, and she couldn’t endure another week of being with Angelos and having him hate her. Knowing she’d wrecked any hope of a future together.

      Sofia’s new nanny would arrive in a matter of days, and Talia knew she would be leaving the girl in good hands. Perhaps Angelos could have a few days alone with his daughter, or Maria could manage. She wouldn’t be leaving anyone in the lurch if she went now, a thought that still managed to hurt her. She wasn’t needed, not really.

      With a leaden heart she showered and dressed and then packed her few possessions. The lovely silk Angelos had bought on Naxos she left, still in its paper wrappings. Perhaps he could have a dress made for Sofia.

      Downstairs she went directly to Angelos’s study and knocked on the door. His terse, ‘Enter,’ had her insides trembling but she lifted her chin, opened the door and walked in.

      ‘Yes?’ Angelos’s cold stare was unwelcoming, his lips compressed into a hard line. It seemed incredible to Talia that last night he’d held her in his arms, she’d drawn him into her body. She’d been happier than she’d ever been before.

      She СКАЧАТЬ