His Revenge Seduction: The Mélendez Forgotten Marriage / The Konstantos Marriage Demand / For Revenge or Redemption?. Kate WalkerЧитать онлайн книгу.
href="#ulink_7e397058-2db5-556c-907c-3193b7bfc2fc">Chapter Five
EMELIA placed her own napkin over her lap, all the time avoiding those black-as-pitch eyes. The hairs on the back of her neck were tingling and her stomach was rolling like a ball going down a very steep hill. Had she felt like this during their marriage? Had her skin felt prickly and sensitive just with his gaze on her, let alone his touch? She desperately wanted to remember everything about him, everything about them—their relationship, the love they supposedly had shared.
Or had they?
The thought slipped into her mind, unfurling like a curl of smoke beneath a closed door. Did he love her the way she had evidently loved him? It was so difficult to know what he felt; he kept himself to himself most of the time. She understood his reluctance to reveal his feelings, given her loss of memory. He might resent looking a fool if she never regained her memory of him. In any case, the doctors had warned him not to pressure her. Was that why he was acting like the perfect stranger, polite but aloof, with just occasional glimpses of his personality? There was so much she didn’t know about him, things she would need to know in order to navigate her way through the complex labyrinth her mind had become. With an effort she raised her eyes back to his. ‘I feel such a fool for not asking you this earlier, but what is it you do for a living?’
‘I buy and sell businesses,’ he said. ‘I own and head an international company. We do work all over the world. That was why I have been in Moscow a lot lately. I have a big deal I am working on. It requires a lot of intense negotiation.’
Emelia sat quietly absorbing that information, hoping it would trigger something in her brain. She looked at his hands as they poured wine into both of their glasses. She could imagine him being a formidable opponent in business, his quick mind and sharp intelligence setting him apart from his rivals. ‘What sort of businesses do you buy?’ she asked.
‘Ailing ones,’ he said. ‘I buy them and reinvent them and sell them for a profit.’ He hitched one shoulder indifferently. ‘It’s a living.’
Emelia picked up her crystal wine glass. ‘Apparently quite a good one.’ She took a tentative sip and put the glass back down. ‘Was your father in the same field of work?’
‘No, he was in retail,’ he said. ‘Electrical, mostly. He had several outlets in Spain. He expected me to go into the business with him but I never wanted that for myself. Selling refrigerators and televisions and toasters never appealed to me. I wanted more of a challenge.’
‘Is that what caused the rift between you?’
‘That and other things,’ he said, frowning slightly as he returned his glass to the table.
Aldana came in with their starters and, while she was serving them, Emelia thought about Javier’s background. There was no shortage of wealth; the private jet, the villa and grounds and the staff to maintain it must cost a fortune. Had he inherited it from his father or accumulated it himself? He must be very good at what he did. No one could buy a company without a huge amount of money behind them. And if he was buying and selling more than one and all over the world, he must be far more successful than she had thought. She decided to check out his profile on the Internet later, to see a little more into the man she was married to.
‘Gracias, Aldana,’ Javier said as the housekeeper left with a sour look in Emelia’s direction, which she was sure he didn’t see. Emelia wondered if she should comment on it but then decided against it. Maybe Javier would think she was making trouble. Aldana seemed very much a part of the woodwork of the villa. But it worried Emelia that the housekeeper had not warmed to her over the last two years. She was not used to people disliking her on sight. It made her feel as if she didn’t know herself any more. Who was she now? Why had the housekeeper taken such an active dislike to her?
A moment or two of silence passed.
‘Is the wine not to your liking?’ Javier asked. ‘It used to be one of your favourites.’
Emelia wrinkled her nose. ‘Sorry, I guess my palate has changed or something. I’ll stick to water. I need the fluids, in any case.’
‘Would you like me to call a doctor?’ he asked. ‘You might have picked up a bug in the hospital.’
‘No, I’m fine.’ She twisted her mouth wryly. ‘To tell you the truth, I’m a little sick of doctors. I just want to get well again.’
He gave her a tight smile. ‘Of course.’
Emelia picked at her main course after Aldana had brought it in, but with little appetite. The tight band of tension around her forehead she had been trying so hard to ignore was making her feel ill again. All she could think of was retreating to the sanctuary of bed.
‘You’re really not feeling well, are you?’ Javier asked once the housekeeper had cleared the plates.
Emelia gave him an apologetic grimace. ‘I’m sorry. My headache’s been getting worse all evening.’
He rose from the table and gently helped her out of her chair. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘I’ll take you upstairs and help you get settled. Are you sure about the doctor? What if I just make a call to ask his opinion?’
‘No, please don’t bother. Dr Pratchett told me headaches are common sometimes up to weeks after a head injury. I just need a painkiller and sleep.’
Javier left the bedroom while Emelia changed into nightwear and after a few minutes he came back in with a glass of water and a couple of painkillers. Once she had taken them, he took the glass and set it down on the bedside table. ‘I have to fly back to Moscow tomorrow,’ he said, sitting on the edge of the bed next to her. ‘I just got a phone call while I was downstairs. I am sorry about the short notice but, with the accident and everything, I had to cut short my business there.’
‘I’m sorry to have been such a bother—’
He placed a hand over hers, silencing her. ‘I have given Aldana and the others instructions to keep a watch over you. I will only be away two days, three at the most.’
‘I’m perfectly able to look after myself.’She pulled her hand out from under his and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘I don’t need to be watched over like a small child.’
‘Emelia, there are journalists lurking about looking for a story,’ he said. ‘If you set foot outside the villa grounds you will be under siege. You are not well enough to fend off their intrusive questions. You will end up even more confused and disoriented.’
Her grey-blue eyes narrowed slightly. ‘Are these precautions for me or for you?’
He squared his shoulders. ‘What exactly are you implying?’
She bit down on her bottom lip so hard it went white. ‘I don’t know what’s going on,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what’s what any more. You say we were happily married, but you don’t seem to like me, let alone love me.’
Javier placed his hand on the curve of her cheek, turning her head to face him. ‘This is not the time to be talking about my feelings,’ he said. ‘This is the time for you to concentrate on getting well again. That’s why I want you to stay within the confines of the villa grounds.’
‘What did I used to do to occupy myself when you went away on business?’ she asked.
Javier would have dearly liked to ask her the same thing. How long had her affair gone on, for instance? How many times had she met her lover while he was abroad on business? How many of her ‘shopping trips’ to London been a cover for other activities? ‘You used the gym in the building near the pool and you occasionally practised the piano.’
She frowned as she looked down at her manicured hands with their elegant French-polished nails. When had she stopped biting her nails? And how on earth did she play the piano with them so long? She looked up at him after a moment. ‘So I wasn’t teaching?’
‘No. You said you were no longer interested