Bride, Bought and Paid For. Helen BianchinЧитать онлайн книгу.
as he ordered a starter and followed it with a main. A dish she’d favoured during the brief time they’d been together.
Coincidence? Or was it a deliberate choice?
Like she cared!
Yet something tightened inside her stomach that he might have remembered a time when they’d shared food, forking a tempting morsel for sampling, delighting in knowing they’d share so much more at evening’s end.
Then she had been relaxed and in tune with him, just living to please and be pleasured.
A delicious tremor slid the length of her spine at the unbidden image, painfully vivid as memory resurfaced.
‘You’ve begun a new contract at a high school in the northern suburbs.’
Romy spared him a questioning look. ‘Your PA was instructed to determine the precise location and relevant details?’
Xavier lifted an eyebrow. ‘It bothers you that I did so?’
Yes. Although she’d expected it of him. Xavier had long gained a reputation for sourcing every detail, even the most seemingly inconsequential. Very little, if anything, escaped him, and heads were known to roll should any of his subordinates fail to deliver. Life and his climb to the top had fashioned him into the man he’d become.
‘Then you’ll be aware I have a contract to fullfil.’
‘A contract isn’t set in stone,’ he reminded her, and caught the way her eyes blazed blue fire.
‘I teach, it’s what I do,’ Romy vouchsafed.
He leaned back in his chair and regarded her steadily. ‘There’s no need for you to continue working.’
‘What else would you have me do? Become a social butterfly who spends her days having beauty treatments and shopping?’ She sent him a quelling look. ‘Forget it.’
‘You prefer attempting to impart enthusiasm for knowledge into young minds, controlling their behaviour, offering extra-curricular tutoring and immersing yourself in setting and marking numerous assignment papers?’
‘Yes.’ Among the students who slipped through the scholastic system, there were those who could excel, and she strived to give both at opposite ends of the scale her equal attention.
Statistics proved some would never make it, a fact which only made her try harder, to go beyond and above the call of duty.
‘There are those who baulk at the theory of learning, yet excel in practice.’
‘Such as yourself?’
‘The cut and thrust in the real business world, the challenge to succeed against the odds provides an adrenalin rush coveted by many.’
‘High risk, high maintenance.’
‘You neglect to mention the rewards,’ Xavier drawled, and she arched an eyebrow.
‘The mansions, houses abroad, expensive cars?’
A faint smile teased the edges of his mouth. ‘You forgot to include the women.’
She matched the faint mockery in his voice with droll cynicism. ‘Of course…women.’
‘There were not so many,’ Xavier relayed with musing indulgence. ‘And I ended each relationship before I began another.’
‘For which you think you deserve brownie points?’
His smile verged on the indolent. ‘You’d paint me as a careless rake?’
She managed a imperceptible shrug. ‘If the cap fits.’
A waiter delivered coffee, and Xavier settled the bill.
They emerged onto the boardwalk to crisp cool air and an indigo sky sprinkled with a light dusting of stars.
Romy retrieved her cellphone and keyed in a series of digits, gave her location and ordered a taxi. Only to give a startled exclamation as the cellphone was taken from her hand and the call cancelled.
Anger rose to the fore as she shot Xavier a venomous glare. ‘How dare you?’ She reached for the phone. ‘Give it back.’
‘A taxi isn’t an option.’
She closed her eyes, then opened them again. The temptation to lash out at him was almost impossible to resist. ‘I’m going to visit my father…alone,’ Romy asserted, sorely tried.
‘No.’
Anger pumped from her in a fine red mist. ‘What is it with you?’
He suppressed the urge to take possession of her sassy mouth and tame all that fiery rage into whimpering submission. And he would…soon.
‘Do you really want to do this here?’
Realization of where they were, in a public place, people out enjoying the evening air and, oh, God, the interested looks they were garnering…had a sobering effect.
Her scorching glare had little effect, and she stepped to one side and strode—as well as one could stride in stiletto heels—towards the main road. Only to inwardly fume as he matched her pace with an easy grace.
The silence between them became a potent, volatile entity, one she refused to break as they reached the car.
For a brief moment Romy considered a final act of defiance, only to change her mind at the tempered warning evident in his dark eyes.
‘Do you need the address?’ Cool, stilted words, which had no effect whatsoever as Xavier released the car’s locking mechanism.
‘No.’
So he knew Andre’s fall from grace had led to a small, barely adequate flat in a western suburb, a far cry from the lovely home her parents had occupied during Romy’s youth.
She chose silence as Xavier traversed the inner city and took a route leading to one of numerous streets where redbrick houses were jammed close together on minuscule blocks of land.
The shabby home where Andre resided had long been converted into one-bedroom self-contained flats, a place her father would soon leave, if she had anything to do with it!
Her father’s flat was reached from a narrow central hallway, and Andre’s smile faltered as he opened the door, then disappeared as he saw the man standing at Romy’s side.
‘Xavier.’ The greeting was cautious, polite, and Romy’s stomach tightened into a painful knot as she gave her father an affectionate hug during the heavy silence which followed.
‘Andre,’ Xavier acknowledged, as her father stood to one side to allow them entry into an open-plan room comprising a lounge area and adjoining dining room.
Two single club chairs bracketed a small sofa, and Andre indicated them.
‘Please, take a seat. Can I offer you some tea or coffee?’
Her heart tore a little at her father’s attempt at normality in what had to be an unforeseen situation, one that would rapidly digress to extraordinary any time soon.
‘I’ll make it.’
In the kitchen she filled the electric kettle and set out cups and saucers, taking longer than necessary in order to delay rejoining both men.
She hadn’t expected her father to easily accept her decision, and her fingers shook a little as she heard Andre’s voice rise a little.
Time to go face the fallout, she decided as she placed everything on a tray and crossed the room, her head high, a smile firmly in place.
Andre viewed her in contemplative silence as she offered him coffee.
‘You always consider your actions,’ he declared, perplexed. ‘Yet you’re rushing headlong into a marriage in circumstances that are far too coincidental.’ He was silent for several