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Mistresses: Bound with Gold / Bought with Emeralds. Sandra MartonЧитать онлайн книгу.

Mistresses: Bound with Gold / Bought with Emeralds - Sandra Marton


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‘I’m only getting my reports in dribs and drabs. And it’s mostly raw facts, not feelings. Care to fill in the blanks?’

      He waited, and when she said nothing he continued with surgical precision.

      ‘With such a fanatically religious mother and a passive alcoholic as a father you were bound to grow up sexually repressed and hungry for praise and affection—you must have been a sitting duck for a manipulative, smooth-talking bastard like Frances. He found out about your connection with Sir Frank and deliberately set out to recreate himself in the image of your ideal husband. But he never intended to be faithful to the image, did he?’

      Regan sucked in a sharp breath. Laid out in his stark words the truth seemed even more ugly. ‘You have no right—’

      ‘I’ve been there myself,’ he said quietly. ‘I know how it feels to realise that your loyalty has been secured by a lie. You blame yourself for not seeing it from the beginning.’

      ‘I don’t want to talk about him.’

      ‘Fine. Then let’s talk about us.’

      She set her untasted drink sharply down on the glass table which held the silver drinks tray. ‘There is no us!

      He set his glass beside hers and shadowed her back to the rail. ‘Tell me, why did you come to the apartment that night?’

      ‘Why don’t you ask your informant?’ she said bitterly.

      ‘What happened that night was not part of his brief,’ he said with dangerous softness. ‘But that could change with one phone call…’

      She blanched. ‘My flatmate’s cousin is Cleo—she was the one who was supposed to meet you that night, but she was sick. I took her place, but I didn’t tell anyone. No one knew—not even Derek.’

      ‘That explains how, but not why,’ he said, his eyes narrowed intently on her face. ‘It’s so out of character with everything else I’ve found out about you.’

      ‘Maybe I was wild with grief,’ she said sardonically.

      But he was implacable. ‘A kind of grief, perhaps. Was it anything to do with Cindy Carson visiting your flat? You never knew your husband had had a mistress, did you? Not until she confronted you.’

      Regan thought that she would have preferred being interrogated about her attempt to fiddle the books to this painful emotional plunder!

      ‘How did you feel when you found out that he had been unfaithful to you for years?’ he goaded. ‘How did you feel when you discovered that he had chosen to have a child with her, rather than you?’

      The old, volcanic rage erupted through the thin crust of her self-control. ‘How do you think I felt?’ she burst out.

      His eyes flamed with deep satisfaction as he taunted, ‘Heartbroken?’

      She tossed her head defiantly, the wind whipping the hair around her stinging cheeks. ‘No—heart-whole! Cured of any lingering doubt that I was a fool for having loved him at all! Sick. Angry. Furious!

      ‘You want to know what I was looking for that night I slept with you—I’ll tell you: Revenge!’ She gave a wild, triumphant laugh at his shaken expression. ‘I did it purely for revenge, OK? To show Michael that he wasn’t going to control me from the grave, to prove that I was as much a sexual being as his flashy mistress. He had an affair so I went out and had one, too!’

      ‘You slept with me to get revenge on a dead man?’

      He sounded incredulous. She hoped that knocked his male ego for a six.

      ‘Not you. A man. Any man would have done. Being promiscuous means you’re not choosy about your sex partners.’

      ‘But you didn’t get any man,’ he said roughly. ‘Lucky for you, you reckless little fool, you got me…

      She put her hands on her hips, her torso tilted aggressively forward as she snarled, ‘Lucky? I’d call it ironic that I chose to have my sexual fling with a man who was as dishonourable as my late, unlamented husband!’

      The insult visibly struck him to the core. ‘What in the hell do you mean by that?’ he snarled back, closing the gap between them until the heat generated by their two bodies met and mingled.

      She had him on the back foot; now it was her turn to shove, and shove until he tripped over his own lies. ‘You seduced your brother’s fiancée! Don’t bother to deny it. Ryan told me that Carolyn and Chris were an item long before you came on the scene.’

      He cursed rawly. ‘Ryan might be a genius but that doesn’t make him infallible.’

      ‘You mean it isn’t true? That Carolyn wasn’t engaged to Chris when you slept with her and got her pregnant—?’

      ‘Ryan couldn’t have told you that!’ he interrupted savagely.

      ‘No, but it’s so obvious when you look at the timing. This wedding should have been Chris and Carolyn’s, shouldn’t it?’ She had noticed that some of the early quotes Hazel had stuffed in her desk dated back further than a couple of months, but had dismissed them as examples of her hopeful anticipation. ‘You must have been the reason they had their row and broke the engagement.’

      ‘Must I? You don’t think that, considering what you know of my character, you might have drawn another, less obvious conclusion—one more favourable to my honour?’

      She felt the pain of his deep offence like a quiet shudder in her soul. He was truly outraged that she was calling his personal integrity into question. ‘What do you mean? What other conclusion is there?’

      The muscle flickered in his clenched jaw. ‘Nothing. None. It doesn’t matter.’

      She didn’t believe him. It had mattered enough to him to cause his tight-lipped control to falter. And if it mattered to him, of course it mattered to her, more than anything…

      Joshua wasn’t like Michael. Michael would never have rushed into a burning building to save other people’s lives at a serious risk to his own. Michael had never faced up to his responsibilities—even in death he had evaded making any provision for his son’s future. But Joshua behaved honourably even when it was dangerous to do so, even when it was difficult, or interfered with his own pleasures.

      As the boat creamed over the glittering open sea, a clear shaft of light seemed to shine down from the blue vault of heaven and illuminate the answer in her heart.

      But how to break down that wall of steely self-control and make him admit it?

      ‘So…if you weren’t sleeping with Carolyn before the big fight, then it must have happened after. After her horrible row with Chris she came running to his big brother for comfort, and instead you took ruthless advantage of her vulnerability—is that the scenario you expect me to believe?’

      He picked up his glass again and took a long swallow. ‘I don’t expect anything of you.’

      Now he was lying!

      ‘Is it your baby—or Chris’s? Or are the dates that you both slept with her so entwined that neither of you know which one of you is the father?’

      His head jerked back at her slicing scorn. ‘It’s a Wade. That’s all that’s important.’

      ‘And you don’t mind marrying your brother’s discards?’

      He finished the drink, his knuckles white around the glass. ‘Leave it, Regan.’

      She was beginning to get an even stronger inkling of the way his mind worked. ‘What’s the matter? Don’t you like it when the tables are turned and I’m the one asking all the intrusive questions?’ she said recklessly. ‘Maybe you three had a slightly incestuous ménage à trois going…does it turn you on to share a


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