Required To Wear The Tycoon's Ring. Maggie CoxЧитать онлайн книгу.
shattering events she’d endured filled her with something close to dread, she couldn’t forget that Seth had shared his own sad story.
Perhaps she should take courage from that? He of all people must understand her reticence about revisiting hurtful events. Just listening to his heartfelt assertion that he would never love anyone as he’d loved the woman he’d lost had been unbearably poignant.
Once upon a time, Imogen had loved Greg with what she’d believed to be similar passionate devotion. However, the idyllic happy-ever-after that she’d hoped for hadn’t transpired. Instead, the relationship had come to the most abrupt and devastating end. It would be a very long time—if ever—before she trusted another man again...certainly enough to consider sharing her life with him.
‘I made some toast for us to share.’
On her return, she saw her handsome visitor’s glance was decidedly sheepish. He had filled the silver-plated toast rack with crisped slices of wholemeal bread and brought in the butter dish she’d left on the worktop, along with a pot of marmalade. He hadn’t just poured coffee for himself but had made Imogen some tea.
The thoughtful gesture surprised her, and she dropped down into the armchair, taking her beverage with her. ‘Thanks. I never would have guessed that you were so domesticated.’
Helping himself to toast and slathering it with a generous portion of marmalade, Seth grinned. The gesture was so distracting it was like the sun bursting through the clouds on a rainy day. She was glad she was sitting down.
‘I like to disprove people’s assumptions about me,’ he drawled. ‘It keeps them on their toes.’
Silently sipping her tea, she owned to feeling an odd pleasure at the sight of the businessman enjoying his breakfast. The realisation made her pause. Talking of assumptions—was she wrong to think that he was a businessman? Although he dressed like a well-heeled broker in the city of London, the fact that she didn’t know what he did made her remember how little she knew about him.
Yet she’d trusted him enough to let him sleep undisturbed on her couch the whole night!
Before she shied away from quizzing him, she asked, ‘Do you mind if I ask what you do for a living?’
The wariness that stole across his sublimely carved features indicated his reluctance to answer. It came back to her that when he’d first met her he’d asked if she was a reporter.
‘No. I don’t mind. I run several motor car dealerships in America.’
‘What kind of motor cars?’
‘High-end ones... Maserati, Ferrari and Lamborghini to name a few.’
Imogen’s stomach lurched helplessly. If she’d needed a reminder that his affluent lifestyle must be about a trillion miles away from hers, then she’d just got one...
‘Is there a very big demand for such cars?’
‘Hell, yes!’ Pausing to gulp down some coffee, Seth wiped the back of his hand across his lips. ‘I wouldn’t be where I am today if there wasn’t.’
He was gazing back at her, and she saw that the blue eyes that were the colour of the most exquisite sapphires glinted disturbingly. But whether it was because her question had irritated him or because he couldn’t believe that she was naive enough to ask it, Imogen couldn’t tell.
‘You mean that you’ve done well selling them...?’
His ensuing laugh was harsh. ‘You think that all I do is to sell cars?’
Her skin crawling with unease, she stared back at him. ‘Clearly you’re more than just a salesman, but as I don’t know very much about the world of fancy cars perhaps you’d enlighten me? I mean...I know you said you ran several dealerships, but—’
‘I should have explained. I employ managers to run the dealerships for me. I don’t work for the company that sells these cars. I own it.’
Talk about having the wind taken out of her sails. With her mouth uncomfortably dry, she took a hasty mouthful of tea. ‘Then, it must have been quite a change for you to sleep on my landlord’s old couch. I know it’s not the most comfortable piece of furniture.’
Frowning, Seth’s eyes were doubly piercing as he studied her. ‘I was very grateful that you invited me in and allowed me to sleep on it. Did you think I was looking down my nose at you?’
Reaching forward, Imogen stood her cup and saucer on the coffee table. Then she got nervously to her feet. ‘I hope you wouldn’t be as unkind as that. Look...I’m not trying to rush you, but when you’ve finished your coffee it’s probably best that you go. It’s Saturday—my day for catching up with the housework.’
‘Haven’t you forgotten something?’
Straight away Imogen knew what he meant. Twisting her hands together, she wished she had forgotten their agreement. But she immediately saw that Seth Broden hadn’t. Now on his feet, there was nothing in his expression that told her he might be willing to change his mind.
Before she could talk herself out of it, she blurted out candidly, ‘So you really want to know my story, do you? Well, I’ll tell you, then...’
Tightly folding her arms across her red sweater, she began.
‘I was jilted by my fiancé on our wedding day. Left waiting at the church as if I wore a sign that said Reject on it...’
She paused to take in a breath.
‘It was horrendous. I kept trying to ring him, to find out what was going on, but he wasn’t taking my calls. And as I sat there, trying to work out what had happened and figure out the reason he wasn’t there, the waiting started to feel like the most horrible nightmare that I couldn’t wake up from. Time and time again I assured the vicar that he would definitely appear—that perhaps he’d slept through his alarm. But even as I said the words I knew I was only deluding myself. In those interminable few minutes, I went to hell and back. Then I began to do my own private autopsy... I had to. Had I missed something in the lead-up to the wedding that should have told me he wanted out?’
She looked forlorn for a second.
‘We’d talked about our plans so much. We’d even put a deposit down on a house. We were so excited that we were going to be together at last, in our own home. Greg seemed so happy... I never saw any signs that he wasn’t. But apparently he’d been having doubts about us for months. He said that the time just never seemed right to tell me—that he didn’t want to hurt me.
‘But it wasn’t just that. On the day we were due to marry he didn’t show up because he was with another woman. Someone from his work he’d been having an affair with. He’d been telling me a bunch of lies all along. I know you probably think I was an utter fool for trusting him, and I agree with you. But I never guessed for so much as a second that he’d rather be with someone else.
‘With hindsight I can see that I blinded myself to the truth because I loved him. I told myself that if we had any problems we could surely work them out. To cut a long story short, I believed he was at least honourable. Sadly, it turned out not to be the case. I found out that it’s not always an asset to try to see the best in people.’
Quietly, Seth asked, ‘How did you find out that he’d been cheating on you?’
‘His best man eventually turned up to put me in the picture. To give him credit, it was just as excruciating for him as it was for me. Greg didn’t tell him that he’d changed his mind until they met up supposedly to travel to the church.’
Not commenting right away, Seth felt his insides churn with dismay. What a bastard to behave so despicably to a sweet girl like Imogen, he thought.
Staring at her, he saw that her huge brown eyes were glassy with tears. Feeling an uncharacteristic urge to dispense comfort, he moved round the table to go to her. Almost immediately she backed away, like a wounded animal when it wanted to lick its wounds in