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Love Islands…The Collection. Jane PorterЧитать онлайн книгу.

Love Islands…The Collection - Jane Porter


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should I contact you?’ Her eyes flared with pain and anger. ‘You lied to me.’

      ‘I didn’t lie,’ he began. But she ignored him.

      ‘And when I tried to talk to you about it you didn’t want to know—’

      ‘It was our wedding.’ His face was as set as stone. ‘Funnily enough I thought we might have other things on our mind. Like celebrating!’

      ‘Celebrating what? The fact that you’d made a fool out of me. Or rather I’d made a fool out of myself. And now I’m doing it again.’

      She spat the words at him, wishing they weren’t just words but bricks—something that would hurt him as he had hurt her. Was still hurting her.

      ‘Calm down!’ His eyes were glittering, their hostile glare fixed on her face. ‘Terry might hear you.’

      ‘And you wouldn’t want that, would you, Malachi?’ Her heart was thumping so hard she could hardly hear herself. ‘You wouldn’t want someone to actually hear what you’re really like. How you use people. And exploit them. And hurt them.’

      ‘Addie—’ He started to speak but she shook her head.

      ‘No. You’ve said enough.’ She forced herself to meet his gaze. ‘How can you think this is okay? Treating me like this? Like some whore?’ The word stuck in her throat and suddenly she didn’t care any more. Not about the deal she’d made with Malachi. Or the charity. Or Terry.

      Blood roaring in her ears, she stared down at the slip sticking damply to her skin. She knew it was her body beneath the silk, but it didn’t feel as if it belonged to her.

      ‘You know, I thought nothing could ever feel as bad as when I found out I wouldn’t be able to play the piano professionally.’ It had been far worse five years ago, she thought dully. When she’d finally realised how ruthlessly Malachi had manipulated her love for him. The pain had felt like an actual wound.

      How impossible it would have been then to imagine that she could sink any lower.

      ‘It was like the end of everything.’ Her voice trembled and she drew in a breath, pushing past the lump of misery in her throat. ‘But I faced up to it. And I turned it into something good. Only you treating me like this—it’s made me feel like I don’t matter. That I’m nothing.’

      It was true. She had never felt so utterly worthless. So tainted, so sordid.

      ‘I don’t even know who I am any more.’ She swallowed, fighting to get her words out. ‘I just know I don’t like myself...this person I’ve become...’ Her voice faltered and failed.

      Malachi felt sick. He had known about her accident but he’d had no idea that it had robbed her of her dreams. She should have told him, he thought dully. Only why would she? Right from the start he’d made it clear that his past was off limits, and he’d never once encouraged her to talk about herself.

      He stared at her in silence. She looked crushed, her face pale and trembling, her beautiful blue eyes clouded with pain. But it was her hands, clenched protectively in front of her, that made his body tense with shock.

      He didn’t like seeing her like that. He certainly didn’t like knowing that he was responsible. The thought made him feel guilty, ashamed. He had turned their marriage into a game. He had trapped her and tried to manipulate her into doing what he wanted. He knew just how that felt, and yet he’d hurt her as he’d been hurt. His skin burned with shame.

      ‘Addie—’ Reaching out, he touched her hand gently, his heart twisting as she stiffened and shrank backwards.

      ‘I can’t do this,’ she whispered.

      With shock, he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. He had never seen her cry and his throat felt tight. He didn’t want to feel her pain. Didn’t want to feel anything. But he had hurt her, and for the first time in a long, long time he wanted to face the pain. Her pain. Face it and erase it.

      He took a step closer. ‘Please listen to me, sweetheart.’

      But, refusing to meet his gaze, she edged further away from his hand.

      He stared at her uncertainly. What was he supposed to say? A cold, dull ache was seeping through his veins and he felt completely out of his depth. He’d spent most of his life avoiding scenes and confrontations, shunning anything remotely emotional, but as his eyes fixed on Addie’s stricken face he felt his heart contract.

      Suddenly his desires didn’t seem all that important in comparison with comforting her. With helping her rebuild what he had so ruthlessly crushed.

      He took a deep breath. ‘I’m not a good person, Addie. I know that. But I swear it wasn’t my intention to hurt you. And I can prove it to you if you let me. Please, Addie, let me make this right.’

      ‘How can you?’ she said flatly. ‘Look what we’re doing to each other. To our marriage. It’s just so wrong—’

      ‘It doesn’t have to be like this.’

      She heard him inhale and, looking up, saw that his eyes were fixed on her face, his expression strained.

      ‘We can start over.’

      For a moment she didn’t reply and he held his breath, watching, waiting, until finally she lifted her head and sighed.

      ‘I don’t know what that means. But you’d better go and talk to Terry. I’m sure he’s got better things to do than stand around on your doorstep.’

      He nodded and walked swiftly into the hallway. She heard the door open and a muffled conversation. Moments later, the door closed and he returned.

      ‘He’s gone.’ He met her gaze. ‘Do you want me to go too?’

      His face was set, and yet he seemed less self-assured than usual—as though he wasn’t quite certain of her reply.

      She gazed at him in silence. Was he playing with her? Or was he trying to make amends? Finally, she shook her head. ‘No. I don’t want you to go.’’

      He breathed out slowly. ‘I meant what I said, sweetheart. About starting again.’

      She watched in silence as, hesitantly, he reached out and touched her face.

      ‘I want it to be good between us here.’

      She bit her lip. ‘Think about what’s happening here, Malachi. I sold myself to you.’

      Shaking his head, he stroked her cheek gently. ‘Look at it this way: I can only afford you for a month.’

      She gave him a tiny smile. ‘Nice try! But I know a bluff when I hear one.’

      ‘I’m not bluffing. You’re a Royal Flush, sweetheart.’

      He watched her face shift, the hurt showing through, and feeling a spasm of panic he reached out and grabbed her hands.

      ‘I’m sorry. That was crass. I know you probably find this hard to believe, but not every thought I have is about poker.’ He hesitated. ‘Some are about you. Quite a lot, actually.’ He felt her hands stiffen and, curling his fingers more tightly, he shook his head. ‘I don’t mean those kind of thoughts. I mean about you. The person you are.’

      Addie stared at him in confusion. Was this really her uber-cool husband? He looked anything but cool. In fact he looked nervous, almost as though he didn’t quite know what he was saying or doing.

      She bit her lip. ‘And who am I?’

      His hands tightened around hers. ‘You’re a fighter. And a dreamer. Look at how you came back stronger after your accident.

      ‘It stopped you from doing what you loved most but you didn’t stop. You started a charity. Most people would have given up.’

      Addie eyes him wearily. ‘You wouldn’t.’


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