Modern Romance Collection: November 2017 Books 5 - 8. Annie WestЧитать онлайн книгу.
depths searching her face. ‘In that case, after tomorrow’s meeting with my brother, you will be pleased to know I will have no further cause to hound you, as you so nicely put it. Our engagement will be over.’
‘Then you should have this back.’ She pulled her arm free of his, the comfortable companionship of moments ago gone for good. It was for the best and, trying to push down the pain, she slid the engagement ring from her finger. ‘I have no need of it any longer.’
The expression on his face held a hint of that amusement she found so annoying but, even so, a twinge of regret raced through her. The last few days had been so different, the pressure to be anything but herself had disappeared and she’d felt more comfortable with him than she had with anyone. The thought of giving it up saddened her. Was what they’d shared over the last few days what being in a real relationship felt like? Was that the closest she would ever come to knowing love?
‘And I do?’ The imperious question held such command that the birds in the trees above them seemed to stop singing, as if waiting to see what would happen next.
‘Next time you need a convenient fiancée you will have the ring ready and at your disposal.’ All the hurt she’d felt echoed in her words, despite her trying to keep it in.
His eyes darkened with anger and with a satisfied smile she turned and began to walk once more. It took seconds for him to join her.
‘I had thought you were different.’
‘From what?’ She kept her voice light and flirtatious, determined he shouldn’t guess at the hurt that was lancing through her, the broken and unattainable dreams this weekend had brought to light.
‘From the spoilt little rich girl I first met at the dinner party. From the demanding woman who’d waited for me in the restaurant three weeks ago.’ The silky softness of his voice almost disguised the underlying disgust at just who he thought she really was.
‘Maybe that was part of the act.’ She didn’t look at him. She didn’t dare. She focused on the long path ahead of them, trying instead to wonder what the other people walking in the park were doing. Wondering if they were happy and in love as she’d almost begun to believe she might be. What a fool she’d been.
The night of the dinner party, when she’d first met Raul, she’d acted to a role she’d thought her father had wanted her to play. It had been one last futile attempt at bridging the ever growing gap between her and her father. It had also been what had made Raul look at her with distaste. From that moment onwards, she’d done as her grandmother had always advised and been herself.
‘You have acted your part of loving fiancée very well, querida. I for one was convinced.’ This time, a steely undertone reverberated in every word, but still she walked, not daring to look up at him and certainly not daring to stop, to have those dark eyes fix on hers and see the truth of her feelings for him.
‘It was what was expected, was it not, in order to convince the board that we were prepared to marry?’ She quickened her step. Maybe if they left the park they could leave this topic behind.
‘Then I applaud you. You even fooled me, especially when you were in my bed.’
She stopped and whirled round to face him. Didn’t he have any idea that these last few days had not been about the deal? They had been about letting go, being herself—being with him, the man she’d fallen ever harder for. How dared he bring that up, make it sound as if she’d bartered with herself, sold her body, just to clear her father’s debts?
‘At least you cannot deny I have kept my part of the deal.’ The angry words flew at him but to her utter annoyance her response amused him, serving only to make her even angrier.
* * *
Raul smiled as the glitter of anger sparkled in her eyes, far more dazzling than the ring she’d just given back to him. With the afternoon sun shining through the bare branches of the trees above them and then dancing in her hair, she looked so very beautiful. Once again, that need to have more, to find more with this woman, surged forwards. He savagely pushed it down, hid it behind a sharp retort.
‘No, I cannot,’ he said curtly. ‘Even when we were alone you maintained the act of attraction, carried it through to a most satisfying conclusion.’
She paled and a spike of guilt lanced at him. This was the one and only woman he’d wanted to get close to, get to know better, and yet he was emotionally pushing her away, wounding her with his words. It just proved he wasn’t a man who should settle down, who should be given the responsibility of someone’s heart, someone’s deepest emotions. Whether he liked it or not, he was far too much like his father.
‘I despise you, Raul—for everything you have done.’ She pulled herself free of his hold and began to march away.
‘Where are you going, Lydia?’
He watched the sway of her hips in the white jeans that hugged her legs allowing him to see and appreciate her. It also reminded him how it felt to have them wrapped around his body as he’d made her his—even if it was only for the weekend.
She turned and faced him once more, her pretty face set in the firm grip of anger. ‘Nothing would induce me to stay a moment longer in your company, Raul. I’m going back to London—today.’
For the briefest of seconds, he floundered, then control and coldness returned. ‘You agreed we would return together.’
‘I have things to attend to, Raul.’ The ice in her voice chilled him far more than the winter wind that had begun to sweep through the park.
‘What things?’
‘I have dress selections to make.’
‘Ah, but of course, the busy life of a socialite—shopping is your prime concern.’ He couldn’t keep the sarcasm from his voice as he walked towards her, closing the distance once again. Her green eyes glittered watchfully as he moved closer still. If he reached out now he could stroke the soft skin of her face, slide his finger beneath her chin, lifting it up, and then he would be able to kiss her.
‘That just proves you don’t know me at all.’ Her angry words halted the desire-driven thoughts of kissing her once more.
‘So, what is it you have hidden from me?’ Suspicion slipped over him and he narrowed his eyes as she continued to glare challengingly up at him. ‘Are you still the spoilt girl I first met, concerned only with parties and shopping?’
‘I was almost seventeen, Raul. It’s what teenagers do. Yes, I party sometimes, I’m also often out in London, but it is business, Raul. You of all people should know that necessity.’ A hint of satisfaction spread over her face, forcing her lips to stretch into a smile.
‘And what business would this be?’ Now he was intrigued. He’d always thought there was more to Lydia Carter-Wilson than she allowed people to see, but why had she hidden it from him?
‘I have several successful ladies’ fashion boutiques, one in London and one in Paris. I had thought to open one here in Madrid. I even made a useful contact whilst shopping for the silver dress I wore to the party.’
He couldn’t say anything; his mind had instantly gone back to Friday evening, to dancing so very close with her and then taking her home, where he’d removed the dress.
Lydia continued her self-satisfied attack as he struggled momentarily against the memory of that night. ‘But that would mean running the risk of seeing you again, so I will forget that idea.’
‘And why did you keep this from me as well as your ability to speak my language?’ Finally, he pushed the erotic memory to one side.
‘The truth?’
‘Yes.’
‘You hated me when we first met and it made me think my grandmother’s advice was right—to just be myself.’
His mind raced back to that moment at the dinner party when they’d first