Enthralled by Moretti. Cathy WilliamsЧитать онлайн книгу.
head to one side as he picked up an unspoken message he wasn’t quite getting.
What was there to get or not get? he thought impatiently. The woman had strung him along, led him up the garden path and then had casually disappeared without a backward glance. Hell, she had made him feel things... No, he wasn’t going to go there.
‘No! No, I didn’t. I meant...’
‘I’m all ears.’
‘You don’t understand. I shouldn’t even have even to you. I was married.’
‘So why did you? Were you riding high on the knowledge that you’d managed to net the rich guy all the groupie students were after?’
‘That’s a very conceited thing to say.’
‘I value honesty. I lost track of the number of notes I got from girls asking for some “extra tuition”.’
If there hadn’t been notes, she thought, then he surely would have clocked the stares he’d garnered everywhere he went. The man was an alpha male with enough sex appeal to sink a ship. Throw in his wealth, and it was little wonder that girls were queuing up to see if they could attract his attention. She’d never, ever been at the university longer than was strictly necessary but, if she had been, she knew that she would have become a source of envy, curiosity and dislike.
‘So was that why you decided to keep your marital status under wraps? To take the wedding ring off? To string me along with the promise of sex?’
‘I never said we would end up in bed.’
‘Do me a favour!’ He slammed his empty glass on the table and Chase jumped. ‘You knew exactly what you were getting into!’
‘And I didn’t think... I never thought...’
‘So you lied about the fact that you weren’t single or available for a relationship.’
‘If I remember correctly, you once told me that you weren’t interested in commitment, that you liked your relationships fast and furious and temporary!’
Alessandro flushed darkly. ‘Weak reasoning,’ he gritted cuttingly. ‘Did you lie because you thought that you might try me out for size? See whether I wasn’t a better bet than the stay-at-home husband? Is that why you strung me along for four months? Were you hedging your bets?’ He shook his head, furious with himself for losing control of the conversation, for actually caring one way or another what had or hadn’t been done eight years previously.
‘No, of course not! And Shaun was never a stay-at-home husband.’ Again, that bitterness had crept into her voice.
‘No? So what was he, then?’ Alessandro leaned forward, the simple shift of body weight implying threat. ‘Banker? Entrepreneur? If I recall, you were a little light on detail. In fact, if my memory serves me right, you couldn’t wait to get out of my company fast enough the very last time we met.’
Alessandro was surprised to find that he could remember exactly what she had been wearing the very last time he’d laid eyes on her: a pair of faded skinny jeans tucked into some cheap imitation-suede boots and a jumper which now, thinking about it, had probably belonged to the ‘childhood sweetheart’ husband. On that thought, his jaw clenched and his eyes darkened.
It hadn’t taken her long to spill out the truth. Having spent months of innocent conversation, tentative advances and retreats and absolutely no physical contact—which had been hell for him—she had sat down opposite him at the wine bar which had become their favourite meeting place; at a good bus ride away, it was far from all things university. With very little preamble, and keeping her eyes glued to his face while around them little clusters of strangers had drunk, laughed and chatted, all very relaxed in the run-up to Christmas, she’d informed him that she would no longer be seeing him.
‘Sorry,’ he recalled her saying with a brittle smile. ‘It’s been a laugh, and thanks for all the help with the economics side of the course, but actually I’m married...’
She had wagged her ring finger in front of him, complete with never-before-seen wedding band.
Shaun McGregor, she had said airily. Love of her life. Had known him since they were both fifteen. She had even pulled out a picture of him from her beaten-up old wallet and waxed lyrical about his striking good looks.
Alessandro had stared long and hard at the photo of a young man with bright blue eyes and a shaved head. There was a tattoo at the side of his neck; he’d probably been riddled with them. It had been brought home to him sharply just what a fool he had been taken for. Not only had she strung him along for fun, but he had never actually been her type. Her husband had had all the fine qualities of a first-rate thug.
‘Shaun did lots of different things,’ Chase said vaguely. ‘But none of that matters now, anyway. The fact is, I’m sorry. I know it’s late in the day to apologise, but I’m apologising.’
‘Why did you use a different name?’
‘Huh?’
‘You used the name Lyla. Not just with me, with everyone. Why?’
‘I...’ How could she possibly explain that she had been a different person then? That she had had the chance to create a wonderful, shiny new persona, and that she had taken it, because what she could create had been so much better than the reality. She had still been clever, and she had never lied about her academic history but, she had thought, what was the harm in passing herself off as just someone normal? Someone with a solid middle-class background and parents who cared about her? It hadn’t been as though she would ever have been required to present these mysterious and fictitious parents to anyone.
And she had always made sure never to get too close to anyone—until Alessandro had come along. Even then, at the beginning, she had had no idea that she would fall so far, so fast and so deep, nor that the little white lies she had told at the beginning would develop into harmful untruths that she’d no longer be able to retract.
‘Well?’ Alessandro prompted harshly. ‘You lied about your single status and you lied about your name. So let’s take them one at a time.’ He signalled to a waitress and ordered himself another glass of beer. There went the afternoon, was the thought that passed through his mind. There was little chance he would be in the mood for a series of intense meetings and conference calls later. He was riveted by the hint of changing expressions on her face. He felt that he was in possession of a book, the meaning of which escaped him even though he had read the story from beginning to end. Then he cursed himself for being fanciful, which was so unlike him.
‘Lyla was my mother’s name. I like it. I didn’t think there was anything wrong in using it.’
‘And so you stopped liking it when you decided to join a law firm?’
‘You said we weren’t going to do a question-and-answer session!’ Her skin burned from the intensity of his eyes on her. Alessandro Moretti, even as a young man in his mid-twenties, had always had a powerful, predatory appeal. There was something dangerous about him that sent shivers up and down her spine and drew her to him, even when common sense told her it was mad. He certainly hadn’t lost that appeal.
‘It was easier to just use my real name when I joined Edge Ellison, that first law firm. I mean, my Christian name.’
‘Why am I getting the feeling that there are a thousand holes in whatever fairy story you’re spinning me?’
‘I’m not spinning you a fairy story!’ Chase snapped. Bright spots of colour stained her cheeks. ‘If you want, I can bring my birth certificate to show you!’ Except that would suggest a second meeting, which was not something that was going to be on the cards.
But what would he do if he found out where she really came from? What would he do if he discovered that the solid, middle-class background she had innocently hinted at had been about as real as a swimming pool in the middle of the Sahara?
He might be tempted to have a quiet chat with the head of