by Julia James
His expression changed.
‘That day you came to me at my offices in Lucerne, expecting me to give you what you wanted, I was tough on you. I didn’t make allowances for you and I should have. But now I do make those allowances. And, just as it wasn’t fair of me to expect you to be able to do secretarial work for me, so it wasn’t fair of me to expect you to try and take on something as major as a complete hotel refit.’
He picked his words carefully, for he did not want to hurt her feelings.
‘I realise that your father let you enjoy trying out your design ideas on his properties, and that he indulged you in this, but I would hate for you to spend any more time with your paints and fabrics, however much you’ve been enthusing over them.’ He smiled at her with fond affection. ‘The hotel is a major project—a huge amount of work will be involved—and I’ll be hiring a firm of professionals at some point to take it on.’
He smiled again, trying to be tactful.
‘You don’t have to worry about it any more. Besides, you won’t have time to do anything like that—not if you’re going to be with me from now on. I’d far rather you spent all your time and energy on me!’ he said lightly, keeping his tone humorous, so as not to upset her.
Then, in a more serious vein, having—he hoped—explained to her as gently as he could why she no longer had to feel she should work for him, he went on. This was the key message he needed her to absorb—the message that would reassure her, that would ensure she was never tempted to leave him again. This was where he would explain that he would provide all she could ever want or need or dream of.
He softened his voice and stroked her hair, gazing down into her wide, wide eyes. ‘Because, Talia, from now on you won’t have to face the world on your own.’ He dropped a tender kiss on her lips. ‘From now on you’ll have me to look after you. To take care of you.’ His fingers dropped to the glittering ruby bracelet around her wrist where it lay across his chest, tapping it gently. ‘This is a token—proof of how much I want you, of how much I want to take care of you. You can trust me, Talia, because of this. That’s what I want you to know.’
He lifted his hand away and traced the soft outline of her parted lips as she lay gazing up at him. He could not read her expression, but that did not trouble him. She would be taking in his words, finding in them the reassurance he wanted her to have. The knowledge that she was safe to commit herself to him as she had not dared to do before,
‘You won’t have to leave me again, Talia. I know you did that first night, because you were afraid. Afraid to risk coming with me because you might have been disappointed. I was a stranger—you knew nothing about me other than that we lit fires inside each other. So you went back to the safety and the security of your existing life.’
His expression changed.
‘I was angry with you then. For walking out on me. For rejecting me. But since then—since our time together—I’ve come to terms with it. And now that your old life is gone, now that it’s behind you, I acknowledge...’ He paused, and when he spoke again there was a rueful quality to his voice. It was guarded, as well. ‘I freely admit that my actions caused the destruction of your former life. Maybe you can accept this bracelet as...as recompense?’ His voice warmed and he gazed lovingly upon her. ‘As my promise to you that I will take care of you from now on.’
He trailed his finger along the glittering gems once again.
‘Rubies are beautiful, but so many other gemstones would suit you, too!’ He relaxed back against the pillows, his hand cupping her shoulder affectionately. ‘Hong Kong is brilliant for jewellery,’ he told her. ‘And how about a Tahitian pearl necklace when we explore the South Seas? Would you like that? Hand-picked from oysters of our own choosing!’
Talia was looking at him. There was something strange about her expression, and in her voice when she spoke. ‘Oysters die when you take the pearls to make a necklace from them.’
He gave a rueful laugh. It was an odd thing for her to say, to be sure, but he had a reply for it all the same. ‘There’s a price to be paid for everything in life, Talia. No one can escape it.’
‘Yes, you’re right,’ she said quietly. She lifted the hand which was weighed down by the ribbon of rubies and shifted her gaze to look at it.
‘Do you like it?’ Luke asked softly. He knew she did, but he wanted to hear her say so.
‘It’s beautiful. Exquisite,’ she acknowledged, though her tone was unexpectedly flat.
His hand tightened around her shoulder. ‘And so are you, Talia. Beautiful. Exquisite.’
There was a husk in his voice, a quickening in his limbs. He felt arousal stir and begin to take him over. He started to kiss her, opening her soft mouth to his, letting his free hand drop to her breast, moulding it with his palm until it peaked between his scissoring fingers.
She gave a low moan in her throat—a sound that was so familiar to him now that it served to heighten his own arousal. He moved his body over hers, beginning his possession. He would lose himself to this woman, and for some reason that no longer frightened him. He wanted to lose himself to her, this beautiful woman. She might be the daughter of his enemy, but that was behind them now that he had cleared the air.
A tide of passion flooded through him as he felt the facets of the rubies brush against his shoulder when she lifted her hand to snake it around the nape of his neck. He could feel her surrender to the passion flooding through her as powerfully as it was through him. Her fingers meshed into his hair, shaping his skull, deepening her own kisses.
His last conscious thought was, She will never leave me now. Never.
Triumph filled him. Triumph and absolute certainty.
Yet when he woke at dawn she was gone.
CHAPTER NINE
TALIA CLIMBED OUT of the taxi which had brought her from the train station. Her journey back to Marbella had been long and arduous. It had begun with her creeping from the villa, catching the early-morning bus to the capital, then taking another bus to the airport.
She had been reluctant to waste her meagre resources on taxis, and for the same reason she’d bought the cheapest flight available, which had meant multiple changes at various airports before she’d finally landed in Malaga to take the coastal train to Marbella.
Tiredness ate at her—and, worse than tiredness, a desolation of the spirit such as she had never known. She had thought she’d felt desolation before, on that morning after the party when she’d forced herself to leave the man who had swept her off her feet.
But that had not been desolation like this.
She felt again that crushing, stifling feeling in her chest as she stepped inside the luxurious villa that was like a mocking ghost from a life that had ceased to exist.
Maria greeted her warmly, and with a grim effort Talia pasted a doggedly bright smile on her face. It was a smile that softened as she went out onto the terrace to find her mother relaxing in the shade, looking a hundred times healthier than when Talia had last set eyes on her.
‘Mum—oh, you’re looking so much better!’ Relief flooded through Talia as she greeted her mother. It was the only good emotion she’d felt since—
She sheared her thoughts away. They had been agony for her all the way back here, and she could bear to think them no longer. Not now when she had to face her mother. When she had to hide the truth from her. When she had to hide what she had so nearly been reduced to. It had taken all her strength to reject Luke’s promises and she could not bear to think about it.
‘Well, I’ve Maria to thank for that.’ Her mother smiled, encompassing the Spanish woman still beaming at Talia’s return.
‘I made sure she ate!’ Maria pronounced.
‘Oh, dear, I’m sure I’ve put on pounds!’ Maxine Grantham admitted, as if that was a crime. But then, if her father had been here, for her mother to have gained even half a pound would indeed have
been a crime.
‘Do you think I want a fat wife?’ he had berated her often enough, if he’d thought Maxine was looking anything less than fashionably stick-thin.
Talia’s eyes darkened. As usual, her mother had done whatever it took to please the husband she was devoted to—including taking the slimming pills that had weakened her heart.
And what might I have done to please a man? The man I was devoted to until the veils were ripped from my eyes.
She sheared her mind away and silenced the pain inside.
‘Well, it suits you—you look much healthier,’ she said firmly to her mother, smiling brightly.
She would not let her mother think about her controlling husband. Instead she told her again how well she looked, and thanked Maria for her care of her.
Maria bustled off to make supper, refusing Talia’s offer to help, leaving her to sit down beside her mother and enjoy the last of the evening sunshine. Low sunlight glinted on the pool beyond the terrace and bathed the garden in warmth.
‘I’m so glad you’re home, darling!’ her mother exclaimed. ‘Maria has been an angel, but I’ve missed you!’ Her eyes lit up. ‘Now, tell me—how did it go? Tell me all about it!’
Talia braced herself. She’d known her mother would ask questions—known she had to find something to say. Because it was the safest thing, she launched into a description of the island, knowing it would divert her mother. But as she rattled on pain and bitterness twisted inside her.
All the long journey home she’d kept hearing Luke’s words to her. Words that had stripped from her the pathetic illusions she’d been building up. Words that had shown her—brutally and unambiguously—what he truly thought about her. Behind the smiles and the kisses and the passion there had always been this.
He had reduced her to the most abject and contemptible of human beings. He thought her a pampered doll, useless and worthless, totally talentless, amusing herself with pretending to be a designer. He thought she had a sky-high sense of entitlement and he believed she thought the world owed her not just a living but a deluxe lifestyle. The man she loved saw her as a spoiled princess, to be indulged and sheltered from life’s vicissitudes, unable to cope with anything at all. A pet who had to be tossed bracelets and baubles to keep her happy, to make her feel valued and protected.
No! She couldn’t bear to think of it! Couldn’t bear to face what Luke truly thought of her.
She bit her lip to stop the emotional pain, making it physical instead.
‘Darling, what is it?’ Her mother’s hand pressed on her arm. ‘You look upset. Oh, darling girl, don’t worry if you don’t get the commission after all. It would be lovely if you did, but as soon as your father gets home we won’t have to worry about anything like that any more. He’ll be taking care of us again soon.’
Talia tensed, as if jerked on a wire.
‘Mum, don’t!’ Her words were blurted out, harsh and angry.
Her mother looked hurt and shocked, and Talia tried to soften the impact. To hear her mother still mouthing such impossibilities, still believing in them, was galling. But it was more than that for Talia—her mother’s words were an echo of Luke’s promise.
Luke said he’d take care of me.
She hauled her mind away. She must not let herself hear those words in her head again. She had to banish him completely.
Pain and bitterness twisted again, and she cast about to find some way of replying to her mother’s useless longing.
‘Mum, he’s not coming back. You mustn’t think that’s going to happen. You have to face the truth.’
Her mother’s expression hadn’t changed. ‘No, darling. We mustn’t give up on him. We mustn’t give up hope. He’s simply sorting things out. He’s off somewhere, making everything right again. You’ll see. He’ll be home soon and everything will be back to normal—just the way it should be. We’ll get back our lovely home by the river and—’
Something snapped inside Talia. She couldn’t stop herself. The gruelling journey had left her dog-tired physically—but infinitely worse was the despairing bleakness inside her, which had left her at the very edge of self-control. And now it snapped like an elastic band that had been stretched tighter and tighter.
She leapt to her feet. ‘Mum, stop it! Just stop it! Dad isn’t coming back. He’s left us here to cope with nothing. No money, no assets—nothing. Everything’s gone—including this villa.’
‘No, don’t say that—please. I can’t bear it.’
Her mother’s face had contorted and Talia cursed herself for losing her rag the way she had. Her mother couldn’t cope with the brutal reality into which her husband’s ruin and disappearance had forced them.
‘You told me you’d sorted it all out,’ her mother rushed on now. ‘That the villa is ours.’
Talia closed her eyes in weariness and dejection. ‘Only for three months, Mum. Just to give us time to find somewhere else to live...for you to get strong enough to face the truth of what Dad’s done.’
A moan came from her mother, and Talia’s dismay at her rash outburst deepened. But it was too late to stop now.
‘We have to be grateful we can stay on even for that long. It was the deal I agreed—I would do some initial design work in the Caribbean in exchange for three months here in the villa to get you well and strong. I struck a bargain with Luke Xenakis—the man who now owns everything that’s left of Grantham Land.’
Her mother’s expression changed and her hand flashed out to grasp Talia’s arm. ‘You’ve been working for that man? That dreadful man who stole your father’s company from him!’ she gasped, aghast.
Talia sighed heavily. ‘He didn’t steal it, Mum—he just took it over. That’s the way these business deals happen—’
‘He ruined your father!’ Maxine shot back.
‘No, Mum. Dad did that himself. He went under because he took out more and more unsupported loans. Luke Xenakis just bought up what was left—which is why he’s ended up owning everything that once belonged to Dad’s company.’
Her mother’s face contorted again. ‘I don’t care what you say happened—he ruined your father! How could you agree to work for him? How could you?’
‘I told you, Mum. It was the only way to get him to let us stay on here until you’re strong enough to move.’
‘I can’t bear it!’ Maxine wailed, wringing her hands. ‘To be beholden to that dreadful man! I hope you gave him a piece of your mind for what he’s done to us?’
Talia rubbed her forehead. No, she had not given Luke a piece of her mind. She had given him everything else, but not that.
I gave him everything willingly, gloriously—my body, my soul. I would have gone anywhere with him, done anything for him.
But, she thought bitterly, she had concocted a fantasy in which he loved her the way she loved him. In which he knew her, respected her, believed in her...
I gave him my stupid, worthless heart, and all he wanted was me between the sheets.
A sob broke from her. She couldn’t stop it. Couldn’t stop the one that came after, either, which tore like barbed wire through her throat, choked from her, desperate and despairing.
‘Darling!’ Her mother’s voice was different now. ‘Darling, what is it? Oh, my darling, what’s the matter? Was it that dreadful man? What did he do to you! Tell me, darling—tell me what he did to you.’
And, to Talia’s mortification and tearful dismay, she broke into uncontrollable sobs and told her mother just how Luke Xenakis had broken her heart.
* * *
Luke was on his balcony. In his bedroom, his suitcase was being packed. Rage scythed in him. More than rage. Worse than rage. Blackness filled him, obliterating everything around.
She had done it to him again. She had walked out on him. Just upped and gone without a word. Not even a note this time.
But he had
n’t needed a note to know the brutal truth. She did not want him. Still did not want him. She had rejected him—left him again.
His fists spasmed in the depths of his trouser pockets, his face contorting.
I did everything I could think of to make her happy. Everything!
This time he’d known who she was, what she was. That first time, after the party, he’d taken her at face value—had never dreamt in a million years that she would be Grantham’s daughter, that she would be a pampered princess, the spoiled and indulged daughter of his sworn enemy. This time he’d known just what he needed to do to give her what she wanted, what she expected so that she would stay.
But she’d still walked out on him. Still rejected him.
He felt pain like a whiplash across his shoulders. Pain that was a thousand times worse than it had ever been that first time.
How could she walk out on me? After all those nights when we burned in each other’s arms! After all those carefree days, the companionship, the togetherness?
But it had meant nothing to her—nothing at all!
Bitterness flowed in his veins like acid, etching into his flesh, consuming him from the inside out until he was nothing more than a hollow shell. Until there was nothing but raw pain to keep him upright.
Roughly, he turned away from the view he couldn’t see, was blinded from seeing by his inner turmoil. He couldn’t bear to see the azure pool where they had disported themselves, dazzling in the hot sunshine, the terrace they had lounged on, dined on, with candlelight catching her hair, the languorous warmth of the night like a caress...
He stalked indoors. He wanted out of here—as fast as he could.
‘Are you done yet?’ he demanded.
He didn’t mean to sound curt, but impatience drove him. He was desperate to be on his way to the airport, to leave this place. He had to get to Hong Kong, then maybe Shanghai. He would do business there—profitable business. Because doing profitable business was what he did with his life, wasn’t it? He made money. At first it had all been to bring down Grantham, but now it would be for its own sake. It was what he was good at, after all.
