by Annie West
He strode across to loom over her so she had to arch her neck to look at him. ‘Don’t lie, Imogen.’ Pain settled like a weighted blanket. ‘We’ve always had the truth between us.’ It was one of the things he’d most appreciated about her. She was direct and open, someone he could believe in.
‘You want the truth?’ Abruptly, the blankness was gone and heat shimmered in her eyes. ‘The truth is marrying you was the biggest mistake of my life. I’ve had enough and I’m going home. I’ve booked a flight to Australia. Once I’m there I’ll see about a divorce.’
The light dimmed and for a second Thierry’s vision blurred, like the time he’d almost knocked himself out on a ski run in Austria. He braced himself, bending his knees slightly to counteract the sensation that he was swaying.
Yet nothing counteracted the horrible clogging in his chest, or the fierce pain slicing through his gullet.
‘You’re not going anywhere.’ He didn’t consciously form the words. They simply shot from his stiff lips.
‘You’re going to stop me by force?’ Her eyebrows rose, giving her a haughty look that reminded him of his grandmother at her most disapproving. But his grandmother had never struck fear into him as Imogen did.
He stumbled back then steadied himself. ‘I won’t let you go.’
In a slither of fabric, she rose, standing toe to toe with him. ‘You can’t stop me.’
He shook his head, trying to fathom what had happened. Only hours ago everything had been fine.
‘You know I can.’ His voice was low and urgent and when he touched her cheek he felt as well as heard her sudden intake of breath. ‘We’re good together, Imogen. You can’t seriously want to give that up.’
Her head reared back and his hand fell. ‘Sex?’ She sneered. ‘Yes, that’s good. But why would I uproot myself just for that? It was a mad idea to think of staying in France.’
Thierry’s eyes widened at her determination, and fear engulfed him. More than that. Fear was what he’d felt in the accident that had ended his Olympic skiing career. And the time his parachute had jammed before finally releasing.
This was more. This was on a level he’d never experienced. It was slow, grinding terror. Instead of creating a surge of defiant adrenalin that gave him courage to face danger, this weakened his very bones.
It made him feel...helpless.
‘You think this is just about sex?’ He saw her flinch and realised his voice had risen to a roar.
Thierry backed up, astonished at his loss of control. He never shouted. He never lost control. But he’d never felt anything like this visceral dread.
Before he could apologise she spoke, so softly and steadily the contrast with his own exclamation shamed him. ‘If this relationship isn’t about sex, tell me what it is about, Thierry.’
Her gaze held his gravely, and he swallowed. He flexed his hands.
‘Our child...’
She dropped her eyes, her shoulders sagging before that bright hazel gaze met his again. ‘Our child will do very well without this. It doesn’t need us to live together in a farce of a marriage to be happy and healthy. I’d never try to cut you out of its life.’
So, he was to be a long-distance parent? Outrage flared.
‘A farce? There’s nothing farcical about this marriage, Imogen.’ Fury leavened the horror. After all he’d done, all he offered, that was what she thought of them together? ‘It’s real. As real as French law can make it.’ As real as he could make it.
‘I don’t care about the law, Thierry.’ She folded her arms. ‘I care about the fact I’ve married a man who doesn’t love me. Who can never love me.’ Her eyebrows rose as if in challenge. ‘I want more. It was a mistake thinking I could settle for less.’
‘I told you I didn’t sleep with that woman.’ This time, instead of anger, he felt desperation. Why wouldn’t she believe him?
She shook her head. ‘This isn’t about her. This is about the fact you’ll never really want me. Not for myself, just for the heir I’m providing, and because physically we’re compatible.’
Imogen paced to the window, and Thierry tracked her with his eyes, willing down the need to haul her close and seduce her into forgetting this nonsense. Seduction wouldn’t work this time.
His gut clenched in panic.
‘We talked about this.’ He kept his voice low and persuasive. ‘We’ve got the basis of a great marriage.’
‘No!’ This time the shake of her head splayed dark tresses around her shoulders. ‘I’ve changed, Thierry. Once upon a time I’d have been willing to put up with second best, with not quite achieving the dream. Once I didn’t dare to dream because I was too busy being cautious. But thinking I was dying gave me courage.’ She paused, a wistful smile curving her lips.
‘So did you, Thierry. You helped me to be brave. You encouraged me to follow my dreams.’ She hefted a breath that lifted her lovely breasts. ‘My dream is to love and be loved. As simple and as huge as that.’
She rubbed her hands up her arms as if cold. Did she too feel the draught of icy air coursing around him?
‘I understand you’ll never love me, Thierry. You explained you don’t believe in romance. Plus, I’m not the woman for you. I’m not blonde or sophisticated.’ She shrugged. ‘The woman you met in Paris wore borrowed plumage, just like tonight, and pretended to fit in, though she knew she was an outsider. I don’t belong in your world, so it’s better I go.’
‘To find a man to love?’ The words grated from his throat, leaving it raw.
Her face twisted with what looked like anguish. Except he was the one being torn apart.
‘If I can.’
He stalked forward, grabbing her hands. They were cold. He looked down at her small, capable fingers in his and knew he couldn’t bear to release her. It was asking too much.
‘No.’ His voice was a scrape of sound.
‘Sorry?’
‘You can’t do that.’
Thierry watched his thumbs trace a possessive path across her knuckles. He imagined their hands together in twenty years, forty years, veined and wrinkled. The image made him feel...right inside. The idea of Imogen giving herself to another man, growing old with him instead, turned Thierry’s stomach.
‘You can’t do it to me.’
‘To you?’
Thierry met her questioning eyes. Instantly heat, recognition and emotion slammed into him. All those feelings that had been growing since the night he’d looked across a crowd in Paris and seen Imogen.
At first he’d thought it simple attraction, sexual desire with a dollop of curiosity and vicarious pleasure in watching her wide-eyed excitement at so many new experiences. But his feelings went way beyond that. They had almost from the first.
She tugged to free herself and his grip tightened.
‘Let me go, Thierry.’ Desperation laced her words. It gave him hope when moments ago there’d been none. There must be a reason she sounded as desperate as he felt.
‘I can’t.’ It was the simple truth. How had she put it? Simple and huge. The truth was so huge it felt like he’d swallowed the sun.
Thierry met his wife’s eyes, willing her to believe, to understand, to share what he felt. ‘I can’t, Imogen, because I love you.’
* * *
Thierry’s hands on hers kept her standing as the room whirled. His arm came around her, strong and sure. Yet it was the look in his eyes that held her immobile. A look she’d never seen.
How was that for wishful thinking?
‘Don’t lie, Thierry.’ She choked on the words.
He held her gaze, and she could almost believe she read desperation there. Enough to feign love now he realised it was what she wanted?
‘I don’t lie, Imogen.’ He spoke gravely.
How badly she wanted thi
s to be true! Enough to half-believe him, though it defied logic. ‘I can’t take any more, Thierry. Not tonight.’
‘This can’t wait.’ Before she knew it she was high in his arms, cradled against his chest. She tried to be strong, but found her cheek nestling against him. His unique scent filled her. If this was the last time he held her she was determined to commit every detail to memory.
He moved, and her heart hammered, but he wasn’t carrying her to bed. She was grateful. He’d be hard to resist if he tried to seduce her. Surely it was relief, not disappointment, she felt when he settled on the window seat, cradling her?
‘I love you, Imogen.’ The words vibrated through his body into hers. They wafted warm air in her hair.
‘Thierry. Please.’ She swallowed pain. ‘Don’t pretend. I won’t stop you seeing our baby. You’ll still have access.’
‘This isn’t about the baby. It’s about us.’
Imogen turned her face into his chest, absurdly seeking comfort from the very man she shouldn’t. ‘It’s not about us. This is pride speaking. You just don’t want to let go.’ Not after he’d shown his bride to his friends and all those society people.
‘Of course I won’t let you go. Not without a fight. It’s taken a lifetime to find you.’
Shock caught her throat. Sincerity throbbed in every word. But it couldn’t be.
Tilting her head, she leaned back enough to see him. Tension accentuated the planes and angles of that remarkable face. His mouth was grim, but his eyes looked lost. Surely not!
‘Don’t play games, Thierry.’ Her voice scraped. ‘It’s cruel. That’s not you.’
His arms tightened. ‘What would be cruel is losing you. I love you, Imogen. Nothing matters but that.’
Her heart thudded in her throat and there was a rushing in her ears. ‘You don’t believe in love. You told me.’
‘I was an arrogant, ignorant fool.’ He brushed her cheek with a touch so tender it made her eyes well. ‘Don’t cry, Imogen. I want you to be happy.’
She opened her mouth to tell him she’d be happy if he released her. But it wasn’t true.
‘I’m not your type. I’m not tall and glamorous or—’
‘You’re so much my type I don’t think I could live without you.’ Her heart squeezed. ‘As for me chasing blondes...’ He shook his head. ‘My tastes have matured. I never loved any of them.’
‘Not even Sandrine?’
His mouth twisted. ‘Does it make me sound old if I admit that was youthful folly? I was besotted but I’m glad she married someone else. We’d have made each other unhappy. We’re too alike, too self-centred.’
‘You’re not.’ His care for her had been anything but.
‘I am. Now I’ve found you, I’ll do anything to keep you.’
‘Like pretend to love me.’
He cupped her cheek, holding her so she couldn’t look away.
‘There’s no pretence. From the first you were different. I didn’t know how or why but I felt it. Didn’t you?’ He barely paused. ‘I told myself you were a breath of fresh air, a diversion, but you were much more. I was on the point of trying to find your address in Australia when you appeared at my office.’
‘Really?’ Her breath stilled.
‘Really. I didn’t know I was in love. Obviously I’m a slow learner. But it’s true. I’ve been falling for you since that night in Paris.’
Hope vied with disbelief, stealing her words, jumbling her thoughts.
‘But the woman you met in Paris wasn’t the real me. I’m boring and—’
A crack of laughter stopped her. ‘Boring? Anything but. You’re more exciting than anyone I know.’
Imogen shook her head. ‘You don’t understand.’
‘I understand. You’re cautious, you like to weigh your options. You love numbers and order. But there’s more. That woman in Paris is just another side to your personality, even though you suppressed her for years. You weren’t pretending, just letting her loose.’ His smile was so tender her heart turned over. ‘Your zest for life is contagious and you help me be the man I want to be. The thought of losing you...’ To her amazement, his voice cracked.
‘Thierry?’
‘Don’t ever say you’re not glamorous.’ The authoritative confidence was back in his voice. ‘You’re the most gorgeous woman on the planet, whether you’re in a ballgown, or old jeans or nothing.’ His voice dipped. ‘Preferably nothing.’
‘Now you’re lying,’ she gasped.
He smiled. ‘You’re the most extraordinary woman in the world. I love you, Imogen. Stay with me and in time maybe you’ll love me back.’
Her heartbeat snagged. He truly didn’t know?
‘But you don’t want a wife to tie you down. You want freedom. A life of adventures like the one you’re planning with Orsino.’
He shook his head. ‘Before you I pined for what I’d lost—the freedom to take off at a moment’s notice. I told myself I hated the job I’d been forced to do and it was true in the beginning. But I’ve come to realise I enjoy commerce. I like the cut and thrust of it, sizing up opportunities and making the most of them.’ His smile was self-deprecating.
‘I’ve had to do a lot of growing up recently. From self-absorbed playboy to responsible adult. It was hard but I’m happy with the outcome.’ Thierry’s thumb stroked her cheek.
‘I’d already decided I need balance in my life. Now the business is on track, I can step back a little and have a life outside the office. But I don’t want to step back totally. I want to run the business and find time for a little climbing or ballooning. But what I want most of all...’ His voice dipped to that low, earthy note that always thrilled her. ‘Is to be with you and our baby.’
Thierry paused, his gaze meshing with hers. Imogen felt hope and excitement pound through her. ‘That’s going to be the most exciting adventure of my life. I wouldn’t miss it for anything.’ His thumb brushed her cheek.
‘I’ll give it all up, the treks, the business, whatever, if it means you’ll stay with me. I’ll move to Aus—’
Imogen put her hand to his lips. They were warm and soft, at odds with his harsh expression. ‘You’d do that? Give up all this?’
‘I love you, Imogen.’ His lips moved against her hand, his words balm to her aching heart. ‘All I want is to be with you. The rest is nothing.’
The château, the place in society, the birthright, were less precious than her?
‘Ah, mon coeur, don’t cry. Please, it breaks my heart.’
He leaned in to kiss the hot tears sliding down her cheeks, and she bit back a sob. Her heart felt too full, as if it were going to burst.
She clutched his shoulders, trying to reassure herself this was real. ‘You mean it?’
‘I’ve never been more serious about anything in my life.’ His expression was so solemn, so earnest. ‘Stay with me and I’ll prove it to you. No man could ever love you more than I do and one day, I hope, you’ll feel the same way about me.’
Fire caught Imogen’s throat as she smiled through her tears.
‘Not one day. Now.’
He stared blankly as if he couldn’t make sense of her words.
She slid her hands up to cup the back of his head, a quiver of excitement filling her at the knowledge dreams really did come true.
‘I’m in love with you, Thierry. I have been since Paris. Since that first night.’ She waited for his satisfied smile. Instead, she read shock then wonder on his proud features. ‘You swept me off my feet, my darling.’
He closed his eyes, murmuring something in French under his breath that sounded heartfelt and urgent. When he opened them again she caught the dark gleam of excitement she’d loved from the beginning.
‘You truly love me?’
She nodded. ‘Tha
t’s why I was so miserable, so ready to leave. I thought I could love you and live with you even though you didn’t return my feelings. But then—’
‘Then you thought I was a selfish, ungrateful brute who didn’t understand what a treasure I had in you.’
Suddenly he swooped her up in the air then deposited her on the window seat. Before she could catch her breath he knelt before her, drawing her hands into his.
‘Thierry? What are you doing?’
Midnight eyes held hers, and she couldn’t look away, for they were filled with love. The same love welling inside her.
‘Imogen, will you make me the happiest man in the world? Will you marry me and live with me for the rest of our lives?’
‘But we’re already married.’
‘I want to marry you again—properly this time. With us both giving our hearts. A marriage of love, not convenience.’
‘Oh, Thierry!’ She blinked back fresh tears.
‘You don’t like the idea?’ He frowned.
‘I love the idea! I can’t think of anything I’d like more.’
His loving smile, his tender kiss on her palm, told her he felt the same, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. ‘Women love shopping for wedding dresses and the trimmings for a big wedding.’
‘A big wedding?’ She pretended to pout. ‘What if I want to get married in a hot-air balloon or—’
His kiss stopped her words. When he pulled back he was grinning. ‘Whatever you want, mon coeur. Perhaps we could go somewhere more comfortable to discuss the options.’
Imogen felt that smile to the soles of her feet. ‘You have the best ideas, Thierry.’ She put her hand in his and let him draw her to her feet, knowing he was right. The future together would be the adventure of their lifetimes.
* * * * *
Also available in the ONE NIGHT WITH CONSEQUENCES series this month BOUND TO THE TUSCAN BILLIONAIRE by Susan Stephens
And look out for THE SHOCK CASSANO BABY by Andie Brock in May 2016.
Keep reading for an excerpt from CARRYING THE KING’S PRIDE by Jennifer Hayward.
