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He shrugged away her comment with a nonchalance that said the idea had never really troubled him, even if it had crossed his mind. Seeing that gesture, Imogen was taken right back to the beach at Rondinarra on the penultimate day of her holiday, and the way he had already been running the relationship from one step removed, distancing himself from her even before her time on Corsica was up.
‘And now?’ he questioned, not really sounding at all interested.
That made her determined to give it to him with both barrels. Two years ago, his indifference had almost broken her. She was not going to let him hurt her that way ever again.
‘Now you’ve blundered in with both feet and ruined everything. There’s a wedding service and reception prepared for tomorrow—today. I’m supposed to be getting married and obviously now I’m not—and that’s all thanks to you. So what the hell am I supposed to do now?’
‘You could always marry me.’
‘Oh, now you’re being ridiculous!’
She stopped, stared, unable to believe the seriousness in his face. The black humour had been bad enough. This pretence that he meant it was too much.
‘You don’t—’ She stopped, confusion running across her features. ‘Why would you want to marry me?’
A lift of those powerful shoulders dismissed her question. He obviously believed she should know exactly what was behind the crazy suggestion.
‘For the same reason as Adnan would, I believe.’
‘To get the stud? Believe me, it’s not worth it.’
She’d blurted it out before she could think, and she realised it was a dangerous mistake as she watched his expression close up, golden eyes narrowing until they were just slits above his carved cheekbones.
‘Is that why Adnan was marrying you?’
It was like the pounce of a hunting tiger, launching himself at his prey. Her stomach knotted to think of what she’d revealed. He’d accused her of being a gold-digger once and now she had obviously just confirmed his dark thoughts.
‘I—Obviously, not! There was much more than that.’
Which was the truth, but only part of it.
At her side, Imogen’s fingers clamped against her thigh as she fought for the control she needed. The warmth of her own skin against her hand was a stinging reminder of the way she was dressed—or, rather, undressed. Just the thought had her reaching again for the edges of her robe, jerking them together unnecessarily.
‘There’s no need to worry.’ Raoul’s lazy drawl froze her jittery fingers as they closed over the belt, wanting to tighten it as much as she could. ‘Believe me, every inch of your body is hidden from prying eyes. Except perhaps your legs.’
That bronze gaze drifted down to where the red silk ended and her slender legs and feet were revealed. A carefully calculated moment of assessment and then his eyes came back up again fast, to clash with her own so fiercely she felt stars explode inside her thoughts.
‘But then, I have a very good imagination—and an exceptionally long memory.’
Imogen felt as if the room had tilted wildly, and she longed to lift her hands, to bury her burning face behind her palms, but she refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing how accurately his pointed remark had hit home.
She had never felt this nervous, this vulnerable, with Raoul in the past, even when she had been totally naked with him. Then, she had found a new and glorious sense of self-esteem to know that this stunning, powerful man who could have had his pick of any of the female holiday makers staying in the hotel had wanted her. She had been his from the start, lost in the wild fires of her first adult sexual passion. She still felt that way, just to be in the same room as him. As he’d said, she was adequately clothed, far more modestly covered than on any of the days when she had worn a bikini at the swimming pool; and yet she felt totally naked, brutally exposed, and sizzling in response to the dark power of the man on the other side of the room.
Adnan had never made her feel like this, even for a moment, she realised with a terrible sense of shock. It didn’t matter that he was a gorgeous man with the honed body of a professional sportsman from his days in competitive riding. She had always only felt the warmth and closeness of their friendship. Other women had felt very differently. She’d seen it in the green-eyed jealousy that she’d caught directed at her when their engagement had been announced. She’d also seen how her own sister’s eyes had widened when she’d first introduced her to her fiancé.
