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Did she imagine the flicker of pleasure which lifted the corners of his lips and the glint of triumph which sparked in the depths of his green eyes?
‘A man who has never married is seen as something of a catch. As sexy and elusive,’ he murmured. ‘Unfortunately, it is not the same for a woman since she loses her appeal with each year that passes.’
It was a good thing she wasn’t still holding her glass of water because Emily honestly thought she might have hurled it at his patronising head. But at least his outrageous comment propelled her out of the numbness caused by his shock proposal of marriage. ‘Did you decide to throw all the feminist textbooks onto a bonfire of your own arrogance?’ she hissed at him, the serenity of her yoga pose forgotten. ‘Or are you just going out of your way to insult me—as I suspected from the beginning?’
‘Please don’t shoot the messenger. I am merely telling it how it is,’ he said calmly, with an expansive shrug of his broad, bare shoulders. He pillowed his ruffled black head back against crossed arms and studied her reflectively. ‘But if you were a divorcee,’ he mused, ‘and a rich one, to boot...that would immediately make you attractive to all kinds of men. Which means you’d have a lot more chance of finding yourself a suitable partner in the future.’
Even though she knew her reaction was deeply irrational, Emily found herself hurt by the things he was saying. But why shouldn’t he talk about her long-term future so objectively and with no role for him to play in it, when that was the reality? Yes, he’d had sex with her and, yes, he was offering her a bizarre kind of marriage—but he wasn’t doing it because he had feelings for her. And although she could see the undoubted benefits of him taking a temporary bride—hadn’t she suggested it herself?—she sensed he wasn’t telling her the whole story.
‘I’m getting a strong suspicion that your desire to bed me and wed me might be motivated more by revenge than a quest for respectability,’ she said slowly.
Alej almost smiled, until he reminded himself that her sometimes uncanny ability to read his mind was something he should be wary of. It was certainly nothing to admire. Yet her words rang true, didn’t they? A marriage of convenience would undoubtedly put paid to the rather tedious description of playboy, which always followed him around. But more than that, it would place her uniquely in his control. They would be living together and sleeping together. What greater opportunity would there be for him to have his delicious fill of her before casting her aside, as once she had done to him? ‘It is true that my feelings towards you are mixed, Emily.’
‘Because I was the only woman to have ever walked away?’ she guessed.
‘You think my ego overrides all other considerations?’
‘Possibly.’
‘I cannot deny your words and yet it is a little more...complex than that, querida.’ There was a pause. ‘You never really gave me a reason for your sudden change of mind, did you, Emily? You went from screaming ecstatically in my arms to condescending ice maiden within the space of hours. You walked away from me as if we were strangers who had just met. You gave me your virginity, then you told me that you didn’t love me and that you wanted other men. And you never really explained why.’
There was a pause while Emily’s mind spun with possibilities and she stared down at the swirly patterns on her trousers, unwilling to meet his piercing gaze. Surely it was best to just brush his question aside and leave the past where it should be. But then she wondered who she was trying to protect—surely not a man who had ruled her mother’s life with a rod of steel before leaving his stepdaughter a sick horse as a final mark of contempt. And wasn’t there a part of Emily which wanted to redeem herself in Alej’s eyes—who wanted him to stop looking at her with that thinly veiled scorn?
‘My stepfather threatened me,’ she said slowly as she lifted her gaze to his. ‘He told me he would never forgive me if I continued to see you.’
He gave a bitter laugh, shaking his head so that the dark waves of hair dangled around his neck. ‘And, of course, he was such a worthwhile individual that you desperately needed his approval? Forgive me if I don’t buy that, Emily, when I know how much you hated and feared him. Perhaps you were more concerned he would cut off all your money.’
She sucked in a deep breath as she lifted her gaze to him. Had she stupidly underestimated his intelligence? That he would just suck up any story she was prepared to give him? ‘No, you’re right. It wasn’t just that,’ she admitted and she swallowed the lump which had risen in her throat. ‘My mother begged me to listen to him and to do as he said, because he threatened to divorce her if I got involved with someone like you.’
‘Someone like me?’ he repeated. ‘What exactly does that mean?’
The lump in her throat wasn’t shifting but Emily knew she couldn’t avoid the question burning from his green eyes. ‘You were poor and had no father and that didn’t sit well with his inflated ideas of his place in society. My mother was terrified of what her life without him would be.’
‘Without his wealth, you mean?’ he suggested softly.
Emily bit her lip. No, not just his wealth—although that had obviously been a big attraction. But her mother had been one of those women for whom a life was not complete without a man. Her first husband had been poor and after being widowed, she had devoted all her energy to finding a rich replacement and, when she’d succeeded, had clung onto him like a limpet.
And didn’t it frighten Emily to think she might have inherited that sapping trait of mindless dependence? She’d been acutely aware of loving Alej back then, in a way which could never have been reciprocated—because what hope was there for a relationship between a man on the brink of a glittering international career and a teenager who was barely out of school? Wasn’t that another factor which had convinced her it would be better in the long run if she let him go, because that way she would avoid all the inevitable pain when he stopped caring about her? Once again, she dropped her gaze, not wanting him to see the fear in her eyes.
‘Something like that,’ she said.
Alej stiffened. She was lying about something, he just didn’t know what—lying in that smooth, natural way which came so easily to women. But, in a way, didn’t her duplicity bolster his intention to wed her? His mouth twisted. Wouldn’t it give him a kick to make a mockery out of the whole damned institution of marriage, while allowing him to enjoy legal sex with the woman who could turn him on like nobody else?
‘But they divorced anyway, didn’t they?’ he questioned.
She swallowed. ‘Yes.’
‘And your mother died soon afterwards?’
She paused for a moment, recounting the facts like bullet points—as if she was determined to avoid having to answer any more questions about it. ‘Yes. In a house fire. I was away at university and unable to visit her as often as I’d done before. She’d taken tranquillisers—more than usual—and obviously didn’t put out her cigarette properly. She didn’t hear the smoke alarm go off and by the time the fire brigade arrived, it was too late. They said she wouldn’t have known anything.’ For a long time afterwards she had been plagued by guilt. Guilt that she’d been unable to save her mother. And guilt at the relief she’d felt on being freed from the burden of care.
He spoke softly in Spanish, sympathising with her for her loss, and she inclined her head in acceptance.
‘Thank you,’ she said.
But
Alej did not allow the momentary air of reflection to detract him from his purpose as he forged on with his proposal. ‘Of course, if you married me—’
