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He took a breath, his face grim.
‘If she doesn’t find a graceful way to break up with Roxburgh I’ll have no choice but to warn him myself, for his own sake, because it will finish his career otherwise. I don’t want to—God knows I don’t!’ His eyes hardened. ‘Madeline knew perfectly well when she told me about her past that I wouldn’t publicise her method of capital formation! But where she miscalculated, of course—’ and now his expression changed yet again, becoming for the first time clearer, as if a weight had stopped crushing down on him ‘—was in thinking that I would share her tolerance towards her method.’
He looked at Celeste again.
‘I left her flat that evening—walked out on her. My decision to end our affair, and for that reason...annoyed...her. She did her best to get me back...’
Into his head sprang the image of Madeline, stretched naked and voluptuous on his bed, taunting him not to desire her any more...refusing to accept his rejection of her...of what she had done...what she was...
He spoke again, willing Celeste to believe him. ‘I hope with all my heart you can believe that there is no power on earth that could ever, ever induce me to tolerate her again! I wouldn’t touch Madeline with surgical gloves on!’ he spelt out. His voice iced. ‘Or any woman like her!’
She could hear the contempt in his voice, the disgust. The total revulsion.
She pulled her eyes away, her gaze going towards the wide windows that opened out to the terrace beyond. She opened her mouth to say something, then stopped.
Rafael’s cell phone was ringing. With a curse, he glanced at the number, then answered it.
‘No, I haven’t forgotten. I’ll be there.’ He disconnected, reached out a hand to Celeste.
‘I am really gutted to do this, but I’ve got to go,’ he told her. ‘That was my PA, reminding me I have to be downtown in half an hour. I’d get out of the meeting if I could, but this guy is flying out to SF this evening.’
He bent to drop a kiss on Celeste’s head. She was still looking like a ghost, and he hated to leave her like this, but in a way, although the scene with Madeline had been ugly in the extreme, surely it must have convinced her that Madeline Walters was out of his life for ever.
‘Are you going to be OK?’ he asked, concerned. Celeste nodded, and he spoke reassuringly. ‘I’ll be back as soon as I can, but it probably won’t be till about seven. Let’s have a really easy night in—I think we both deserve it!’
He smiled encouragingly, squeezing her nerveless hand again.
‘And, please, don’t waste another single thought on Madeline. She isn’t worth it. She isn’t worth anything—no woman like her is.’ He glanced at his watch and swore. ‘Damn—I have to go.’
He crossed to the door. Looked back at her. Felt emotion pour through him.
Thank God I’ve got Celeste! Thank God she is in my life—thank God!
How much she meant to him! How very, very much...
I never want to lose her...
Then, tearing himself away, he left the apartment.
Behind him, on the sofa, Celeste went on sitting. Inside, knives with the sharpest blades were slicing her into pieces.
* * *
Though his meeting had gone well, Rafael had spent it itching for it to be over. He wanted to get shot of work, shot of his office and back to Celeste. He’d texted her when he’d got downtown—something warm and reassuring—but hadn’t heard back. Now, as he finished running through his agenda for the following day, prior to finally getting out of his office to head home, he checked his mobile again.
His head lifted—there was a text from Celeste. He clicked it open. As he read, his spirits nosedived. He read it twice through, but it was still the same.
