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‘Don’t be.’
She lifted her chin and he saw the sheen of tears in her eyes. ‘We said no more lies, remember? I don’t think there’s any point in my staying now, do you?’
In the silence that followed her question, her hurt was palpable. But what could he say? Yes, I want you to stay so we can keep on having sex?
With an effort, he shook his head, and after a moment, she said quietly, ‘If you really don’t want the business then I’ll sign it back over to my father.’ When he didn’t respond, she gave him a small, sad smile. ‘I’ll go and pack.’
He watched her walk upstairs. He’d never known a feeling like this—not even when his mother had called to tell him his father had died. His heart was like a living, struggling creature trapped inside his chest.
Only what choice did he have? He couldn’t do to her what he had done to his father. He couldn’t be responsible for her love. Nor was he worthy of it. Not when he was so flawed, so imperfect, so bound to mess up.
CHAPTER TEN
‘GREAT PARTY, VICÈ!’
Vicè turned, flicking on his hundred-kilowatt smile automatically as the pop-star-turned-actress who was standing in front of him tilted her head in provocation.
‘Thanks, Renée—and congratulations on the nomination.’ He raised the glass of champagne he was holding. ‘There’s a bottle of Cristal at the bar with your name on it.’
‘Care to come and share it with me?’ she invited, her mane of auburn hair falling into her eyes and the hem of her shimmering red minidress riding high on her thighs as she pouted up at him. ‘We could have our own private party.’
His pulse accelerated. She was beautiful, willing, and she had booked a suite, and yet...
He shook his head slowly, pretending regret. ‘I need to make sure this party keeps rolling, Renée.’
He had never been too hung up dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s, but mixing business and pleasure was one rule that should never be broken, no matter how much pleasure was being promised.
His chest tightened.
What a load of sanctimonious drivel!
He liked Renée—she was sweet—but he wasn’t going to sleep with her, whatever the circumstances. There was only one woman he wanted, and he had let her slip through his fingers just over five weeks ago.
His mouth twisted. Actually, he’d driven her to the airport.
Way to go, Vicè. Drive the woman you love to the airport and wave her off.
His heart was suddenly thumping so hard against his ribs he was surprised the shock waves didn’t shatter the glass he was holding.
He loved her?
For a moment he turned over his words in his mind, waiting for the denial that would surely follow. Instead, though, the echo grew louder, rebounding and filling his head.
He loved her.
But of course he did.
Only he had pushed her away rather than admit it to himself. Or to her. And now she was gone. And he was going to have to live without her in an agonising charade of his own making for the rest of his life.
‘Sorry, Renée. I didn’t mean to sound so pompous.’ Holding up his hand, he tapped the ring on his finger. ‘It’s just that I’m missing my wife.’
A flush of colour spread over her face. ‘I’m sorry... I didn’t know you were—’
‘It’s fine.’ He pasted a smile on his face. ‘Look, you have a great night.’
‘You too, Vicè.’
She blew him a kiss from her bee-stung mouth and he watched her sashay off on her towering heels.
