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‘Maybe she was going

to come back later, when she was settled somewhere,’ she said haltingly. ‘Nobody would want to take a child away from its home.’

‘That might depend on the child.’ His face was contorted; he sounded drained, defeated.

‘She took my sister, so maybe she only really wanted a daughter.’

Daisy breathed in sharply. Suddenly it all made sense.

Thinking back to their first meeting in his office, she felt her stomach clench. He’d been angry—rightfully so, considering he’d just caught her breaking into his office—and she’d assumed his fury would dissipate. But she’d been wrong. Instead it had stayed constant, dark and churning beneath the surface, swift to rise up. And accompanied by a resistance—a refusal to let slip the mask he wore...that hard, smooth golden mask of absolute control.

And now she understood why.

He didn’t trust anyone. He didn’t believe in love or believe he was worthy of loving. That was why he was scared to commit and care—and why he’d arranged to marry a stranger.

Pain skewered her heart. She stared at him in silence, knowing, feeling, loving him. All of him. Especially his angry teenage self. She loved that Rollo as much as, if not more than, the gilded billionaire.

Desperately she searched for something to say—some words that would take the pain from his eyes and the aching misery from his voice. Words that would explain his mother’s actions and make him feel better about himself.

But sometimes actions spoke louder than words. And, wrapping her arms around his neck, she kissed him gently.

CHAPTER TEN

SHIFTING BACK IN his seat, Rollo gazed down at his desk, his green eyes narrowing as they focused on the dossier in front of him. Pictured on the smooth, laminated cover was the building of his dreams. It had always been out of his reach, either through lack of finance or lately because of James Dunmore’s persistent and frustrating refusal to sell. But, undeterred by the obstacles in his path, he had pursued it relentlessly. And now, the final hurdle was in sight.

Leaning forward, he ran his hand over his company’s logo and breathed out softly. Tomorrow he would meet with Dunmore at his Hamptons home to discuss the sale. It was nothing short of a miracle.

And it was all down to Daisy.

Without her he would still be struggling with his image as a serial philanderer. But now his legendary lack of commitment had been rebooted—rebranded as merely the symptom of a man desperately seeking that one special woman with whom to share his life.

As far as everyone was concerned—particularly Dunmore—that woman was Daisy.

Only he knew better.

He knew it was a sham.

Or that was what it was supposed to be.

Lately though, the distinction between reality and pretence felt increasingly hazy and obscure.

He frowned. At first he’d assumed it was a consequence of cohabitation. Now though, his assumption that he could enforce any kind of boundary seemed naive, laughable. Not only had Daisy sneaked past every barrier he’d built between himself and the world, but the devastating sexual attraction they shared had effectively eroded the line between their private and public relationship.

A muscle twitched in his jaw. And now he was losing control of more than just his body. He’d never discussed his private life with anyone before, much less his past. Yet yesterday, with Daisy, he’d turned into some kind of talk-show guest. He’d told her everything—every humiliating little detail.

And she’d listened to each and every word as though it mattered. As though he mattered. And the fact that she’d done that blew his mind almost as much as her admission that he no longer needed to blackmail her into staying. Given how he’d treated her, it was more than he deserved.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He’d been so ruthless—callously exploiting her love for David to get his own way. What kind of man would do that? And how would he feel if someone treated Rosamund with such contempt and disregard?

His chest grew tight.

He’d buried the pain of the past for so many years, but now all of a sudden he couldn’t stop thinking about his mother and sister. Picturing Rosamund, her eyes widening with delight as he pushed her on the swing, he gritted his teeth. His anger had made it easy to concentrate on the bad but it was much harder to brush aside happy memories.

However thinking about the past was pointless. There was nothing he could do to change it. The only change that mattered right now was the fact that finally Dunmore was willing to talk terms.

Pushing back his chair, he picked up the dossier and walked purposefully across his office. Every step was bringing him closer to keeping his promise. He should be feeling excited...elated.

And yet all he could think about was what would happen afterwards.

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