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“The ones that you stole,” he interrupted caustically and Cass squeezed her eyes shut. Though she knew herself to be innocent, his denunciation was like a physical wound.
“They were heirlooms, weren’t they?”
“Yes.” His one word of agreement cut her like a knife. “They belonged to my great grandmother. They were the only thing she was able to save after the war.”
Cassandra felt guilt flood through her. She had known they were special to her stepmother, but she had never understood exactly why. She turned her head away, unable to look at him as she gave voice to her worst fear. “So sleeping with me, making me fall in love with you... that was to punish me.”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he continued to stare resolutely and silently ahead. The denial she had so desperately needed to hear did not come. When she turned to look at him, she saw a stranger’s face. Gone was Ben, her lover and care-free boyfriend, a man she would have trusted with her life
.
In his place sat Benedict Savarin. Real Estate tycoon, property mogul, cold-hearted businessman, implacable and uncaring. And her evil stepmother’s cousin.
CHAPTER TWO
It had been less than two hours since she’d stormed out, but how differently she viewed his penthouse now. Her face strained visibly as she looked around the luxurious accommodations with renewed perception. How had she let him put her off with the vague story that he ‘worked in property’, she wondered disbelievingly. She wanted to get a job working as an investigative journalist, and yet she’d blithely let her lust for this man dumb every sense but one. Where had her training gone?
His wealth and power was obvious to her now, from the blue-chip location of this building, to the enormous proportions of the two story penthouse with breath-taking views over Sydney Harbour. It hadn’t mattered to her that there were several bedrooms – she had only cared for one. The Jacuzzi, the pool, the kitchen and several entertaining areas had all sort of blended into the background, when this vibrant man was in front of her. Everything else was peripheral, like a foggy two dimensional world.
“Just where am I supposed to sleep?” She muttered, turning to face her captor. She hated the way the sight of him could turn her stomach into knots.
His grin as he let his gaze insolently drift over her figure made her toes curl. “There’s always my room.” He pointed out logically.
“Not on your life!” She snapped, forcing herself to ignore the strong flood of desire that washed over her.
“Last night was so ... memorable though.” He drawled.
Her violet eyes were awash with shock, her face drained of colour. “You can’t imagine I’ll ever touch you again?” She responded with less conviction than she’d hoped for.
His face suddenly sobered. “Relax, Lady Cassandra. I believe this turn of events has cured us both of our infatuation.” He placed her suitcase just inside the doorway of a spare bedroom. “I have no desire to renew our relationship. You are, after all, a thief and a liar, and a woman who has inflicted untold hurt on my only flesh and blood.” His dark eyes flashed with judgement and she turned from him, unable to bear the disappointment she saw on his face.
“You’ve known that about me for some time,” she pointed out hollowly. “Why didn’t you just tell me from the beginning that you knew who I was? Why string me along? Why put us both through this?”
“You said in the car that I must have done it for revenge,” he pointed out, conversationally.
She closed her eyes against the swell of pain and groped the back of a seat for support. “Well, you’ve succeeded. I hurt Alyssia, and you’ve hurt me. What’s to be gained by forcing me to stay here?” Her voice showed the painful wrench of emotion she was struggling to keep at bay.
He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he surveyed her pinched face. “You will see your father and Alyssia, and apologise to them for what you put them through.”
“I will do no such thing!” She retorted, her eyes lancing him furiously.
He pulled himself up to his full height of well over six feet and stared down his nose at her, like she was a piece of grit on the carpet.
“Have you no respect for the man who has loved you all your life?”
She bit down on her lip, guilt eroding her self-belief. “I- I kept in touch.”
“The odd email,” he snapped dismissively. “Alyssia told me. Do you know how much he’s spent on investigators? He’s been searching Spain for you, thanks to your lie-riddled communications.”
“No doubt he was keen to recover his precious wife’s jewellery.” She grunted with a dismissive wave of a slender hand.
“Amongst other things.” He confirmed with a nod of his head.
“I don’t have them.” She held her head up high. He already believed her to be a thief. No good could come from denying the charge.
Dark eyes glittered scathingly. “I didn’t think you would. No doubt you sold them for well under their value at the first available opportunity.” He crossed the room so that he was only inches from her. His face, up close, showed a barely contained rage. “And in less than a day, you can explain to Alyssia why you took them, and why you sold them. And then, you can damned well apologise for being such a spoilt little brat.”
She recoiled as if he’d slapped her, the vitriol in his statement making her feel nauseated. “I will do no such thing,” She answered, once she’d been able to steady her breathing.
