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Everything she was turned out to be a lie.
‘A lie how?’
He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘You’re still upset? Too upset to talk about it?’
‘No, it just serves no purpose,’ he said with a shrug. ‘I have learned again and again that people who lie don’t get second chances.’
‘How did she lie to you?’ Tilly pushed, her heart hammering painfully in her chest, guilt at her own deception becoming a maze she needed to find her way out of.
‘You really want to know?’
Tilly nodded, but panic was weighing her down.
‘We had been seeing each other for nearly a year. I was busy. My business was taking off and, while I liked her, and even thought myself on the way to being in love with her, I had no real plans for her to be a serious or permanent part of my life.’
He looked towards the ocean, catching the glistening sun as it bounced off the sea.
‘Marina perhaps began to sense this and, concerned, took matters into her own hands.’
‘How?’
His smile was grim. ‘By faking a pregnancy.’
Tilly froze, the look on her face pure shock. ‘She did what?’
‘Mmm...’ he agreed. ‘Very poor form, no?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘She knew I would propose. And I would have. But too much didn’t add up and eventually she confessed. She was very apologetic—and I understood, to some extent. Marina grew up with everything she ever wanted landing in her lap. She wanted me, and my reluctance to commit was not something she was willing to accept.’
‘But to lie about being pregnant...’ Tilly said angrily.
‘Si. It was very foolish. I ended our relationship the day I found out and I have not spoken to her since.’ His look was loaded with dark emotion. ‘I do not invite betrayal twice.’
A shiver ran down her spine and her own predicament swirled through her like a raging tsunami. The imperative to get through to Cressida was growing by the moment, suffocating her with urgency. She had to fix this somehow.
‘I don’t like to think about you with other women,’ she said, but the words were difficult to find in her brain and they came out sounding forced and strange.
She didn’t miss the look of intense speculation on his face. ‘Jealous?’
Tilly was more than jealous. She was...devastated.
She needed time and space to process this. She sipped the wine he’d topped up automatically, desperate to blot the pain from her mind.
‘It’s not like my social life is quiet.’
‘And, again, when you say “social life” you mean sex life?’ he clarified.
She was Cressida—in that moment, at least.
‘Sure. Yeah. You know—sex is sex,’ she said, with an attempt at a blasé flick of her wrist. ‘Speaking of which...’ She leaned forward, placing her hand over his. ‘Can we go back to the island now?’
His eyes lanced her. But when he stood and took her hand it was with pure, sensual determination.
This was happening.
