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‘He wanted to know if I know where she is. The man is falling apart,’ he said, sounding not too unhappy about this.

‘And do you? Know where she is?’

He rolled his neck, as if to the relieve the tension lying in his broad shoulders. ‘Yes.’

‘But you wouldn’t tell him.’

He produced a wry smile and shook his head. ‘I’d pay good money to see him crawl to beg her to come back...bare foot and hot coals involved in the equation works for me too....but I gave my word. And it will do him good to think she is with another man...which of course he does, because he judges everyone by his own particularly low standards.’ He sneered, his mouth thinning in contempt. ‘I’m not claiming mine are high, but at least I have enough self-awareness to recognise the traits I share with the bastard. I might have screwed around, but at least I never hurt anyone doing it.’

Despite the headlines about him, she realised that it was true—if he used women, they used him right back. And who could blame them? she thought, her eyes drifting to his irresistible mouth.

‘Is that why you never got married?’ she blurted, hastily averting her eyes.

In the act of running his finger around his collar, he paused, an expression she could not interpret sliding across his face as the silence stretched so long she thought he was not going to respond.

‘In that way at least I differ from my father. I know I’m selfish, but I’d never put a woman Ihalf-liked, let alone one I professed to love, through the sort of humiliation my mother has suffered.’

‘You married me,’ she said in a small voice.

He jolted in his seat, a look of contrition spreading across his face. ‘Oh, Tilda, I...’

She gave a brittle little laugh. ‘Oh, don’t be daft, it’s fine. I know our marriage is not the same and, heavens,lovedoesn’t come into it.’ She laughed again, ignoring the bleakness that had invaded her heart...Think about that later.

Or maybe not. Some things were better left.

Aware of his forensic scrutiny, she painted a look onto her face that suggested curiosity rather than hurt feelings. ‘So where is your mother? Or am I not in the need-to-know loop?’ He seemed to juggle a lot of loops; perhaps his right hand actuallydidn’tknow what his left was doing, though she knew better. He had a mind like a steel trap and, to use a chess analogy her brother would approve of, he was always thinking three moves ahead.

‘She’s taken an apartment in Paris and had enrolled on a post-graduate degree in Fine Art at the Sorbonne. I hope she does meet someone who appreciates her.’ He sank his head into the leather head support and turned to look at her.

‘I am not enough of a bastard to spend my wedding day on the phone to my lover.’ But bastard enough to know that was what she had been thinking, he thought, self-disgust tightening like a fist in his belly at the recognition. And he’d let her carry on thinking it, just because he didn’t like explaining himself to anyone.

‘I was getting mad,’ she admitted. ‘It seemed...rude.’ She wasn’t asking for much, but basic good manners seemed a not unreasonable ask to her.

‘It seemed...rude...’ he echoed with a half-smile, thinking that her mouth was not made for looking prim. The attempt was sexy, though. ‘How will I cope in the office without you to tell me when I’m out of line?’

Her emerald eyes flew wide. ‘I... I never did, I just...’

‘Suggested it...?’

‘Subtly.’

One corner of his mouth lifted but his eyes... The expression glittering deep in the obsidian depths made her think of his mouth feathering across her lips... As the thought progressed, her breathing grew faster and shorter before she literally shook it away and pushed out a breathy observation. ‘You know you’re going to have to turn your phone on, don’t you?’

‘I know. I might block my father, though.’

‘Ezio, you can’t do that! What if there was an emergency?’

Ezio snorted, his fingers tapping the wooden arm-rest impatiently. ‘This traffic is...’ As he was speaking, the traffic started to move.

‘It heard you and got scared.’

A half-smile glimmered as he leaned back into his seat and, loosening the knot on his silk tie, stretched his legs out.

‘Lucky we settled on pre-wedding photos; it’s really bucketing down now.’

Tilda flashed him a look and was tempted to point out thatshehadn’t decided on anything, but she didn’t want to break the little lull in tension they were enjoying.

He patted his pocket and pulled out her new glasses. ‘I forgot... You need these?’

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