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‘I’d say it was a mistake. You want love. We know that’s something I don’t do.’
The words sliced to the heart of her, sharp and true, as she was certain they were meant to.
‘You’ll never—’No. She wouldn’t let that voice intrude again. Sara ignored his words and focused on how he’d treated her, his actions. He’d been so kind, protective. Passionate. All he’d done for her over the weeks she’d been here told her that Lance felt something for her. But she suspected he didn’t believe he was a good man, that he was capable of softer feelings.
‘Are you sure? Some things here felt very much like love to me.’
‘That’s sex. Which has nothing to do with love.’
‘But what we have—’
‘Is chemistry. You’ve confused that with something deeper. So let me be explicit...’
He was disavowing her. Her mouth dried, her heart pounding frantically in her chest.
‘Don’t. Don’t demean this. Us.’
He raised an eyebrow, his expression disdainful. As if she were a silly little girl who needed educating. ‘I’d never demean sex. I’m an enthusiastic supporter, as you must have learned. But sex with a person is like your favourite meal. You might love it, but eat too much and you’ll get bored eventually, and want to try something different.’
The impact couldn’t have been worse if he’d taken a rapier and sliced her off at the knees.
‘You’re...bored of me?’
‘You’re an intelligent, charming young woman, but...’ He shrugged her off as if she were nothing.
‘You’ll never have his heart.’
Of course. She’d been a fool to think this had meant anything. She took a deep breath, battling the burn in the back of her nose, the prickle in her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. Not with all his wicked ancestors witnessing her misery.
‘I thought...’ She let the words trail off because she was really talking to herself. Lance didn’t care. All along he’d treated this like a huge game, when she’d thought he was trying to make her smile, to chase away her sadness. Instead, he was probably mocking her. And, like with Ferdinand, she’d ignored the truth, hoping and dreaming that this could be something more, when she’d been nothing but a few moments’ entertainment for a bored rich man.
He swept his arm wide. ‘Yes, all of this gallery is filled with shysters and conmen who encouraged people to think and dream things they shouldn’t. But, if you remember correctly, I never encouraged you with any false hopes.’
No, he hadn’t. He hadn’t encouraged her at all. He’d never whispered quiet words of love as he’d worshipped her body. He’d made no promises for the future. And she’d fooled herself into believing things because she was desperate for love. The trap she’d told herself she wouldn’t fall into again.
‘And now for my trip,’ he said, and all she wanted to do was scream at him to be quiet, put her hands over her ears because she didn’t want to hear any more.
‘Please feel free to stay here for as long as you choose. I’m unlikely to be returning in the near future. My home is usually in London, after all.’ Sara barely heard the words. They’d made love this morning, and now this? ‘Astill’s Auctions will pay the commission on your finds and will provide you with introductions to some of the finest auction houses in Europe, if you wish to find a job at any of them.’
Her humiliation was complete. He was paying her off like someone cheap and disposable. She wouldn’t take it. She couldn’t.
‘I don’t want your money, or your help.’
Lance flinched, before settling back into his cool, businesslike demeanour.
‘It’s what you deserve.’ Money. Not love.Neverlove. ‘You’re exceptional at what you do.’
Sara couldn’t let him see how much this hurt. How it wounded her to her soul. Deeply, irrevocably. She’d known the first moment she’d set eyes on him that he was trouble. Yet she’d sought him out, chased it. Well, she was reaping the tainted rewards of their liaison now. She looked down at her finger, to the opal there.Beautiful and complex.It burned, as if taunting her with what might have been. She wanted to tear it off. Instead, she carefully slipped it from her finger.
‘You should have your ring back.’ She held it out. He merely clasped his hands behind his back, staring at the exquisite piece as if it meant nothing at all.
‘Keep it. If I were truly getting engaged I would have given my fiancée the Astill Amethyst.’
She felt like a fool now, standing there with the ring in her fingers, as if begging him to take it. She’d beg for nothing from a man ever again. She clenched the jewel in the palm of her hand when all she wanted to do was hurl it at him. But it represented something precious, a fleeting moment when she’dbelievedshe was worthy. She wouldn’t treat it with the disdain he’d shown her...
‘I don’tneedit. I want nothing of yours. I can make my own way.’
‘That, I don’t doubt.’
