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But whatever you think of me, you have to know the truth, now more than ever.
The circumstances of our marriage were unconventional to say the least. More relevant to you, though, my marriage was to a woman promised by her family and against her will to another and for that he swore that one day he would have his revenge against me, promising that he would one day steal any woman I intended to marry. And that is why, more than anything, I fear for your safety.
That man was Khaled.
Khaled? Revenge? Her gut clenched and cold tremors assailed her as the impact of Paolo’s words hit home. With not a thought to the prospect of creasing the dress, she let herself collapse into an armchair.
So Paolo had married the woman intended for Khaled—no wonder he had a vested interest in revealing Paolo’s secret.
But as to his suggestion that Khaled had chosen her because of her links with Paolo…It was crazy. They had never been officially betrothed—unless he had believed the speculation the magazines and gossip columns had spouted…that a link between successful international lawyer, Paolo Mancini, and up and-coming fashion designer, Sapphy Clemenger, was inevitable.
Was that what she was doing here? Had Khaled lured her here with the promise of a commission in order to ‘steal’ her from Paolo? It all seemed too incredible. It couldn’t be true.
But then, didn’t it make more sense than his assertion that he’d fallen in love with her from a photograph and set out to woo her?
She read on, feeling each new revelation like a body blow. Paulo had married Helene to save her from an arranged marriage to Khaled. The arrangement was to be in force only until Khaled found another wife. Then their marriage could be annulled and they would be free to continue with their lives and the relationships they chose. Neither of them expected that twelve years on Khaled would still be waiting, watching, casting the long shadow of his revenge over them.
What kind of bitterness made someone act that way?
No wonder Paolo had been frightened of commitment. No wonder he had pulled away from talk of marriage and the future. He had no choice. Words blurred on the page as tears pricked her eyes at the sacrifice he’d made for a friend, the sacrifice that had cheated him for twelve years of any chance of love.
She blinked the moisture away, clearing her vision enough to allow her to read the final paragraphs.
Sapphy, bella, perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps the fact that Khaled told you of my marriage is evidence that he’s over the past and ready to put it behind him. Maybe it means nothing to him any more. I sincerely hope so.
I know things didn’t work out between us and I hope you can start to understand some of the reasons why it was so difficult for me to be honest with you, but I do care for you, Sapphy, I care for you immensely. So please, I beg of you, be careful in your dealings with Khaled. Don’t take anything at face value as he has a score to settle with me and I am afraid he will stop at nothing to do it.
Her insides were gutted, totally empty, her heart a black empty chasm pulling wider apart with every breath. Her legs lashed out as she kicked off her heels, reading the paragraphs again, tucking her legs underneath her on the chair, curling tighter and tighter into a ball.
Over the past? Not a chance. Khaled hadn’t used his information in the spirit of forgiveness, he hadn’t shared it with her over a drink and a laugh for old times’ sake. He’d used it as a weapon against Paolo, its barbs designed to dig deep and twist and bury his nemesis completely.
As for stopping at nothing—hadn’t he told her he loved her? What was that if not just one more attempt to prevent her leaving and ensure the success of his plan?
She let the pages fall to her lap and hugged herself, her breath jerky, her sobs strangely silent, unable to make a sound because there was absolutely nothing left inside.
Nothing—except anger. Into the shell where her heart once resided white-hot anger rushed in on a tidal wave—foaming and crashing, filling the space and gaps, its heat fed with the oxygen from every breath she took.
Khaled had played her for a fool all along. But no longer. Her hands formed into fists and she sprang from the chair, energised by the sudden rush of emotion, letting the pages scatter on the floor.
She had to get this dress off. It was a dress for a bride to wear when she wedded the man of her dreams. She’d been kidding herself that she could ever be that bride. She’d been kidding herself that there would ever be a real wedding. Her dream had turned into a nightmare.
Her hands had tackled only the first of the pearl buttons when behind her someone tapped on the door. She swivelled in time to see the door swing open and suddenly he was there.
