‘And you met him there?’
‘Yes. He spent a lot of time with me. I’m not much of a dancer, so we sat out on the terrace and talked. He—seemed to like all the things I did, but I realised later that Stephanie must have primed him. He phoned the next day, invited me to dinner. It was a wonderful two months,’ she added stiltedly. ‘We went everywhere together, and then he asked me to marry him. I suppose he—swept me off my feet.’
The arm that held her was like a band of iron.
‘Go on,’ Rome said tersely.
‘But although we spent all that time together, we weren’t lovers. Oh, he’d tried, but I—I suppose I wanted to wait until we were married. Then one evening, a few weeks before the wedding, we were having dinner at his flat, and it seemed silly to go on saying no.’
‘So, you went to bed with him?’
‘Yes.’ Her throat tightened uncontrollably. ‘I was incredibly naïve, but I just didn’t expect it to be like that—so painful and so—quick. I was in love with him, for God’s sake, and I didn’t feel a thing. I just wanted it to be over.
‘When we did it again, I tried to respond—to do what he wanted. I could sense he was disappointed, getting impatient, and that hurt in a different way.’ She paused. ‘After that I—pretended to be asleep.
‘When I woke up in the morning, he wasn’t there, and I supposed he’d gone off to make some coffee. I just wanted to leave—get back to my own place and have a shower. I—I felt dirty somehow—and confused. It was as if Rob had suddenly become a different person—and one I wasn’t sure I liked.
‘He had a phone extension beside his bed. I picked it up to phone for a cab and realised he was on the line in the living room—talking—laughing to some friend.
‘He said, “I tell you, man, bed’s going to be a nightmare. She hasn’t a bloody clue, and it’s like making love to a coathanger anyway. I’ll just have to keep my eyes shut and think of all that lovely money.”’
She felt Rome move swiftly and restively beside her. She risked a swift glance upwards and saw his face, bleak and set, his eyes staring in front of him as if fixed by some troubled inner vision.
She said, ‘For a moment I tried to pretend it wasn’t me he was talking about. I couldn’t believe he could be so cruel. I knew I hadn’t been—any good that night, but he’d told me that I’d learn—and it would get better.’
‘Then he lied.’ Rome’s voice was harsh. ‘It would never have been any better for you, Cory. Not with him.’
She said, ‘I realised for the first time that he’d never actually cared about me at all. That it had just been an act. I got dressed, and left. I could hardly bear to look at him, but I told him that it was all off. That there would be no wedding and I never wanted to see him or hear from him again.’
She shuddered. ‘He got so angry then, and started shouting at me. Telling me I was making a fool of him—of myself, and what made me think anyone else would ever want me, no matter how much money I had. I could hear him all the way down the corridor to the lift. People were opening their doors—staring at me. I—I wanted to die.
‘The wedding was cancelled. I told Gramps that I’d changed my mind, but I never told him why. I—I couldn’t. I’ve never told anyone—until now. Everyone—even my best friend—assumed he’d been unfaithful, and I let them think so. It was—less painful, somehow.’
There was silence, then Rome moved abruptly. Reaching for his robe, he said, ‘I need a drink. Can I get you one?’
She shook her head. ‘No—thanks.’ But her heart cried out, Don’t leave me—stay with me.
Even though she knew it was impossible, and that one day soon Rome would go from her life for ever.
Leaving her, she realised, a stifled sob rising in her throat, more bereft that Rob ever had, or could have.
Condemning her to spending the rest of her life alone—and lonely.
ROME closed the bedroom door carefully behind him and leaned against it, his breathing as hard and strained as if he’d taken part in some marathon.
Saying he wanted a drink had just been an excuse. Suddenly he’d needed to be on his own—to think. To come to terms with what he’d just heard. If he could…
He walked over to the French windows, opened them and gulped the chill rain-washed air into his lungs.
He felt nauseous—sick to his stomach. And dizzy with the kind of shame that no amount of alcohol could cure.
The decent thing, he knew, would be to get dressed and take Cory home before he did more harm.
She might be hurt, but that was inevitable. And it was nothing compared with the wound he would almost certainly inflict if they stayed together.
As he’d listened to her struggling with the quiet, halting story, he’d been possessed with a savage longing to seek out this unknown Rob and give him the beating of his life.
Except, as he’d suddenly realised, he was no better. For wasn’t he deceiving Cory just as viciously—and for money?
Cursing under his breath, he leaned against the doorframe, staring up at the scudding clouds.
He was caught in this trap, and there was no escape. Whatever he did, the end result would be the same.
He would lose her.
He wasn’t sure of the precise moment when she’d become essential to him, or how it had happened—or why.
He only knew that when he’d gone to her in the Gallery that morning it had been because he couldn’t keep away any longer. He’d been drawn to her, instinctively, involuntarily, knowing that he had to be with her, whatever the eventual cost.
He hadn’t, he thought wryly, even had a chance to fight it. In too deep before he knew it, and lost for ever.
Yet there was no way they could ever be together. This was the brutal reality he had to face. The anguish that twisted in his gut.
If he told her the truth she would turn from him in hurt and disgust. And even if he could prevail upon her by some miracle to trust him again he would have nothing to offer her. Because Montedoro—his home, his livelihood—would have gone. He would be starting again with bare hands, and he couldn’t ask any woman to share that kind of hardship, even if she were willing.
While if he simply continued with his grandfather’s plan, let the whole thing run its treacherous course, she would end up betrayed and—hating him.
But no more, he thought wearily, than he hated himself.
He stepped back into the room and closed the windows. He collected a bottle of mineral water from the bar, and two glasses, and took them back into the bedroom.
Cory had not moved. Her eyes were closed, but he knew she wasn’t asleep.
And she’d been crying. He could see the marks on her face, and felt the hard knot of reason inside him dissolve into an aching tenderness and, a heartbeat later, into a need that could not be denied any longer.
To hell with the right thing, he thought, shrugging off his robe, letting it drop to the carpet. They would have this one night together. A chance, perhaps, for him to undo the harm that Rob had done and prove to her that she was a woman both desirable and capable of desire.