Of course she knew there were people who hated Christmas, usually for specific reasons. It could be a stressful time, especially when your family life wasn’t great. And whatever Ms Tremall had meant all those years ago by a ‘bad home’ she suspected Jace’s family life might have been the opposite of great. But he didn’t sound as if he hated Christmas, just as if he were indifferent to it. Which somehow seemed even sadder.
‘But you must have celebrated it with your wife?’ she asked, her skin flushing a little at the boldness of the question.
She hadn’t meant to probe. She knew however curious she was about his past, she didn’t really have the right to ask him personal questions, but instead of clamming up as he had before, he simply leant back in his chair and studied her for a moment.
‘We weren’t married that long,’ he commented. ‘You know, if there’s something you want to ask me about my marriage, why don’t you just ask?’
Her skin heated. Had she been that obvious? Clearly, she had been if the implacable look in his eyes was anything to go by.
But despite feeling exposed, despite knowing she’d been caught asking something that was none of her business, and despite being certain that Jace’s offer to ask him about his marriage was disingenuous, the rapid ticks of Cassie’s heartbeat rose in her throat and she recalled the look in his ex-wife’s face five days ago. And admitted to herself that the naked pain in Helen’s gaze had niggled at the back of her mind ever since that day.
‘All right, I have got something to ask,’ she said softly, forcing the question out before she could stop herself. ‘Did you love Helen when you married her?’
‘DID I love her?’ Jace choked out a laugh, and wanted to kick himself for being so stupid.
Why had he opened himself up to this? He always kept things casual with women he slept with, and opening up the can of worms that was his marriage could get a little heavy. He should probably just lie. He’d done it before, because it had been the easy way out.
But somehow the earnestness in Cassie’s expression and the gently asked question made him hesitate. And then he really wanted to kick himself, because, however easy or convenient it was, he knew he couldn’t lie to her. Which was all wrapped up in watching her spend an hour devoting so much time and energy to getting presents for people he didn’t even know. He now knew just how sweet and genuine she really was—which meant it would probably be wise to let her know exactly the kind of man he was.
They had already agreed about the terms of their relationship, and that was great. But he’d seen the way she’d looked at him, knew that he was a first for her when it came to no-strings sex—and he didn’t want any confusion about what was really going on here.
‘No, I didn’t love her,’ he admitted flatly, careful not to put any inflection into his voice. The facts spoke for themselves. He watched the look of confusion cross her expressive face.
He could have added in his defence that as far as he was concerned there was no such thing as love. But once you said that, women had a bad habit of trying to persuade you otherwise. Or worse, find out why you thought that. Something he wasn’t about to get into. Because if the subject of his marriage was a can of worms he didn’t like prising open, the subject of his childhood was a whole barrel of them.
‘But if you didn’t love her, why did you marry her?’ she asked.
The delicious pastrami sandwich he had eaten sat in his stomach like a ball of lead.
He swallowed heavily and looked down at his plate. He probably should have expected the question, but it didn’t make it any easier to answer.
‘Her father provided the start-up investment for Artisan. He found out I’d been screwing Daddy’s little girl and gave me an ultimatum. Either I make an honest woman of her, or he was pulling the finance.’ He met her eyes as he said the words. He’d done what he had to do to get out. And okay, he’d made mistakes. Succumbing to Helen’s questionable charms being a whopper. But he’d paid the price for his stupidity and his lack of restraint. So why should he feel guilty about it now?
‘Basically, I married her for her father’s money. And not all that surprisingly, the marriage only lasted six months.’
Cassie didn’t look disgusted or even all that judgemental about what he’d told her, but annoyingly he still felt the need to justify his actions. Not something he’d ever done before. ‘Luckily, the company was a lot more successful. It was my ticket out and I took it. Whatever I did to get it was worth it.’
‘Your ticket out of what?’
‘Just out,’ he hedged. ‘It’s an expression,’ he added. He definitely wasn’t getting into that. ‘Anyway, Helen’s father died two months ago and left her his shares and his seat on the board of directors. Which is why I’m in London, selling the company.’
‘So you don’t have to deal with Helen?’ she said, making it sound like theirs had been a real marriage.
‘Nothing that dramatic. I can handle Helen fine,’ he said easily. ‘Unfortunately she has a problem handling me. Or rather leaving me alone. And anyway, it was time to let the company go. I was going to expand anyway. I’ve got more control if I start afresh, with a new board of directors. New designs. My own finance. And I can cut my ties to London for good.’
‘Did Helen know?’
‘Did Helen know what?’
‘That her father had forced you into the marriage?’
‘He didn’t exactly force me.’ He laughed, but heard the bitterness that he thought he’d got over years ago. ‘More like persuaded. There were no shotguns involved.’ He stretched back against the chair, glad to have steered the conversation away from anything too revealing. ‘But to answer your question, yeah, Helen knew,’ he said, thinking of the lies Helen had told her father, about how Jace had taken her virginity. ‘She was used to having Daddy get her what she wanted,’ he continued. No need to tell Cassie exactly how stupid he’d been—and railing against all the wrongs his ex-wife had done him had never been his style. His marriage hadn’t meant enough to him to make vilifying Helen all that worthwhile. ‘And for some unknown reason, she wanted my ring on her finger.’
‘She must have loved you,’ Cassie murmured.
He swigged the cool, clear water, astonished by how sincere she sounded. Did people really believe all that rubbish? But he could see by the forthright tilt of her chin, the conviction in her eyes, that she did.
Funny that her gullibility should seem enchanting though, rather than simply naive.
He jerked his shoulder. ‘Maybe.’ He didn’t care either way whether Helen had loved him or not.
What was a little disturbing, though, was realising that he did care what Cassie thought of him now she knew the truth.
‘Eat up,’ he said, nodding at Cassie’s sandwich, which she’d barely touched. He stood up. ‘I’ll go get us some coffee, then we can grab a cab.’
He wanted to get back to the hotel … where he knew lots of good ways to avoid any more dumb conversations about his past.
Cassie picked at her sandwich and watched Jace walk away.
He stopped at the diner’s retro counter, his shoulders stiff and unyielding as he spoke to the waitress. Taking her napkin out of her lap, Cassie folded it neatly over the remains of her meal as confusion made her stomach churn. What she’d learned about Jace and his marriage had killed her appetite completely.
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