He ignored that. What was there to say? He’d been in the right. She’d been in the wrong, so far in the wrong he’d known a moment of red-hot fury when violence would have been a welcome outlet. Lucky for Poppy Graham he was a civilised man. Some men wouldn’t have walked away as he had. Some would have taken revenge for what she’d done.
Having her at his beck and call for a couple of weeks while he recuperated hardly counted.
‘Have you changed, Poppy?’ This time when he spoke her name the word emerged crisp and clear, yet he tasted the echo of it on his tongue, sweet as wild raspberries but with a tang of disappointment.
How was it that after all this time she had the power to make him feel?
It must be some residual weakness after his ordeal in the wilderness.
‘Of course I’ve changed.’ He heard her long stride across the floor as she paced. ‘I’m not twenty-three any more. I’m my own woman, self-reliant, secure and capable.’
‘You were always self-reliant,’ he murmured. ‘You never needed anyone, did you, Poppy? Except on your own terms.’ He heard her hiss of breath. ‘You used people for what you could get. Is that still your style?’
‘You’re a fine one to talk! When did you ever give or share?’ Orsino heard her jagged breath and knew intense satisfaction that he wasn’t the only one feeling.
‘I remember giving all the time.’ He breathed deep. ‘Money, the prestige and connections you were so hungry for …’
Silence met his accusation. He waited, but she didn’t break it.
So, in one thing at least she’d changed. Once she’d been ruled by passion, as impetuous in her defence as in everything else. Now she knew when to give up. What was the point arguing the unwinnable?
Orsino frowned, fighting a disappointment he couldn’t explain.
‘Obviously you don’t want me here.’ Her voice sounded guarded and, if he hadn’t known it impossible, defeated. ‘The hospital made a mistake contacting me.’
He shook his head, wishing yet again that he could see her face. The strength of his need to see her stunned him.
‘No mistake. But they were a little too prompt. You’re not needed quite yet.’
‘Needed? You don’t need me.’
Orsino heard the shock in her voice and didn’t bother hiding his smile. Maybe it was shallow of him but after all this time, after what she’d done, it felt good to have her exactly where he wanted her.
‘But when I leave hospital I will. Who else should look after me as I recuperate but my wife?’
‘WIFE?’ POPPY’S VOICE ROSE. ‘You’re kidding!’
But looking at his satisfied smile she had a dreadful feeling Orsino wasn’t joking. There were new lines around his mouth, grim lines that hadn’t been there when she’d known him. They spoke of rock-hard determination. And pain.
She blinked as her heart squeezed. How bad were his injuries? He still hadn’t told her. Those bandaged eyes …
Poppy pulled herself up. Did she seriously think she could read Orsino when so much of his face was swathed in bandages?
He was a stranger now. He’d severed any connection.
‘Why should I kid?’
It was there in his voice now, that smugness. As if he enjoyed her reaction, knowing her discomfort. The realisation made her shiver.
Orsino had been hard, unreasonable and unforgiving. But spinning out a painful situation hadn’t been his style. He’d preferred to walk away, leaving her bereft.
Had he changed?
‘Because I’m not your wife. You can’t want me nursing you.’
‘It won’t be full-time nursing. I expect to manage once the bandages come off.’ Was that a hint of doubt in his voice? But he was talking again, distracting her from the fleeting impression. ‘I’ll only need someone on hand to be sure. That’s where you come in.’
‘As I said, Orsino, I’m not your wife. It won’t be me caring for you. Ask someone else.’
Then a horrible thought struck. Had his head injury affected his memory? Didn’t he recall what had happened between them? Poppy swayed. The possibility of brain damage was too much on top of exhaustion.
‘Of course you’re my wife. You never filed for divorce.’ He paused. ‘Why is that, Poppy? Because there was still publicity to be milked from my name?’
His icy tone grazed her skin, making her shudder.
Relief battered her, and anger. No memory loss after all. Orsino recalled everything. And still blamed her.
Poppy stiffened her backbone, setting her jaw and telling herself she’d been a fool to think he’d ever be glad to see her.
She didn’t want this man in her life. She was glad to be rid of him.
Yet his question rang in her ears. Why hadn’t she divorced him?
‘You didn’t file for divorce, either.’ Poppy stopped, hating how scratchy and thin her voice sounded, revealing her turmoil. She breathed deep, clasping her hands before her. They trembled.
Orsino had always made her feel too deeply.
Time hadn’t cauterised the wounds at all. She’d just pretended it had. That knowledge scared her as nothing had in years.
‘Our marriage ended when you walked out.’ Though it had taken her far longer to realise it. The memory of her desperate hopes and frantic phone calls, all unanswered, made her itch with embarrassment.
‘When I walked out? Talk about selective memory!’ Orsino shook his head. ‘There’s no mistake. I gave the hospital your name.’
Poppy blinked owlishly at the man before her. He’d orchestrated this?
She darted a glance towards the door. Why stay and let him manipulate her?
Yet something welded her to the spot. Pity for his injuries? Better that than the alternative, that somewhere, deep down, she still cared. That she didn’t want to leave till she found out how badly he was hurt and whether he’d see again.
‘You had no business giving them my name.’
He shrugged and Poppy hated herself for noticing the way his broad shoulders moved against the white bed linen, as if she were some love-struck teenager, transfixed by his athletic physique.
Been there, got the T-shirt, over it now.
If only she believed it. The thread of unexpected heat twisting deep inside belied her certainty.
‘The hospital needed my next of kin. That’s you, Poppy. It has been ever since we left that registry office together.’
She shook her head. ‘What about Lucca? What about Lucilla? You’ve got all those brothers and sisters. Plus your father. Any one of them—’
‘They’re all tied up at the moment. Besides, by law you’re my next of kin.’
‘And you thought I wouldn’t be busy?’ Her hands slipped to her hips as anger hiked. ‘Unlike you, I have to work for my living. I’m in the middle of a photo shoot. I can’t simply drop everything to nurse you.’
‘But you just did, didn’t you?’ His words