Читать книгу Modern Romance January 2017 Books 5 - 8 - Мишель Смарт, Andie Brock - Страница 11
ОглавлениеTHE PRIVATE JET Xander had chartered for her circled St Francis’s small airport. Elizabeth gripped the hand rest. It wasn’t fear of landing that made her knuckles whiten but fear of what the evening would bring.
She’d had one night to dream up something inventive to get out of it; family emergency, car accident, diabetic coma... She’d rejected every one of them.
When all was said and done, this was her job. Her services were discreet and known only to a select few, but those select few inhabited their own world. All it would take was one whisper of unprofessionalism or unreliability and the reputation she’d spent eight years building up would be smashed down.
The Xander she’d known didn’t exist. All she knew of the real Xander was his reputation, and that was of a man who didn’t suffer fools. If he had any affection left for her he wouldn’t have insisted they meet at St Francis.
She’d loved him once, with the whole of her heart. The morning she’d packed her suitcase full of excitement at the thought of flying to Diadonus, the island he lived on, to meet his family and begin their new life together, he’d pulled the rug out from under her. He’d told her that he’d made a mistake; that he didn’t love her, his family would hate her and he’d be returning to Diadonus alone.
Her lungs and stomach contracted into balls as the pain of that moment hit her afresh. But she would give anything to live it again, so she could keep her composure and not have his last memory of her being one where she could hardly breathe through the tears.
In their short time together on this island she would show nothing but her professional face. She would be polite and friendly. She would treat him exactly as she would any other client. She would smile and pretend he wasn’t a lying cheat who’d broken her heart.
The jet landed smoothly but that didn’t stop the nausea increasing. She hadn’t been this nervous since she’d walked out of her home and into the big wide world alone and unsupported.
The early evening sun still blazed over the pristine airport, casting the ground and small white terminal in a golden haze. She stepped off the jet, holding tightly to her carry-on case, purse and laptop bag. After the freezing New York temperatures, the warmth was welcome.
Before she’d travelled to St Francis, Elizabeth had never left the States, had hardly left New York. Then her granny had died and left some money for her only grandchild, her will stipulating clearly that she wanted Elizabeth to use some of it ‘to get out of this darn country and see something of the world’.
Her granny would be delighted to know Elizabeth’s work took her all over the world. And of all the places she’d been, this exclusive Caribbean island remained in her mind as the most beautiful place on earth...but the memory was tainted. It was as if the fine white sand had become tiny shards of glass and the clear blue Caribbean Sea, so enticing and welcoming, filled with poison.
An official in a golf buggy greeted her, gave her passport a cursory glance and whisked her off to the car park.
A rugged black four-by-four gleamed beside the terminal wall. At their approach, the driver got out, the setting sun enveloping him in the same haze as the surroundings.
Her heart leapt and her throat closed. It was Xander.
He strode towards her, his long legs covered by a pair of tan chinos, a short-sleeved pale blue shirt stretched across his honed torso, the brown hair she remembered as rumpled now cropped with a slight quiff at the front.
Her grip on her case tightened. He reached them, nodded at the driver and then fixed the sparkling blue eyes she’d once gazed into without blinking for what had seemed like hours on her...
Her insides turned to jelly. From deep in her chest a swell erupted; that awful need to burst into tears and sob. Where it came from she didn’t know, but she controlled it. She’d known this wouldn’t be easy and, she told herself, this would be the worst of it. That first time seeing and speaking to him again. That was always going to be the worst part and no amount of preparation could mitigate it.
‘Elizabeth,’ he said by way of greeting, stretching out a hand.
She’d always loved how he pronounced her name. Her mother always affected an English accent when she said it. Her father always addressed her as Lizzy but she suspected that had always been to needle her mother. From Xander’s wide, generous mouth, her name rolled like a caress.
There was nothing wide or generous about his mouth now, fixed as it was in a tight line.
Plastering the brightest, most toothsome smile she could muster to her face, she released her hold on the case and accepted his hand. ‘It’s great to see you again.’
His lips curved into a taut smile. ‘You’re looking well.’
‘Thank you.’ Still holding his hand, she used it for support to climb out of the golf buggy, pretending that every inch of her skin hadn’t started dancing at his touch.
He was as tall as she remembered but the years had given an added hardness to his physique and he’d gained an overall edginess she didn’t remember from before. The sparkle that had always been in his eyes was muted and faint lines had appeared on his face, yet somehow he was even better looking than he’d been a decade ago.
So gorgeous had he been that when he’d approached her on her arrival at La Maison Blanc Hotel and insisted on helping her with her luggage, she’d assumed he worked for the hotel. In hindsight, that he’d been wearing a pair of swim shorts and had had a towel slung over his shoulder should have been a giveaway that he was a guest rather than a hotel porter. That, and the fact the other porters had been wearing navy blue uniforms, right down to the silly hats they were forced to wear. Xander’s brown hair had been damp from a swim in the sea.
It had taken her a good ten minutes—enough time to check in and find her room—before she’d realised the drop-dead gorgeous young man with the infectious smile, sparkling blue eyes and a deep rich accent to die for wasn’t an employee but a fellow guest, and that he was helping her because he was interested in her. In her!
They’d arranged to meet at the pool bar an hour later. By the time she’d unpacked and changed she’d convinced herself she’d dreamt him up. But there he had been, exactly where he’d promised. Two cocktails later and she’d learned he was Greek, twenty years old, and a single traveller like herself. Dreamer that she was, she’d been convinced fate had brought them together.
‘Is this everything you’ve brought with you?’ Xander asked, taking in the physical changes time had brought on his wife. He’d known she would have changed over the years but he hadn’t expected it to be quite so profound.
Ten years ago she’d had the rounded features of a young woman. Now she was leaner, her cheekbones more defined. Large dark glasses stopped him seeing her eyes but she had a polish to her, a sophistication far removed from the wide-eyed ingénue who had captured his attention from the very first glance. That Elizabeth had been a fresh-faced open book.
This Elizabeth, the rampant curls he remembered straightened and glossed into long, tumbling waves, was professional and collected. She was dressed in slim-fitting dark grey jeans with studs across the pockets, and a fitted white shirt, which together emphasised her litheness. She could be anywhere, at a semiformal business meeting or out with friends for lunch. She was the perfect chameleon. Her looks were too striking for people not to look twice at her but she would fit in perfectly wherever she happened to be.
He carried her case to his Jeep. Elizabeth easily kept pace with him. He’d forgotten how long her legs were, and lengthened further by a pair of simple yet sexy black heels.
She was sexy. The way she carried herself. Her confidence. She was dazzling.
He pulled the passenger door open and waited until she’d taken her seat before closing it. Through the slight breeze he caught her delicate scent, which put the frangipani and butterfly jasmine St Francis was famed for to shame.
‘I’ve booked us a table at a restaurant on LuLu Beach,’ he said as he drove them out of the small airport, which mostly consisted of a landing strip and a pristine white hut. St Francis was one of the smaller Caribbean islands and had a colourful beauty that was world renowned. Not for nothing was it known as a honeymooner’s paradise.
He’d chosen St Francis for a myriad reasons. It hadn’t occurred to him that being on the island again would unsettle him so much. Sitting next to Elizabeth only unsettled him further, something he should have anticipated.
‘Sounds good,’ she said in the same easy tone she’d greeted him with. Yet, despite her friendliness, he detected a frost around her.
He could be imagining it, he supposed, but he doubted it. Meeting an ex wasn’t normally a big deal but what he and Elizabeth had shared had been different from all his other relationships.
His honesty when he’d left her had verged on brutal but he’d known it was necessary. If he’d strung it out it would have hurt her a lot more.
Had she kept quiet about their annulment’s failure as a means of punishing him; to make a bigamist of him if he’d married again? Had she spent a decade quietly biding her time for revenge?
Or did she genuinely not know they were still married?
He would learn the truth soon enough. Either way, a clean break had been the right thing to do and he had no regrets on that front. He’d disconnected the call from his mother and looked at the woman he’d married five days before and understood what a terrible mistake he’d made. His world was cut-throat and ruthless. If a woman raised in it like Ana couldn’t cope, what chance would a dreamer like Elizabeth have? She would never have been accepted or fitted into it.
It wasn’t long before they arrived at the LuLu Beach restaurant.
A waitress led them out to the terrace and to a table overlooking the beach. They sat opposite each other, both getting a good view of the tranquil surf lapping at the fine white sand like a loving puppy.
‘Water for me,’ Elizabeth said when asked what she wanted to drink.
‘Water?’ Xander queried.
‘Water.’
He shrugged and turned to the waitress. ‘One water and one bottle of beer.’
Once they were alone again he openly studied Elizabeth. The setting sun made the honey of her hair look like spun gold. ‘You look as though life has treated you well.’
He wished she would take those damned sunglasses off so he could see her eyes and gauge what she was really thinking. The sun was now set so low its glare reflected directly off them.
* * *
‘Thanks.’ Elizabeth resisted the urge to say she knew life had been treating him well. After all, Xander’s life had been all over the news and Internet for weeks.
She took a breath to calm the unexpected rage shooting through her.
Xander was her client and her clients’ private lives were none of her concern. The salacious stories about the other three men hadn’t bothered her in the slightest and she would not allow the burn that ravaged her brain whenever she imagined Xander acting out some of the described racier acts to cloud her judgement or control her emotions.
She’d thought she was prepared for this and for seeing him again but the racing of her heart and the dampness of her palms proved it to be a lie. She could have had a month to prepare and she still wouldn’t have been ready.
The waitress returned with their drinks then pulled her notepad out to take their food order. Elizabeth ordered the Yellowfin Tuna Tartare appetiser. She wasn’t hungry but it would be good to have something to nibble on, a distraction. Like most of the restaurants on the island, LuLu’s menu was a mixture of French and Creole. She’d adored the fusion when she’d been here before. She’d actively avoided both since. She’d avoided anything that would bring the memories back.
‘Why did you want to meet here?’ she asked, glad the sun was still strong enough to warrant keeping her shades on. She’d read once the eyes were the gateway to one’s true emotions. She couldn’t bear to think of Xander looking into hers and seeing the pain all the bittersweet memories were evoking.
‘It bothers you?’
‘It bothers my pride. I have no issue finding a life partner for you but I do think you could have shown some sensitivity and chosen somewhere neutral for us to meet.’
‘I don’t require a life partner. I require a wife.’
‘Is that not the same thing?’
‘A life partner suggests permanency. I only need a temporary wife.’
Removing her professional notebook from her bag, Elizabeth wrote ‘temporary marriage’ in it and circled it so heavily the nib of her pen bent.
Determined as she was to keep things on a professional footing, she couldn’t help but say, ‘Using your ex-wife to find you a new wife is one thing, but conducting the preliminary interview on the very island we met and married screams insensitive jerk to me. You have the money and resources to travel anywhere your heart desires so why here? Was it to rub my nose in it?’
When she finally looked at him, he was staring at her with a look she couldn’t interpret.
‘I had a number of reasons.’
She forced herself to remain poised. If he wanted to play mind games he could play them on his own. She was here to do a job and nothing else. ‘Tell me what kind of woman you have in mind to marry. Are there any turn-offs I need to avoid, like smokers or bearded ladies?’
Or five-foot-eight blondes with a pedigree your mother wouldn’t approve of.
She wished she had a chain-smoker with the world’s worst halitosis on her books to fix him up with.
Elizabeth waited for him to answer but his gaze remained on her, the same unfathomable expression on his gorgeous face.
Uncertainty crept up her spine. The way he was looking at her...
He took a swig of his beer then set the bottle steadily on the table.
‘I don’t need you to find me a wife, Elizabeth. I already have one.’ He leaned forward and lowered his voice. ‘There is no easy way for me to say this but you’re still my wife. Our marriage was never annulled. We’re still married.’
* * *
Xander watched the blood drain from Elizabeth’s face.
Long moments passed before she gave a quick shake of her head and finally removed her shades.
The dazzling amber eyes Xander had never forgotten finally met his, flecks of gold and red firing at him, disbelief resonating. Not even a professional actress could fake shock that well. It put the last of his doubts to rest. She hadn’t known.
Although the compression in his chest loosened a little at this, it made no difference to how things needed to proceed.
‘Elizabeth?’
Her throat moved. Her words came out in a croak. ‘Our marriage was annulled.’
‘Our annulment was rejected by the judge at the last hurdle.’
Blinking rapidly, she put her sunglasses back on and pushed them up to sit atop her head. ‘You’re not joking, are you?’
He shook his head and watched her slump in her chair.
She inhaled heavily. ‘I don’t get it.’
Xander had a two-week heads up on it and he still didn’t understand. ‘Did you ever receive official confirmation?’
Her eyes were wide and bewildered before she put her elbows on the table and rubbed at her forehead. ‘I received confirmation of the paperwork. I remember that. I remember it saying it would be rubber-stamped within a month, or whatever the time frame was.’ She looked back at him. ‘It was ten years ago. I don’t remember all the details.’
‘But you don’t remember receiving the official annulment?’
‘I...’ She slumped some more. ‘I moved out.’
‘Moved out from where?’
‘My mother’s. I left home soon after I received the confirmation letter. Mom was supposed to forward all my mail to me but she didn’t. I ended up having to redirect it myself.’ She straightened and let out a forced shaky laugh, muttering, ‘I can’t believe her.’
Their marriage had been too short-lived to get to the ‘meet the parent’ stage. They’d both been so wrapped up in each other they’d hardly spoken of their families. All he’d known of hers was that her parents were divorced and she was an only child. She’d taken a vacation to St Francis on the back of an inheritance she’d received from her paternal grandmother.
Elizabeth shook her head, trying to clear it of all the noise crowding in it. She felt as if she could explode. She shoved her chair back and got to her feet. ‘I need to walk.’
He stayed seated, a set look on his handsome face, his blue eyes turning to steel as they held hers. ‘You can walk later. Right now we need to talk.’
Her stomach clenched and there was a moment she feared she would bring up the morsel of food she’d managed to eat since their phone call the evening before.
Being with Xander again was a thousand times harder than she’d imagined and learning they were still married...
It wasn’t possible. It wasn’t.
Yet somehow it was.
Swallowing a ragged breath, she sat back down heavily.
The sun had almost set, its orange crescent gleaming over the horizon, the sky a deep blue shining with stars peeking out and waving at them. Such a beautiful sight and one that felt sacrilegious with all the turmoil Xander had just thrown her into.
Their food was brought to them. Xander had ordered monkfish fillets. The delicious scent from it turned her stomach.
Elizabeth looked at her tuna tartare, beautifully presented with an avocado salad, and knew she wouldn’t be able to manage even a bite of it.
‘Why was the annulment denied?’ she asked, trying frantically to get a grip on herself.
‘The judge determined there were “no unknown facts from either party” and that “no law had been broken” so there was nothing to justify it.’
‘But we were only married for five days.’
He sighed. ‘Another judge would probably have rubber-stamped it without any issue. We were unlucky that ours landed on the desk of a judge who took issue with it. We’ll never know his real reasons why—he passed away four years ago. How did you not know the annulment was declined?’
‘I never received the letter.’ Her mother had probably thrown it away unopened in a fit of pique.
‘You’ve already said that, but why didn’t you chase it? It seems strange that you didn’t call or do something to find out where the confirmation was.’
‘The same could be said for you,’ she retorted, removing her gaze from the sunset to look at him. ‘Didn’t you think you would receive something too?’
‘Hardly. I live on the other side of the world. You said you would handle it. As I recall, you insisted.’
‘How long have you known?’ she asked tightly.
‘Just over two weeks.’
She clenched her fists to stop herself from lashing out at him. ‘You’ve waited that long to tell me?’
‘I was trying to work out the best way forward. I only looked into it because I was hoping to bury the annulment so the press wouldn’t find out.’
‘Why would you do that?’
‘The press are digging into every aspect of my life. I knew it would only be a matter of time before they stumbled onto it. I thought it best to bury it completely before they found it and used it as additional ammunition to hit me with. My family don’t know about us...’
‘You never got round to telling them? What a surprise.’ She didn’t bother hiding her sarcasm. My family will never approve of or accept you.
She hadn’t told her own family either but that had been for entirely different reasons. She hadn’t been ashamed of Xander. She’d just been too humiliated and heartbroken to speak of it. She couldn’t have endured hearing her mother’s condemnation and her father’s fake concern on top, then the fights as they tried to find ways to blame the other for it. Because it was always about them, never about her.
‘Things are hard for us at the moment without having to deal with all the press intrusion,’ he said.
‘Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?’ He’d been engaged to another woman. He’d used her and lied to her and then dumped her in the cruellest way possible.
‘You’re not supposed to feel anything. I’m just telling you how it is.’
‘But you had to fly me all this way to tell me? You could have told me in New York—you could have told me anywhere. It seems particularly cruel to bring me to the island we were married on just to discuss our divorce. Well, you have nothing to worry about. I have more to lose than you if our marriage comes out and I want it buried just as much as you...’
‘If I wanted a divorce I would have been in touch two weeks ago.’
Shaking off the fresh dread crawling up her spine at his words, Elizabeth said tightly, ‘You went through the court records specifically to bury our marriage.’
‘That was my original intention,’ he agreed easily although his eyes remained hard. ‘Learning we were still married changed things.’
The dread had lodged into her throat, suffocating her vocal cords so all she could do was plead with her eyes. Don’t say it. Whatever you do, don’t say it.
‘I need us to rekindle our marriage.’
