Читать книгу Not Fit for a King? - Jane Porter - Страница 11

HANNAH sank into the nearest chair after Zale left, heart racing so fast she felt like throwing up. For a long moment she couldn’t think, too rattled by the intense confrontation with Zale to do anything but process what had just taken place.

He’d been so angry. And his anger had felt personal. As if he was disgusted with her.

Why?

Why would delaying the meeting upset him so much? She hadn’t said she wouldn’t sign it. She hadn’t asked for changes. She’d just asked for time. But it seemed as if time wasn’t something Zale was prepared to give her.

And then she remembered something he’d said, spitting the words at her as if they’d hurt his mouth—I should have known the games weren’t over.

Then he’d added something about her raising the stakes, holding out for millions, because that’s how she played.

How she played?

He was the one who had burst into her room, temper blazing, words coldly mocking.

I did not mean to appear insensitive. Your health is my first concern. Everything else can wait.

Liar! He didn’t mean a word of it. He’d totally meant to be insensitive. He’d been deliberately rude.

From the moment he’d entered her suite he’d shown absolutely no concern for her health. Instead he’d bullied her. Tried to intimidate her. Accused her of playing games.

Who did he think he was, treating a woman like that?

Livid, Hannah chased after Zale, catching up with him as he descended the grand staircase. “Your Majesty, I’d like a word with you,” she said sharply, stopping him midstep.

He slowly turned to look up at her, his straight eyebrow lifted in surprise. “Your head seems to be much better.”

“It’s not,” she answered shortly, cheeks flushed, body shaking with tension, “and you owe me an apology. You were unforgivably rude.”

“I was rude?”

“And cruel. You should be ashamed of yourself! I can’t believe that’s how your parents raised you.”

Color darkened his cheekbones and his eyes glittered with anger. “I could say the same for you. Engaged to me and yet playing the field—”

“How dare you!”

“Save me the theatrics. I know, Emmeline. I know the truth.” “What truth?”

“I know why you were in Palm Beach. I know what you were doing there—”

“Attending fashion shows and dinners and a charity polo match.”

“God, you’re good,” he said, moving back up the stairs with that stealthy animal grace that made her pulse leap and heart beat too fast. “Charity polo match! That’s wonderful. Cling to your story. Keep to the facts, right?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t go there,” Zale said, joining her at the top of the stairs, and his sheer size and intensity overwhelmed her. She didn’t like how he towered over her. Didn’t like that she had to tip her head back to see his expression. Being this close made her feel alarmingly vulnerable.

“What does that mean?” she demanded fiercely, her heart racing, her pulse unsteady.

“Emmeline, I know. I know why you were in Palm Beach. I know you went to meet him. I know you spent every free moment in Florida you could with him.”

Hannah inhaled hard, stunned. Couldn’t be … Emmeline couldn’t have been with someone else when she was engaged to the King Patek … could she?

“No,” she whispered, not wanting to believe it, not wanting to imagine that beautiful, charming Emmeline d’Arcy would be unfaithful. “That’s not true.”

“Don’t add insult to injury! It’s bad enough you were seeing him throughout our engagement, but don’t lie to me, too. You were seen together—constantly—mutual friends were concerned enough to phone and let me know.”

Hannah felt cold. His ugly, hurtful words made her sick. “What friends?” she murmured faintly, horrified that this was the kind of relationship Zale and Emmeline had. How could they marry when they mistrusted each other so? When they had so many secrets? Where was the warmth? And respect?

“Does it matter which friends?” he answered wearily, his expression shuttered. “Because it’s the truth. You were with Alejandro every moment you could spare. I wasn’t even sure you’d get on the plane to come here.”

Hannah laced and unlaced her fingers, heartsick.

That’s why Emmeline had wanted Hannah to switch places with her? She’d wanted more time with her lover. No. No, couldn’t be …

Was Emmeline that cold? That calculating?

Hannah shook her head, confused, betrayed and wished with all her heart she’d never started this terrible charade. She’d thought it was an innocent prank, pretending to be Emmeline for a few hours, but instead there was so much more at stake.

Countries. Kingdoms.

A man’s self-respect.

Hannah’s eyes burned and she had to look away to cling to her control. “I’m sorry,” she said, thinking the words didn’t mean much because they’d change nothing. Emmeline still wasn’t here. Hannah was pretending to be someone she wasn’t. And the charade continued, making Zale Patek the fool.

Her father would be so ashamed if he saw her now. He’d raised her to be strong, independent and true.

True.

But oh, she wasn’t being honest now. She was anything but. And Zale deserved better.