Читать книгу Love Islands…The Collection - Ким Лоренс, Jane Porter - Страница 34

IT WAS LATE afternoon in Caracas. Staring out over the city from the balcony of Malachi’s suite, Addie let the straps of her camisole slip down over her shoulders to catch some sun.

Two hands slid around her waist. ‘Afternoon, sleepyhead.’

Her heart started to pound as Malachi kissed her shoulder, his lips drifting languidly down over her throat.

‘You were sleeping so deeply I thought I was going to have to wake you with a kiss,’ he murmured.

The hands round her waist were beginning to drift too, slipping under the silk camisole, circling and caressing the bare skin of her belly, then reaching up to stroke her breasts, caressing her nipples until she was shaking with desire.

Unable to stop herself, she moaned softly and she felt his body stiffen, his fingers stilling.

‘You did that earlier,’ she said hoarsely. ‘That’s why I was so tired.’

His hands were moving again, sliding slowly over skin.

‘In that case I think you should lie down right now,’ he said, and, gently he dragged her back into the suite and onto the huge bed.

Later, feeling warm and dazed, she lay beside him, watching him devour the brunch that had been delivered. As he pushed the last forkful of eggs Benedict into his mouth, she gave him a mischievous smile and started clapping.

Draining his coffee cup, he grinned, eyes gleaming. ‘I was hungry. And you want me to keep my strength up, don’t you?’

Remembering their feverish lovemaking, she felt a melting heat ripple out from somewhere deep inside. Yes, she did. Only ‘want’ seemed too feeble a word to describe how fiercely she craved him.

‘I’ll try to be less demanding tonight,’ she said lightly. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready?’

Rolling onto her side, she watched him get dressed. His pale grey shirt was still unbuttoned to the waist and she stared hungrily at the smooth, flat muscles of his stomach. Even half dressed, and with his hair still damp from the shower, there was a glamour to him that set him apart from other people, turned heads. It wasn’t just his looks. It was something to do with that air of detachment, of being alone in a crowd.

Thinking back to his parents’ party, she felt a rush of protectiveness. It was no wonder he had chosen to stay alone, or that he found it so difficult to let people get close to him. But he was changing. Look at how he had opened up to her last night. It might not have been his whole life story, but it had been a brief glimpse into what had made him the man he was. And it was the first time he had ever even hinted that he might need her. And surely with need came love?

She glanced up, her heart aching. She longed to tell him that she loved him but she knew it was too soon. She had barely come to terms with how she felt. If she sprung her feelings on Malachi it would be disastrous. Like trying to put a head collar on a wild mustang. She needed to follow her own advice and be patient. But there was nothing to stop her from showing she cared.

Trying to keep her face as casual as possible, she sat up, pulling the sheet over her breasts. ‘How are you feeling?’

Stepping away from the wardrobe, he turned to face her, frowning. ‘Fine. A little tired.’ The corners of his mouth curled upwards.

She smiled back at him, then hesitated. ‘I actually meant how are you feeling about last night?’

He was still smiling, but the smile was set and still. After a moment he shrugged. ‘That’s fine too.’

Turning away, he reached into the wardrobe and she stared at his back uncertainly. Was that it? Last night he had seemed so desperate, so tormented. But it was clear that as far as he was concerned the conversation was over.

‘Which one?’ He held out two ties for inspection. ‘Or do you not like either of them?’

Pushing aside her thoughts, she looked up at him and frowned. ‘What’s it for again?’

He held her gaze. ‘It’s a meeting with the mayor and the council members.’

‘The blue one, then.’

‘I like the red one.’

‘Then wear the red one.’ Stretching out her legs on top of the sheet, she smiled up at him innocently, her eyes dancing. ‘If you don’t mind looking like a gigolo.’

He raised an eyebrow. ‘A gigolo?’

She bit her lip. ‘Maybe you could wear some of those nice stacked shoes we saw in that shop.

His eyes had narrowed and he was moving slowly towards the bed like a predatory animal. ‘Anything else?’

‘A manbag?’ She gave a shriek of laughter as he grabbed hold of her leg and pulled her down the bed towards him, pinning her arms above her head.

‘A manbag...’ he repeated slowly, his eyes roving over her naked body. ‘I’m not sure if I really see myself with one of those. But you might be right about the tie. In fact, I think you might look better wearing it.’

Too late, she read the intent in his eyes. ‘No, Malachi—you can’t!’

‘Oh, but I can,’ he said softly, and the heat in his gaze would have stripped the clothes from her skin if she hadn’t already been naked.

With deliberate slowness he twisted the tie around her wrists and pulled it over the elaborate gilded bedstead, knotting it with one practised hand. Twisting, Addie tried to pull her hands free, but she simply managed to tighten her bonds.

‘There,’ he said softly, letting go of her wrists. ‘I knew it would look better on you.’

He stared down at her, eyes dark with passion and unwavering, and she felt a hot ache spread out over her skin.

‘You can’t leave me tied up here, Malachi,’ she said quickly, trying to push aside the thought that in all probability he could. ‘What about when the maids come to clean the suite?’

He smiled, a long, slow smile. ‘I’ll tell them to leave it until tomorrow.’

‘Malachi! Untie me.’

‘What will you give me if I do?’

‘You need to worry about what I’ll give if you don’t! Now, untie me!’ She stared up at him, torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to give him a black eye.

He grinned. ‘Is that right? I’m not sure you’re in any position to be issuing threats here, sweetheart.’ He sighed. ‘However, fortunately for you, life has taught me that there is one absolute unbreakable rule when it comes to staying in hotels.’

He tugged at the knot and she slipped her wrists free.

‘And that is, don’t do anything to upset the housekeeping staff.’

She punched him gently. ‘So letting me go has nothing to do with my persuasive charms, then?’

His eyes were still tinged with passion, but softer now. ‘Believe me, you’re very persuasive, sweetheart, but—’ Grimacing, he sat up and twitched the sheet over her naked body. ‘I have got to go to this meeting.’ Seeing her expression, he shook his head. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I’d love to get out of this but I can’t.’

His hand moved over the sheet, following the contours of her breasts and belly, and she felt her skin grow warm and tingling.

‘You can find out what that feels like later.’ Eyes glittering, he stood up. ‘I’ll even let you choose the tie.’

After he’d left, Addie spent a relaxing two hours in the hotel spa, having a facial and full-body massage. Malachi had left a message telling her that he had arranged for Lupita, a personal stylist, to come to their suite, and she arrived promptly, with several rails of beautiful clothes, an array of shoes and a box of jewellery that came with an armed bodyguard.

It was exhausting, but enormous fun. Lupita not only seemed to have met everyone who was anyone in Caracas, she was also talented at her job, knowing exactly which outfits would make Addie look and feel good.

Finally having made her choice, all that remained was to get ready.

Smoothing foundation over her skin, she stared at her reflection critically.

It was lucky that people could only see what was on the outside. And she was a lot less nervous about meeting Malachi’s guests than she had been about finally coming face-to-face with his parents.

She applied mascara, blinked and reapplied it.

But being nervous had some advantages. At least it meant she could hardly think straight. Certainly not about what everyone would be saying about her tonight. It had been different at the masked party. Everyone there had been hiding who they were. But tonight there would be reporters and photographers, and Malachi would be looking to generate as much publicity as possible for the opening of his first casino in South America.

Her heart gave a jolt of hope. But what did that mean for her? She knew what she wanted it to mean. She wanted to forget the past—forget this stupid deal and be his wife again.

But it was so much more complicated than that.

Thankfully her hairdresser chose that moment to arrive, and she was able to push aside her troubling thoughts.

An hour later Addie breathed out in relief as the young woman styling her hair stepped back and smiled.

‘You look very beautiful, Ms Farrell.’

Turning her head from side to side, Addie stared into the mirror with pleasure. She had decided, on Lupita’s advice, to put her hair up in a French pleat. It was not something she had ever done before, preferring the simplicity of a ponytail for work or a low chignon for more dressy occasions. But now she was glad she had followed the stylist’s advice.

‘Thank you!’ She smiled up at the hairdresser.

The girl looked pleased. ‘I think Mr King will be very happy,’ she said shyly.

Addie took another quick glance at herself. Hopefully he would. She would soon find out.

Staring round the casino floor, Malachi felt a rush of satisfaction. The building had been derelict when he’d first seen it. Originally an opera house, it had been abandoned after a fire had damaged most of the stage, and then it had simply been left to decay. Only he had seen its potential. Not as an opera house. The capital city of Venezuela already had one of those. But as a casino.

It had taken six months just to clear the site and make it safe to work in. Another year to rebuild the interior and bring it up to modern health and safety standards. Then another five months painstakingly recreating the original gilded domed ceiling and setting up the casino floor.

His vision had been clear. No cool, contemporary chic. He had wanted old-style glamour. Gilt and glass and glitter. And it had been worth it, he thought triumphantly. It looked incredible: a gilded, show-stopping interior that mixed fin-de-siècle opulence with an unmistakable whiff of the forbidden and decadent.

And yet there was something that didn’t feel quite right. Some detail he had overlooked. Something was missing, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it...

The next moment his uncertainty was forgotten as yet another swathe of local VIPs stepped forward to offer their congratulations. Twenty minutes later, though, he was staring round the room again, the famous King smile in place, while his brain clicked through the evening’s schedule, looking for glitches.

Only there was nothing out of place. Frowning, he glanced up at one of the boxes he’d insisted be kept during the refurbishment, and caught a flash of red hair, a glimpse of long leg and felt his chest tighten.

Addie! She was here.

He was shocked by how happy that made him feel—happy then stunned as he realised that she had been what was missing. Abruptly his elation faded as the woman turned and waved excitedly at a friend in the crowd. It was not Addie. And her hair wasn’t even red. He must have been hallucinating! Seeing what he wanted to see.

His words echoed inside his head and he felt a momentary flicker of unease. Did he really want to see her that badly?

Eyes narrowing, he gazed across the room. There were so many beautiful women here tonight. Why was he obsessing over Addie when he could just pluck one of them out from the crowd?

Because he didn’t want just any woman. He wanted Addie.

His heart began to thump. But it was inevitable really, he reassured himself. He’d been spending so much time with her that he’d got used to having her around. And with her glorious red hair and beautiful curving body she was there for a very specific reason. To stand out—to be seen by his side. Together they would be the most dazzling, the most desired couple in the room.

He frowned. But where the hell was she?

And then he saw her.

And this time there could be no mistake.

She was standing at the top of the wide, curving staircase that led down to the main casino floor, the two bodyguards he had assigned to protect her on either side of her.

Caught beneath a pool of light, she looked beautiful. More than beautiful, he thought dazedly. She looked like a goddess. Her heels were black and high but her dress was dark red and short, with long sleeves. It clung to her curves as though she had been sewn into it.

But as she stared down into the crowded casino he felt her hesitation, saw the uncertainty in her eyes. He was moving even before he realised he was doing so—striding across the room and up the stairs.

She saw him just as he reached her side, her ruby and diamond earrings catching the light as she turned to greet him.

He stared at her, his heart in his throat. Up close, she looked even more stunning. Her long hair was swept up, revealing her slim neck and flawless face, and suddenly he couldn’t stand it any more. He had to touch her. More than touch—he wanted to lay claim to her.

Reaching out, he took her hand and drew her slowly towards him. ‘You look beautiful, sweetheart. I think you should keep these.’ Gently he touched her earrings. ‘And that dress looks divine on you.’

She smiled then, her uncertainty fading, and it was as though they were alone; around them the swarming mass of people melted away.

‘Thank you. I wasn’t sure about the length. But I think covering my arms balances out my legs.’

He nodded. He had no idea what she was talking about. Just looking at her was throwing him off balance. ‘I agree. Or I would if I knew what you meant.’

She pinched his hand. ‘There are rules, you know. About clothing.’

His eyes gleamed. ‘Has this got something to do with the tie—?’

‘Malachi!’ She glanced nervously over her shoulder, her body twisting, and suddenly he was too jolted to breathe, let alone speak.

Cut low and draped at the back, whatever rules she had been talking about, that dress was breaking all of them. His eyes bumped down the curve of her spine, his blood thickening and slowing, his thoughts a heaving mass of yearning, unfocused desire.

Trying to bring order back to the chaotic disarray of his body and mind, he dragged his eyes away from the smooth, golden temptation of her bare skin and gestured at a passing waiter.

‘Here!’ Back in control once more, he handed her a fluted glass of champagne. ‘Let’s go and mingle. There are some people I want you to meet.’

The rest of the evening was a blur of people and names. Addie felt as if she was floating. Beside her, one of the bodyguards held up a protective arm as guests spilled past them and she glanced up at him dazedly.

Bodyguard! When had she become the sort of person who needed a bodyguard?

The thought made her head spin. But then it was spinning anyway. She was so nervous she had barely even registered the gorgeous over-the-top decor—in fact, she’d been aware of very little except the sidelong glances that had followed her and Malachi as they made their way around the room, his hand resting casually on her back.

‘They’re all looking at us,’ she’d whispered as he’d led her through the crowd.

‘They’re not,’ he had whispered back. ‘They’re looking at you.’

But of course they hadn’t been.

It was Malachi who was the object of their curious and admiring attention. He was the reason the hum of conversation tailed off. The reason men stood taller, waiters moved with even more swift efficiency and women—

She breathed in sharply. All the women were in his fan club, if the furtive, hungry expressions on their faces were anything to go by.

But of course they were. He was devastatingly handsome—and in a dinner jacket at his most desirable, with the stark contrast of black and white emphasising his flawless bone structure and restless grey eyes. Moreover, it was his night—his name on a thousand lips.

And she was the woman holding his arm. His wife.

Except that at no point had Malachi made that clear to anyone. Her heart began to pound. Just who was she supposed to be tonight? And was everyone else thinking the same thing?

Malachi stared across the casino floor, struggling to adjust his thoughts. Normally on an evening like this he would have been acting on autopilot: smiling, chatting, working the room. But tonight he just couldn’t seem to concentrate. Not with Addie so close to him, the bare skin of her back so soft and tempting. If only he could peel off that dress and see the rest of her—

She was so beautiful, so desirable. Every woman in the room wanted to be her and every man wanted her. But she was his wife.

His wife.

So why not tell the world?

He glanced around the room. Everywhere he looked there were couples. Men and women holding hands, looking up at one another in excitement, sharing their happiness. His chest felt tight; his mouth was suddenly dry. He wanted to touch Addie and hold her close. But deep down he knew that they had no future. No sex, however perfect, was enough to make a marriage happy or healthy. He knew that better than anyone.

They were standing beside the roulette table. Beside him, the casino manager, Edgar, was talking to the young male croupier.

Malachi nodded at them. ‘Are we busy?’

The croupier nodded. ‘Yes, sir. Very busy. Roulette is very popular with the ladies.’

Malachi grinned. ‘It always is.’

Beside him, Edgar cleared his throat. ‘Would you like to play, Mr King? Or maybe...’ Glancing past Malachi, the manager smiled politely at Addie, hesitated.

Malachi stared at her profile in silence, feeling her tension. He’d always known this moment would come: the moment when he would have to formally introduce Addie and he knew that she was waiting for his response. His chest felt tight. She was his wife, but he didn’t believe in happy-ever-after.

He met her gaze deliberately. ‘Addie, this is Edgar Baptista, my casino manager. Edgar, this is Miss Addie Farrell.’

Addie stared at him in silence as slowly the meaning behind his words filtered through her nerves. Miss Farrell. Not Mrs King. Not My wife.

‘They want you to spin the wheel.’

She gazed up at him through the confused tangle of misery and disappointment. ‘Spin the what?’

He gestured towards the roulette wheel. ‘It’s a tradition. It brings good luck to the house.’

‘I’m surprised you of all people believe in luck,’ she said lightly, pushing down the hurt in her chest. ‘You’ll be telling me next you believe in the tooth fairy.’

His eyes met hers: dark, mocking, compelling.

‘We have a saying in the casino, sweetheart. Luck is for losers. But it seems a little churlish to point that out right now.’

He smiled at her then—one of those devastating smiles that made her heart beat too fast.

‘Besides, everyone needs a bit of luck in their lives, don’t you think? For when the odds are really against them.’

Only of course the odds never were against Malachi. How could they be? He was the man who set them.

Finally the evening was over. As they left the casino photographers crowded onto the steps, calling out to Malachi, cameras flashing on every side as he replied with his usual sangfroid.

‘What do they want?’ she whispered.

‘They want to know who you are.’ His eyes were cool.

‘What did you tell them?’ She swallowed, trying to hide her longing.

‘I told them I wasn’t going to do their job for them.’

It was a good answer. Plausible and playful. And evasive. A perfect bluff, in fact.

Her heart was hammering so loudly it took her a moment to realise that the press were still shouting at them.

‘What are they saying now?’ she said dully as he slid his arm around her waist.

‘They want a photo.’ He smiled down at her.

‘Haven’t they got enough?’

‘They want a very particular kind of photo,’ he said softly and, pulling her firmly against him, he lowered his head and kissed her.

Light exploded around them, and despite herself Addie felt her stomach curl as he deepened the kiss to the roar of the photographers. It was over in a moment.

Lifting his head, he smiled at her lazily. ‘There. Now everyone’s happy!’

Except she wasn’t. Instead she felt restless, on edge—like a warrior getting ready for battle.

To Addie, the suite felt strangely still and quiet after the noise and drama of the casino.

Pulling loose his tie, Malachi walked slowly round her, studying her appraisingly, stopping behind her. Then, moving forward, he slowly began to stroke the back of her neck. ‘So. Did you enjoy yourself tonight?’

Addie nodded. She couldn’t run away from what had happened at the casino, but already her skin was tingling, her body leaning into his. ‘It was fun. I’m just sad it’s all over—’

Her pulse jerked as she felt his lips brush against her throat, and suddenly she was desperate for him to kiss her properly.

‘Don’t worry,’ he murmured, tipping her head back, his mouth teasing hers. ‘The fun’s only just beginning...’

Staring up at the moonlight, Malachi walked slowly across the rooftop terrace and sat down on a concrete bench. His face was impassive but his head was in turmoil. It had been a perfect evening. The casino had run like clockwork. All the VIPs had gone home happy. Everything had gone according to plan.

And Addie—she had played her part to perfection. She had been the most beautiful woman in the room. In that dark red dress she had been more intoxicating than a bottle of claret. All eyes had followed her around the room and having her beside him, her arm curled through his, had felt right. It had felt good.

His mouth twisted. Only that was the problem. He didn’t want it to feel good or right. Any more than he’d wanted to feel so out of control when he’d seen her with his father.

The truth was he didn’t want to feel anything at all.

A muscle tightenend in his jaw. He’d rather jump into a pool of sharks. It would certainly be less dangerous. Less painful. Although he knew he was probably alone in thinking that way.

His stomach tightened. But that was the point. He was alone. He always had been. And nothing and no one could change that fact. Especially not a woman who had traded sex for money.

‘Malachi—’

He turned.

Addie stepped forward, her face hesitant beneath the moonlight. ‘Is everything okay?’

He nodded. ‘Of course. I just needed some fresh air. Clear my head.’ He frowned. ‘You’re dressed!’

She was wearing jeans and his dress shirt. Her face was flushed.

‘I couldn’t find you. I thought maybe you’d gone downstairs. Then I remembered about the roof garden, so I thought I’d check up here first.’

He smiled. ‘I’m fine. I’m just a bit wired. It was a big night. Lots of things to get right.’

‘You did a good job.’ She smiled. ‘It’s a pity you can’t give yourself some kind of reward.’

He took her waist in both hands and pulled her towards him. ‘I did that earlier.’

She looked up at him, her eyes fixing on his face, her expression suddenly intent. ‘Is that what I am? A reward?’

He stared past her, her words trapping him against the concrete, panic rising up inside. What the hell had he done? All those years he’d held it together, had never said a word about his parents or his childhood to anyone. Then Addie came back into his life, with her questions and her concern and her soft blue eyes, and all those barriers he’d built between the world and himself had come crashing down. And this was the consequence. This assumption that she had some right to cross-examine him, to expect answers.

But it was going to stop now.

‘I like to think of you more as an asset.’ He met her gaze levelly. ‘Which reminds me—I’m flying down to Rio tomorrow. To look at a casino. I thought maybe you’d like to come with me. It’s a beautiful city. Perhaps we could go to Buenos Aires and Santiago. Maybe even Acapulco.’

Addie gazed at him warily, trying to contain the chaos and confusion inside. Something was happening. Something she didn’t quite understand. He was inviting her to go away with him and yet his manner was strangely detached, careless almost.

It had been such a tough couple of days. His parents’ party had been horrible. But for the first time she had actually understood what had made Malachi the man he was. And afterwards he had needed her—not for sex, but for comfort and support. They had seemed so close.

Only now that closeness felt like an illusion, a trick of her senses, for all evening he had deliberately chosen not to acknowledge her as his wife. And now he was inviting her to go to Rio with him. Not even as his mistress but as an asset—

Her heart bumped against her ribs as though it was warning her to stay quiet. But she couldn’t run away from this conversation. Not this time. Not after everything that had happened. ‘I’d love to go to all those places. But how does that fit in with our deal?’

There. She had said it. She watched his eyes narrow fractionally.

Malachi stared at her in silence.

Their deal! A thread of anger and frustration uncoiled like a snake in the pit of his stomach. He could see the tension in her face, the doubt and unease, and he knew what she wanted him to say. But he would never say it. He couldn’t.

His chest grew tight. He felt hard, cruel, knowing how much he was about to hurt her. But he couldn’t give her what she needed.

Meeting her gaze, he smiled at her coolly. ‘I’m not sure I understand the question, sweetheart. Nothing’s changed except our location.’

He watched her eyes widen.

‘I don’t care about the location—’ she began.

‘So it’s about the money?’ he said smoothly.

It was as though he had slapped her.

‘The money? No, it’s not about the money!’ she protested.

Her face was flushed and he could see a pulse beating at the base of her throat.

‘It’s about us.’

‘“Us”?’ he repeated softly.

‘Yes. Us. You and me. Doing a tour of South America. How does that work, Malachi?’

She stared at him defiantly, but he heard the catch in her voice.

‘I’m saying let’s go to Rio. And then we’ll take it from there. One day at a time.’

Her face shifted, softened. ‘So you want to try again? Properly, I mean?’

He felt his chest clench painfully at the question. The hope in her eyes took his breath away. For a moment it made him hope and believe that it could work. That maybe he could need her and love her and care about her as she cared about him.

And then, slowly his hope faded, his eyes slid past her to the spiral staircase leading back down to their suite and to escape. It was no good. He might have let Addie get close, closer than anyone ever had, but he couldn’t handle it. Couldn’t handle caring or needing or loving. He’d tried for so many years with his parents and look where that had got him.

But she didn’t need to share his fear and pain and guilt and anger. Slowly, deliberately, he met her gaze. ‘I don’t remember saying that.’

Addie looked at him in confusion. ‘You said we’d take things one day at a time. You just said it.’

‘I meant carry on as we are one day at a time. Or a week at a time, if you prefer. Obviously there won’t be the same financial terms, but I’m happy to give you an allowance.’

She felt dizzy; her breathing was all wrong—jerky and out of time. For a moment she felt flattened. Earlier, standing by his side in that beautiful gilded room, she had actually started to believe in them...in their future. But now she realised that whatever future they might have had it had ended before it had ever begun.

‘A week at a time...?’ she echoed. Her heart seemed to be shrinking, its beat slowing. Was he actually offering to keep her on as his mistress on a weekly basis?

‘If you prefer.’ He shrugged. ‘We can see how it goes.’

She nodded mechanically, unable to speak. And then, glancing down, she realised he was still holding her by the waist. Breathing in, she reached down and pushed his hands away.

‘You utter bastard,’ she said slowly. ‘What is wrong with you? How can you sit there and suggest this? That I be your mistress on some kind of zero-hours contract like I’m a chambermaid?’ She shook her head; her stomach was churning.

His eyes were cold. ‘You’re being irrational. I’m simply offering the same deal with slightly modified terms. If it’s the money that’s a problem—’

‘Go to hell!’ she snarled. Her hands curling into fists, she took a step backwards. ‘I can’t believe this,’ she whispered. ‘I actually thought we could try again. That we could give our marriage a second chance. I must have been out of my mind.’

‘If you thought I was going to renew my vows to a woman who slept with me for money, then I’d have to agree with you,’ he said coldly.

Stepping forward, she slapped him across the face.

For a moment there was no sound except the distant downtown traffic and her frantic, uneven breathing.

Her eyes were wide and stunned, as though he had slapped her. ‘I can’t do this any more. I know loving you is hard. I did it before and it nearly broke me. I wanted to keep fighting for us. But I can’t. I’ve got to think of myself now, and you will never give me what I need—how can you? You don’t have it to give, Malachi.’

He took a step towards her, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘You need to calm down.’

She stared at him, her whole body trembling. ‘No. I need to leave.’

Turning, she began to walk, then run towards the staircase.

‘We have a deal, Addie.’ His voice was like ice.

Her foot was on the top step as she turned to face him. ‘So sue me. And while you’re at it you can divorce me too.’

And, grabbing hold of the rail, she ran lightly down the stairs.