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Mills & Boon Modern February 2014 Collection


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      ‘What does it look like I’m doing? I’m eating a cheese and pickle sandwich.’ She finished chewing a mouthful which now tasted like sawdust and stared at him. ‘Anyway, I thought you were in meetings.’

      ‘I cancelled them when I didn’t hear from you. I’ve been going out of my mind with worry.’

      ‘So Alice said.’

      ‘So Alice said,’ he repeated, and then his eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t you care?’

      At this, she put the rest of the sandwich down on the plate but her hands were still trembling as she met the accusation in his eyes.

      ‘Don’t I care?’ She gave a short laugh. ‘I did. I cared very much. But I realise now how incredibly stupid I’ve been. I mean, how could I possibly think that ours was a marriage worth saving? You told me that our relationship was to be based on truth and you lied. A loveless marriage I could just about live with, but not lies, Gabe. Not lies.’

      And with that, she pushed back her chair and ran out of the café.

      CHAPTER TWELVE

      THE COOL RAIN hit Leila’s face as she met the fresh air, but Gabe was hot on her heels. She ran straight past the chauffeur-driven car which was obviously his, but he caught up with her before she’d reached the end of the street.

      His hands on her elbows, he hauled her round to face him and held on to her tightly, even though she tried to struggle out of his grip.

      ‘You can’t run away,’ he said grimly.

      ‘I can do anything I like. And I want to be as far away from you as possible. So go away and leave me alone.’

      ‘I’m not going anywhere without you and I’m not having this discussion in the middle of the street in the pouring rain.’

      ‘Terrified it will ruin your ice-cool image?’ she mocked.

      ‘Terrified that you’ll catch a cold—especially in your present condition,’ he said. ‘You’re pregnant, Leila. Remember?’

      ‘Oh!’ She gave a howl of frustrated rage as she struggled again. ‘As if I could ever forget!’

      But he was levering her gently towards the waiting car, and the chauffeur had leapt out to open the door. Gabe was easing her onto the back seat and Leila was appalled at how relieved she felt as warmth and luxury wrapped themselves round her body like a soft and comforting mantle.

      That’s just the external stuff, she reminded herself bitterly. Money just makes things more comfortable. It doesn’t change anything. It doesn’t make the hurt and betrayal go away.

      She turned to face him as he slid onto the seat beside her. ‘I’m not going back to your apartment!’

      ‘We don’t have to do that,’ he said evenly. ‘Where would you like to go instead?’

      And wasn’t that the saddest thing of all—that she couldn’t think of anywhere? The place she most wanted to be was in his heart, and there was no place for her there.

      ‘I don’t care,’ she said.

      ‘Then let’s just drive around for a while, shall we? And you can tell me what’s wrong.’

      ‘What’s wrong? What’s wrong?’ She hated the way he was talking to her as if she were aged a hundred and had forgotten where she lived. It was as much as she could do not to bang her fists frustratedly against his chest. And sudden all her hurt and pain and disappointment came bubbling out. ‘I’ll tell you what’s wrong! You told me that our marriage was to be based on truth. You told me you couldn’t promise me love, but you could promise me that. And I believed you.’ Tears sprang from her eyes and began to trickle down her cheeks. ‘I believed you even though I wanted the impossible from you. I wanted your love, but I was prepared to settle for the truth.’

      ‘Leila—’

      ‘And then this morning.’ Angrily, she shook away the hand which he’d placed on her arm. ‘This morning I found some photos stuffed away in a drawer in the wardrobe.’

      He went very still. ‘So you’ve been spying on me, have you?’

      ‘Don’t you dare try to turn this on me! I was actually looking for a bigger home for my shoe collection—but that’s not the point! The point is that I found photos of you with a man who was clearly your father. A man you told me you’d never met. You lied to me, Gabe. You lied to me.’

      There was silence in the car, punctuated only by the muffled sound of her sobs and, reluctantly, she took the handkerchief he withdrew from his pocket and buried her nose in it.

      ‘Yes, I lied to you,’ he said heavily. ‘I lied to you because...’

      His voice faded away and it was so unlike Gabe to hesitate that Leila lifted her nose from the handkerchief to look at him. Her vision was blurred through her tears but she saw enough to startle her, for his eyes looked like two empty holes in a face so ravaged with emotion that for a moment he didn’t look like Gabe at all.

      ‘Because, what?’

      He shook his head and turned to her as the words began to spill from his lips, as if he’d been bottling them up for a long time. ‘What if you were a man and you met a woman who just blew you away, in a way you didn’t recognise at the time—because it had never happened to you before? Maybe you were determined not to recognise it because it was something you didn’t believe in. Something which, deep down, you feared.’

      Leila sniffed. ‘None of that makes sense.’

      ‘Hear me out.’ He sucked in a deep breath. ‘So you walk away from this woman, telling yourself that you’ve made the best and the only decision you could possibly make. But you’re not sure. In fact, you’re starting to realise that you’ve just done the dumbest thing imaginable, when she turns up at your home in London. And you look at her and realise what an idiot you’ve been. You realise that here you have a chance for happiness right in front of your eyes, but you’re scared. And then...’

      His voice tailed off and she saw his features harden.

      ‘Then?’

      ‘Then she tells you she’s pregnant and you’re even more scared. Because this is a double-edged sword. On the one hand, it means you can be together legitimately without having to delve too deeply into your own emotions. Yet on the other...’

      ‘Gabe!’ Her anger forgotten now, she leaned forward—wondering what on earth could have put such a haunted expression on his face. ‘Will you please stop talking in riddles? The fact is that you lied about seeing your father and nothing can change that.’

      ‘No. Nothing can change that. But what if I told you there was a reason why my mother kept his identity from me?’ He raked his fingers back through his plastered hair and his fingertips came away wet. For a moment he just stared at them, as if he might find some kind of answer gleaming back at him from that damp, cold skin.

      ‘After she died, I felt angry and bitter—and guilty too. But I went to London and I started working and, as I told you, success came pretty quickly.’

      ‘Yes,’ she said quietly. ‘You told me.’

      ‘I embraced my new role as a successful businessman but sometimes—not often—I would think about my father. I couldn’t eradicate the curiosity which still niggled away at me. I didn’t know if he was dead or alive. I wanted to confront him. I wanted to know why he’d abdicated all his responsibilities towards me. I wanted to tell him that a woman had died sooner than reveal his identity.’ He clenched his fist, as if he wanted to hit something. Or someone. ‘I guess I was looking for someone to blame for her death. Someone who wasn’t me.’

      ‘Go on,’ she said.

      ‘I was rich by this point. Rich enough to find anyone I wanted and it didn’t