‘I instructed the agency to disclose this address to no one!’ she snapped. ‘How dared they tell you?’
His eyes glinted sardonically. ‘I have access to all their files. As of yesterday, the agency belongs to me.’
‘What?’
‘I bought the agency, Alexa. It was clearly the only way to find out where you were.’
She stared. ‘You bought the agency to get my address?’ There was incredulity in her voice. Then, with a lift of her chin, she bit out, ‘You wasted your money. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but—’
‘I’m doing what I clearly ought to have done that night—making things clear to you!’
Her eyes flashed. ‘Oh, you made things very clear—don’t worry. I got the picture, I promise you. But like I said, I didn’t like the offer, so I turned it down. And now—’ her face hardened ‘—you can just get out—get out of my life!’
His expression changed. ‘You don’t mean that.’
It was the calm assurance with which he spoke that lit the touchpaper. Exploding her fury.
‘My God,’ she breathed, ‘you arrogant, conceited pig! Do you really think that just because you’re Guy de Rochemont you can behave any way you want? Do you think that just because like a complete idiot I fell back into bed with you I’ll do whatever you want? Do you? You think you can have an affair with me, and then calmly tell me one fine day that you’re getting married, and that’s it—and then months later turn up again and just pick up again where you left off, not worrying about anything as trivial as your fiancée? Do you? Because—’
‘Stop—Alexa, listen to me.’ His hand had flown up, as if to silence her passionate outpouring with an autocratic command.
‘What for?’ she bit back. ‘So you can tell me how
discreet you’re going to have to be when you pick up with me again?’
His eyes flashed. ‘I can’t help that, Alexa! Do you think I want to be clandestine in that way? I have no choice. And if you will simply listen to me, I will explain why—’
‘Oh, I’m sure you will!’ she thrust witheringly. ‘To you it’s all totally straightforward, isn’t it? Well, it is to me too. I don’t want anything more to do with you. There is nothing, nothing you can say that will change that. So go—go!’
She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, adrenaline pumping. It was unbearable—unbearable that Guy had walked in here. ‘Just go!’ she repeated, because he hadn’t budged at all, was still standing there, looking like the lord of the manor in the humble cottage of one of his countless peasants. Rich, arrogant, conceited—thinking he only had to find her to dictate his terms to her again. ‘Just go! You pushed your way in here. It’s unbelievable! You actually went and bought the letting agency just to find me. Your ego is monstrous—monstrous! Just because you’re Guy de Rochemont, born with a whole canteen of silver spoons in your mouth, and just because women swoon at your feet, you think you can do anything you want, get anyone you want. Any woman you want. Well, not me—not any more! There is nothing, nothing you can say to me that would ever change my mind.’
His face was stark as she threw her bitter words at him. Two white lines flared along his cheekbones.
‘Then I won’t waste my time talking.’
He was in front of her in an instant. He seized her arms, lowering over her. Panic, rage, fury, convulsed her. She threw herself backwards. ‘No! Not this time. Don’t touch me.’ She took a shuddering, shaking breath. ‘Whatever we had, it’s over. I’m not going there again. Ever. I don’t care,’ she spelt out, her words cutting like stone knives, hard and heavy, ‘whether you have a tame, cowed little fiancée in tow or not. I don’t want anything to do with you.’ Her face worked. ‘You were bad news right from the start, though I was too stupid to see it—and you’re bad news now. You always will be. I don’t want you. I don’t want anything to do with you. On any terms.’ She took one last shuddering breath. ‘Any terms at all.’
Her voice was flat. Final. She stared at him. She was back under control now. Back from that dangerous maelstrom of emotion. She’d mastered it, quelled it.
His face was stark, his jaw set like steel, the white lines along his tensed cheekbones etched like acid. His eyes were unreadable. Completely unreadable.
They always were. I never knew him. I loved him, but I never knew him. How stupid can a woman be, to love a man she doesn’t know? Who keeps her out of his real life…
Pain twisted inside her. All she’d ever had of him had been brief, bare snatches. Making do with scraps. No wonder he’d thought she would accept that vile adulterous offer of his. He’d had every expectation she would comply. After all, all he had to do was seduce her, just as he’d done that first time, and she would acquiesce in anything he wanted.
But no more. No more.
The desolation she was long familiar with swept through her. This had to end—now. His eyes were on her. Masked. Unreadable. The pain twisted again—the pain of seeing him, wanting so much to reach out and let him take her in his arms, let his mouth lower to hers, let him do what every cell in her body suddenly, flaringly, vividly, oh, so vividly, wanted him to do—let him make her forget everything that her head knew about him, everything that she must not forget. To melt her flesh and melt her mind, so that they were only bodies, bared and beautiful, twining together, made one together…
But they weren’t one. They were as separate from each other as it was possible to be.
‘Alexa—’
There was something in his voice. Something that she blocked out. Had to block out. Something dangerous.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘No—I’m not going there. This ends, Guy. Now.’
She moved away, making the move deliberate, controlled. Heading for the kitchen and the lean-to beyond.