‘Don’t say another word.’ He sprang into the car and flattened the accelerator to the floor, driving like an Athenian born and bred.
Anyone who thought driving in Paris was a nightmare should try Athens, Chantal though faintly, choosing to close her eyes rather than watch as Angelos zigzagged the car through the heavy traffic.
Finally he pulled in, ignoring the cars that zoomed past them at an alarming rate. ‘Where are we?’
‘Somewhere anonymous.’ He turned to face her, his expression grim.
‘I don’t know why you’re so angry.’
‘You accuse me of treating you like a prostitute and you don’t know why I’m angry?’
‘Actually, I didn’t accuse you of treating me like a prostitute. I just said that if you paid for everything it would make me feel like a prostitute. That isn’t the same thing.’
‘Have you any idea how many women have wanted to hear me say the words I just said to you?’
‘I’m sure lots of women would have been very flattered,’ she mumbled, and he inhaled sharply.
‘But you’re not one of them?’
‘No.’ She swallowed. ‘Unfortunately not.’
He ran a hand over his face, visibly struggling with his temper. ‘What do I have to do? What is it you want from me? Tell me, because I’m damned if I know.’
‘Nothing.’ She almost choked on the word. ‘That’s the point. Our circumstances are just too far apart. I can’t afford to live with you as your equal and I won’t let you keep me.’
‘Chantal—’ His voice was tense. ‘All around the world there are couples living together whose financial situation is not equal. Men go out to work, women raise children. In some families that situation is reversed, but one thing is sure—they don’t all have financial equality.’
‘Maybe not.’
‘I can’t believe you’re saying no to me.’
She swallowed and looked out of the window. ‘That’s just because no one has ever said no to you before. You’ll get over it. It will probably be character building.’
‘My character is fully formed,’ he muttered thickly. ‘What I don’t understand is why is this issue is so important to you.’
She stilled. ‘It just is.’
‘No.’ He turned to face her, his tone was an angry growl. ‘That isn’t good enough. If I’m supposed to let you go, Chantal, then at least do me the courtesy of explaining why.’
She stayed silent, aware that he was almost boiling with impatience in the seat next to her.
‘Chantal.’ His tone was dark and threatening. ‘I’m not letting you go unless—’
‘My mother was a prostitute.’
She heard his sharply indrawn breath and turned to look at him. ‘That’s right.’ She was surprised by how calm she sounded. ‘That’s who I am, Angelos. The daughter of a prostitute. Obviously getting pregnant with me was a career-limiting move, but she managed to get round that.’
‘Chantal—’
She turned her head, unable to look at him. Humiliation threatened to crush her, but she forced herself to give him the details he needed to hear. ‘You wanted the truth, and I’m telling you the truth just this once. After this don’t ever ask me to talk about it again.’ Why had she bothered saying that, when she knew that after this he wouldn’t want to go anywhere near her? She knew full well that this was going to be the last conversation they ever had. ‘At first we moved around a lot. I started a new school every term.’
‘Look at me, Chantal.’ He reached out and touched her arm, but she shrank away from him, her eyes still fixed in the middle distance.
‘I found it hard to settle in.’
After a moment, he let his hand drop. ‘I’m sure you did. I understand now why you found school difficult and couldn’t wait to leave. Did they know about your mother?’
‘Oh, yes.’ She kept her tone light. ‘No matter how hard I tried to keep it a secret, somehow someone always found out what my mother did. Obviously no one was allowed to be friends with me—no one wanted to be. And when I was on my own in the playground, or being tormented, I used to just escape in my head and pretend I was someone else. If I hated the situation I was in, I just imagined something different.’