Her chair rasped backwards
as she stood up too, her hands curling into fists, shocked by his admission, shocked too by how desolate it made her feel to know that there was nothing she could do, much less say, to sway his mind from the view that she was just as corrupt and manipulative as her stepfather and uncle.
But it shouldn’t hurt this much. After all, it wasn’t as if he was the only person who believed in the no-smoke-without-fire argument. Even before the guilty verdict many of her friends and acquaintances had vowed never to speak to her again. Yet for some reason his judgement hurt more than anyone else’s.
‘That’s the difference between you and Lissy. You. Don’t. Have. A. Heart.’ Lifting her hand, she punctuated each word with a jab to the taut muscles of his chest.
She gasped when he caught her hand and jerked her closer—so close she could feel the heat of his body and his anger pulsing under his skin in time with hers. Only it wasn’t his anger that was scaring her. It was what lay beneath...the curling, confusing pull of desire that was quickening her pulse and making her legs shake.
Her heart jumped. He felt it too. She could see it in the sudden shrinking of his pupils. For a few quivering seconds she stared at him dazedly. They were close enough that if she tilted her head just a fraction her lips would brush against his, and she felt her body lean forward even as her mind rebelled at the thought.
She jerked her eyes up to his face as he took a step closer, his grip tightening, his beautiful curving mouth distorted into a sneer.
‘My heart doesn’t need to get involved when I’m dealing with a self-serving little witch like you—just my instincts. And they tell me that sooner or later you won’t be able to help yourself. You’ll see something you want, something bright and shiny, and you’ll throw my sister under a bus to get it.’
She shook her hand free. ‘That’s not true. I love Alicia and I would never do anything to hurt her.’
‘An admirable sentiment, I’m sure. Unfortunately,’ he said slowly, ‘you already have.’ His eyes held hers, their dark pupils relentless and unforgiving. ‘And that’s the worst thing about people like you and your stepfather and your uncle. You don’t understand love and loyalty, so you don’t know what it feels like to have it thrown in your face.’
He was wrong. She knew exactly what that felt like—so much so that she could still feel it now, the hot ache of humiliation and a hollowness inside that sucked in every hope and dream like a black hole in space.
For a moment she couldn’t speak. The pain was blocking her ability to think straight. Didn’t he realise that she’d been in love with him? That her heart had been broken that night...by him?
She took a deep breath. He had recognised her hunger for it had reflected his, but he hadn’t been in love so of course he hadn’t seen her desperate, hopeful yearning. Her stomach tensed. She’d been a fool to come here, but she would be an even bigger fool to stay.
‘And the worst thing about people like you,’ she said, ‘is that you always think you’re right. Even though statistically you have to be wrong sometimes, you think you’re better than everyone else—that you’re one of the good guys.’ Breathing out shakily, she shook her head. ‘What a joke!’
A part of her could hardly believe what she was saying, but she was sick of him playing judge, jury and executioner.
‘You know what, Basa? Back in England, I thought maybe just a tiny part of you meant what you said to Lissy about clearing the air. That you might be willing to give me a chance to show you who I really am. But you don’t want to do that, do you?’
‘No, I don’t,’ he said softly, his eyes locked on hers. ‘What would be the point? You see, I already know who you are.’
Actually, you don’t.
The words formed inside her head, but before she had a chance to say them out loud her eyes snagged on the heat in his gaze. And without pausing, much less thinking, she took a step forward and kissed him.
Her mouth melted under his, her hands pulling him closer, carelessly crushing the fine wool fabric of his jacket and then moving up around his neck as naturally as if they did it every day.
He tensed, his breath backing up in his throat, and then he gathered her closer, pressing her against him as if he was scared she would slip through his fingers. She felt her body loosen, so that there was nothing holding her together except his arm around her waist and his lips on hers.
She moaned, and as if he’d been stung he jerked away from her, his eyes widening as he gazed down into her face.
‘What the—?’
Later, she would question the rawness in his voice, but in that moment she was too stunned, too devastated by the incredible stupidity of her actions, to register it—too focused on the need to escape from this house, and this man, and the tangle of suffocating emotions that had caused a thick, choking panic to fill her chest.
She took an unsteady step backwards.
‘You think you know me, but you don’t know me at all. So let me introduce myself. Hi, my name’s Mimi Miller, and my life is miserable enough as it is without having to put up with some cold-blooded arrogant bully sitting in judgement over me for the next two days. I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure meeting you, but it hasn’t. So, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll skip dessert.’
And before he had a chance to reply, much less react, she darted past him, narrowly sidestepping a startled Antonia. She registered the housekeeper’s dazed expression, heard Basa call her name, but she didn’t stop. She just kept moving through the hall and up the stairs, until finally she reached the sanctuary of her bedroom.
* * *
Slumping back against his chair, Basa picked up his coffee cup and then put it down again, an expression of disgust twisting his handsome face. After Mimi’s exit he’d left the dining room as usual, to take his coffee in the lounge, but he didn’t want coffee. He wanted to know what was happening to his perfectly ordered life.
Except that whatever loosely passed as his brain these days was struggling to form a sensible thought.