‘I hadn’t thought it through. I still haven’t. It was a greater shock than I had anticipated,’ he admitted roughly. ‘Seeing him in the flesh like that.’
‘Yes. I can imagine it was. But...’ She hesitated. ‘You can’t just let this opportunity go, Corso. You just can’t. You’ve dared to dig the secret out and examine it and that’s a really brave thing to do.’
She smiled at him and it was the sweetest smile he’d ever seen. So why had his heart started aching, as if something very sad and inevitable were about to happen? As if he had anticipated what her next words were going to be...
‘I mean, it’s such an incredible coincidence that he happened to be in the same city at all, isn’t it?’ And when he didn’t answer she searched his face and he saw the beginnings of a frown begin to appear. It happened almost in slow motion. He watched as she stared down at the sheet, as if searching for spots of coffee they might have spilled there, and when she looked up again her mouth was twisted, as if she’d just touched her tongue to her teeth and tasted something very bitter. ‘But it wasn’t like that, was it, Corso?’ she said slowly. ‘Bringing the collection to New York and managing to see your half-brother at the same time wasn’t just a huge coincidence.’
‘Does it matter?’
‘Actually, I think it does.’ She sat up straight, pushing her untidy hair away from cheeks which were suddenly very flushed. ‘The whole tour was planned in order to make that happen, wasn’t it?’
There was a moment of complete and breathless quiet.
‘What if it was?’ he demanded harshly. ‘What difference does it make?’
Rosie heard the irritation in his voice and the dismissal, too. Yes, there was definitely dismissal—along with that innate sense of entitlement which was never far from the surface. His royal authority superseded everything and woe betide anyone who allowed themselves to forget that. He might have tolerated her feistiness before—but that had been as lovers, when it was all a bit of a game. And this was no longer a game. He would no longer tolerate her insurrection or advice, because this was too important. This had been his main objective all along and everything else had been an irrelevance.
Including her.
‘That’s why you didn’t mind being seen with me, isn’t it?’ she said slowly, her gaze not leaving his. ‘Why you wanted to eat out when we arrived here. Because you know it would encourage the press to take our photos and wonder about the exact nature of our relationship. It would prevent the media from fishing around and finding out the real reason why you might be in New York, wouldn’t it? I suppose I must have put a spanner in the works by telling you I’d prefer to eat in and not make a fuss.’ She gave a bitter laugh. ‘What a disappointment I must have been, Corso—when any other woman would have moved heaven and earth to be seen with you in public. That’s why you touched me at the reception last night, wasn’t it? Knowing people would notice and it would send their imaginations into overdrive. It would override the fact that you’d been staring across the room at a stranger who looked like you, and stop anyone from asking why. You’re not going to deny that, are you, Corso? At least do me the courtesy of telling the truth.’
She saw a muscle working at his temple but that was the only thing about him which moved, because the tension was making his body look as if it had been carved from rock. How he must loathe this kind of analysis, she thought—trying to convince herself she felt no pity for him as he nodded, his expression grim.
‘Yes, you’re right. I plead guilty to all your accusations. I saw an opportunity and I took it.’ His voice harshened. ‘But while I might have decided to capitalise on our relationship once we’d become lovers, I didn’t actively set out to seduce you. That was never part of my plan. I didn’t have sex with you in order to use you. You must believe that, Rosie.’
No, he had seduced her because he had gone without sex for seven long years, and she had been available—falling into his arms like a ripe piece of fruit dripping from the tree. In a way it might have been a lot more flattering if hehadintended to seduce her.
And hehadused her, that was the bottom line. He’d used her just as surely as that scammer had used her mother. He’d used her as a smokescreen. A distraction. All the while she’d been thinking how close they’d become and how easy it would be to love him—he had been busy guarding all his secrets.
Rosie stared at the man who stood like a towering colossus against the glorious New York sunrise. In jeans and T-shirt, with the hint of new beard shadowing his jaw, his outward appearance wasn’t the least bit regal—yet his extraordinary power radiated from every pore of his body.
She had often wondered how this strange affair of theirs might end. Whether she would be grown-up enough to wish him well for the dynastic marriage he’d spoken of, which featured somewhere in his future. She’d never imagined it would be like this—with a sense of bitter hurt and betrayal seeping through her veins like poison.
Unwilling to rise naked from the bed in front of him, she gave him a tight smile. ‘I wonder if you wouldn’t mind leaving me alone now, Corso? Because I’d like to pack.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘What do you think I’m talking about? I’m going back to England. So first I’m going to pack and then I’d like Rodrigo to arrange my transport back home.’
His frown deepened. ‘But we still have the London leg of the tour to do.’
He meant it. That was the worst part. He didn’t stop to consider howshemight be feeling after his astonishing revelation. ‘Did you honestly think we were just going to carry on as before?’ she demanded. ‘With me meekly helping mount another major exhibition as if nothing has happened and, what—still sharing your bed at night?’
‘I don’t see why not.’ He shrugged with what looked like genuine confusion. ‘I don’t understand why you’re so angry, Rosie.’
He had her on the spot now and she guessed what was making her most angry was the realisation of how little she really meant to him. But her pride would never let her admit to that. ‘I wish you’d told me,’ she said stubbornly. ‘About your brother.’
‘Why should I? That would imply an intimacy between us which I have never sought. Not with you. Not with anyone, if you want the truth.’ He lifted up the palms of his hands with an air of impatient query. ‘Just what did you expect, Rosie?’ he breathed. ‘It was only ever intended to be a casual affair, we both knew that. I’m returning to Monterosso imminently and they are lining up suitable princesses for me to make my choice of bride.’
‘Already?’ she burst out, before she could stop herself.
‘It’s going to be sooner rather than later.’ He paused, his next words very deliberate. ‘I need an heir.’
She flinched. She couldn’t help herself and, although she knew she had said enough, she couldn’t seem to hold back the bitter words. ‘And will you promise your future bride your fidelity, even if you can’t promise her your heart?’
His face became a disdainful mask as he stopped to consider this, as if she had finally overstepped the line. But maybe he decided to answer her question anyway—as if by doing that he would finally kill off any last, lingering hopes. ‘Of course I can,’ he said coolly. ‘Seven years of total celibacy has reassured me that I need never stray.’
She could have hit him, yet in the midst of Rosie’s pain came the knowledge that he was capable of so much more. That he didn’thaveto hide behind the emotional barriers he’d erected during a difficult childhood, spent with a dying mother and a distant father. Hecouldlearn to love—of that she was sure. Hadn’t there been moments when she’d seen a chink in his armour, when he had shown her glimpses of the man she knew he could be?