‘I got in the way of your fiancée while she was leaving,’ she said.
His fingers tensed on her heel. ‘Mira did this?’ he said and she could hear the fury in his voice.
She nodded, wishing she could take the words back.
Why did you bring up his broken engagement?
He’d seemed pragmatic about it downstairs, but how did she know that wasn’t all an act? Like the act he had put on as a boy, when his father had referred to him as ‘my bastard son’ at the supper table, or the don’t-give-a-damn smile he’d sent her when she had witnessed Pierre backhand him across the face—and she’d tried to defend him.
‘Some people deserve to be hurt, ma petite.’
His father’s answer still haunted her.
No one deserved to be hurt, least of all Dominic, who had seemed to her back then—despite that don’t-give-a-damn bravado—like a lost boy, jealously guarding secrets he refused to share.
What if he was just as hurt about his broken engagement? And his anger now was only there to disguise that hurt?
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to upset you.’
‘Upset me?’ The flash of anger was replaced by an incredulous look. ‘What could you have done to upset me?’
‘By bringing up the end of your engagement. I didn’t mean to remind you of it. I’m sure it must be awful for you. The break-up?’
She was babbling, but she couldn’t help it, because he had settled back onto his heels and was staring at her as if she’d lost her mind.
‘Alison,’ he said and she could hear the hint of condescension. ‘In the first place, you haven’t upset me. She has, by her spoilt, unpleasant behaviour. She made you bleed...’
‘I’m sure it was an accident,’ she said, despite the warm glow at his concern.
‘Knowing Mira and her selfish, capricious temperament, I doubt that,’ he said. ‘And in the second place, the break-up has not upset me. The engagement was a mistake and the marriage would have been an even bigger one.’
‘But you must have loved her once?’ she said, then felt like a fool, when the rueful smile widened.
‘Must I?’ he said. ‘Why must I?’
‘Because... Because you were going to marry her?’ Wasn’t it obvious?
He tilted his head, and studied her. ‘I see you’re still as much of a romantic as you were at ten,’ he said, with much more than just a hint of condescension.
‘I wasn’t ten that summer, I was thirteen,’ she countered.
‘Really?’ he said, mocking her now. ‘So grown up.’
She shifted in her seat, supremely uncomfortable. It was as if he could see right past the bravado, the pretence of maturity, to the girl she’d been all those years ago when she’d idolised him. But she wasn’t that teenager any more, she was twenty-five years old. And maybe she didn’t have much relationship experience, but she had enough life experience to make up for it.
‘If I was a romantic then,’ she said, because maybe she had been, ‘I’m certainly not one now.’
‘Then why would you believe I was in love with Mira?’ he said, as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the world.
‘Maybe because you were planning to spend the rest of your life with her.’ She wanted to add a ‘Duh’ but managed to control it. The room was already full to bursting with sarcasm.
‘It wasn’t a love match,’ he said, the pragmatic tone disconcerting as he bent his head and continued tending her leg as he spoke. ‘I needed a wife to secure an important business deal and Mira fit the bill. Or so I thought. But even if I hadn’t discovered my mistake in time, the marriage was only supposed to last for a few months.’
‘Your marriage had a sell-by date?’ she asked, shocked by the depth of his cynicism.
‘I might have been misguided enough to propose to Mira,’ he said, smiling at her as he grabbed the bandage on the side table. ‘But I would never be foolish enough to shackle myself to her, or any woman, for life.’
‘I see,’ she said, although she really didn’t.