‘All the people who work there and everyone in the local community who’s helped us make the place a success will be devastated.’ She blew out an unsteady breath, the truth hitting her hard in the solar plexus. ‘And it’s all my fault.’
She’d made a mess of everything. The fat lady was singing her heart out and, barring a miracle, there would be no shutting her up now.
Gio stared at Issy’s pale shoulders rigid with tension, and at her slender hands clasped so tight in her lap she was probably about to dislocate a finger.
And wanted to punch his fist through a wall.
Why couldn’t she have wanted the money for herself?
Of course she didn’t. Issy didn’t work that way. She’d always had too much integrity for her own good.
Now he didn’t just feel responsible, he felt the unfamiliar prickle of guilt.
He shouldn’t have goaded her. Made the money an issue.
But he hadn’t been able to stop himself. The minute he’d spotted her waiting by the empty pool the desire he’d been trying and failing to handle for well over a week had surged back to life like a wild beast.
And he’d instantly resented it. And her.
She’d told him she detested him. Why did he still want her so much?
Suggesting she come up to his bedroom had been a ploy to humiliate her. He’d been sure she would refuse. But she hadn’t. And her forthright acceptance had made him feel like a jerk.
Then she’d asked him for money. And resentment had turned to anger.
He’d seen the unconscious flare of desire in her eyes and decided to exploit it. She wasn’t here for his money, and he could prove it.
The sex had been incredible. Better even than the first time. Explosive. Exhilarating. A force of nature neither of them could control.
And she’d enjoyed it as much as he had. So he’d been well and truly vindicated.
But her financial problems had ruined the nice buzz of triumph and spectacular sex, stabbing at his conscience in a way he didn’t like.
‘Exactly how much of a hole is your theatre in?’ he asked.
‘The interest on our loan is thirty thousand. And we’ve got less than two weeks to raise it.’
Her damp lashes made her turquoise eyes look even bigger than usual. And his conscience took another hit.
‘Is that all?’ he prompted.
She shook her head, looked back at her lap. ‘We’d need over a hundred to be safe for the rest of the year.’ She gave a jerky shrug, as if a huge weight were balanced on her shoulders. ‘We’ve been trying to find sponsors for months now,’ she continued. ‘The two grants we got last year have been withdrawn. The pub revenue was hit by the smoking ban, and…’ She trailed off, sighed. ‘It was a stupid idea to come to you. Why should you care about some bankrupt theatre?’ She brushed a single tear away. ‘But I was desperate.’
He covered her clasped hands with one of his, surprised by the u
rge to comfort. ‘Issy, stop crying.’ He’d always hated to see her cry. ‘The money’s yours. All of it. It’s not a problem.’
Her head lifted and she stared at him as if he’d just sprouted an extra head. ‘Don’t be silly. You can’t do that. Why would you?’
He shrugged. ‘Why wouldn’t I? It’s a good cause.’ But even as he said it he knew that wasn’t the reason he wanted to give her the money.
He’d never really forgiven himself for the way he’d stormed out on her all those years ago.
He didn’t regret the decision to walk away. Issy had been young, romantic and impossibly sweet. She’d had a crush on him for years and didn’t have a clue what he was really like. But he’d been much harder on her than he needed to be.
He’d accused her of keeping her virginity a secret. But he’d realised in hindsight that had been a stupid misunderstanding. She’d been too innocent to know they were talking at cross-purposes. But at the time he’d felt trapped and wary—and furious with himself for not withdrawing the instant he knew he was her first—and he’d taken it out on her.
Then she’d told him she loved him, and for one fleeting second he’d actually wanted it to be true—making him realise how much he had let his argument with the Duke get to him—and he’d taken that out on her too.