She brushed her hands up and down her arms, trying to stimulate blood flow to counteract the chill engulfing her. It was on the tip of her tongue to observe that maybe paying for a woman’s companionship was the only way Angelo Ricci could get one to stay.
But he’d just laugh. Even when he looked down his nose at her, he was still a man who drew the eye.
Drew the eye! He was magnificent, dangerous and brooding. He’d attract women like moths to a flame. Until they discovered there was nothing soft or caring beneath that adamantine exterior.
Ally shuddered. ‘Thank goodness that’s over.’
Dark eyes narrowed on her as if he didn’t believe she’d said that.
Let him think what he liked. She had more on her mind than whether Angelo Ricci was happy.
‘Yet we married. Surely that means we were in love once?’
‘Love?’ His deep voice hit a jarring note that grated through her. ‘Hardly. You married me for my money.’
It was like a slap to the face. She flinched, absorbing the shock. Yet another shock. When would they end?
His eyes glinted with pure dislike and, finally, Ally understood. That was why he didn’t want her here. That was why he was so unfriendly and his housekeeper refused to smile. He thought her a gold-digger who’d tried to take advantage of him.
Ally was torn between disbelief, because that couldn’t be who she was, and an absurd desire to say she was sorry. But apologising for something she didn’t remember? That meant accepting his words at face value. Surely it took two to break a marriage, just as there were two sides to every story. She was hearing his version of events. What was hers?
She blinked and stared down at her hands, now clasped in her lap. Her head was throbbing again and the edges of her vision blurred. When she moved too fast she felt giddy. But she couldn’t stop now. She had to know everything.
‘If I was avaricious, why marry me?’
Her ex-husband shot to his feet.
Ex-husband. She still found it incredible.
He swung around to face the window and shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Ally’s gaze caught on the tight curve of his backside in faded denim.
Suddenly the notion of them being together, being intimate, wasn’t so difficult to believe. Her throat dried and she swallowed hard.
‘It was a mistake. One I regretted almost immediately.’
She opened her mouth then closed it again.
What did it matter now? Did she really want to trawl through every last detail of something that had obviously ended acrimoniously?
She longed for something positive. To hear just one thing about herself that she could build on. To hear of one good quality she had. But she wouldn’t get that here.
So far her skills were sex and spending money! If she’d kept this man, who exuded sexual chemistry, happy in bed, happy enough to promote her from mistress to wife, she must be very good at sex.
Ally grimaced and propped her head in her hands.
Thatwasn’twhat she was hoping for.
Was it totally naïve to think that somewhere in the world she had friends and family who liked her, missed her and worried why she wasn’t in contact?
Was it weak to hope that someone cared about her? That she wasn’t the black-hearted opportunist he painted?
A day later Angelo hunched against the buffeting wind, prowling the strip of beach that had narrowed with the high seas. The storm’s fury had eased briefly and he needed fresh air. Being cooped up in the house with his ex-wife made him feel hemmed in. Even though he only saw her to check she was all right.
She was visibly improving, so hopefully she wouldn’t be here long. But that still left the question of why she’d returned.
He kicked a pebble across the pale pink sand, listening to the slap of waves and the roar of the wind.
It was more than claustrophobia he suffered. His feelings were an uncomfortable mix of suspicion, fascination, doubt and guilt.