‘You want to leave?’ He leaned close, his finger stroking her cheek, pushing her hair back over her shoulder. It was all she could do not to turn into his touch and nestle her cheek against his palm.
She wanted so much. Thierry. This closeness. His passion—definitely his passion—but far more. She swallowed hard over a knot of pain.
Against the odds she’d shared a wonderful affair with a man who in every way the world counted was far out of her league. Now, when it should be over and they should be saying their goodbyes, it tore her apart.
Because it was true.
She’d fallen in love with Thierry Girard.
She wanted to be with him, not just now, sharing pleasure, but always, growing old together. Being a part of him just as he’d become a vital part of her.
‘I’m trying to do what’s right.’ And it had never been so hard. To her horror her mouth crumpled with the effort of holding in so much welling emotion.
‘I don’t want you to go.’ The words circled the still air and eddied deep inside her. Her head shot up, eyes locking with his.
‘You don’t?’
His smile was crooked and devastatingly sexy. ‘I want you here, chérie.’
Imogen’s heart locked in her throat. Could it be?
‘Is it so bad being here with me?’ he murmured, his hand trailing down her throat to her bare collarbone.
‘Of course not. I...’ She swallowed hard, trying to find her voice. ‘I like it here.’
She’d like anywhere so long as Thierry was with her. The enormity of her feelings blindsided her. How had she gone from casual attraction to full-blown love in such a short space of time? Maybe because she wasn’t made for casual affairs. That was why she’d been so cautious with her heart and her body before this.
‘I’m glad. I’d wondered if it might be too quiet for you here.’
Imogen shook her head. She loved the peace of the estate. Besides, it was only minutes to the nearest town and a short drive to the nearest city. But what made it perfect was Thierry’s presence.
‘You really want me to stay?’ Did he hear the longing in her voice? Hurriedly, she went on briskly. ‘I’d rather you were totally honest.’
Thierry hesitated and there was something in his eyes that made her uneasy. As if he hid something.
Yet what could he hide? He had been trustworthy, honest and generous from the night they’d met. He’d even pulled back from her physically when he’d believed her ill, putting her wellbeing before his own sexual needs.
He wouldn’t lie to her.
‘I want you to stay, Imogen.’ His gaze bored into hers, and she felt the impact right to her core. Slowly, he smiled and it was as if he’d flicked a switch, releasing the tension straining between them.
‘Think about what we’ve got.’ His hand dropped to the sheet covering her, his long fingers brushing her breasts in deliberate provocation. ‘We like each other. We’re sexually more than compatible.’ He lifted his hand away and it was only then Imogen discovered how far she’d leaned forward into his touch. ‘And we’re having a child. Why not stay together?’
Dazed as much by his touch as his words, Imogen sank back against the pillows, her body heavy and lax.
‘You want to stay married?’ She needed to hear him spell it out.
‘I do.’ That smile devastated her brain, making logic almost impossible. ‘It makes sense, Imogen.’
Part of her wanted to exult. He wanted her here, and not just as a temporary girlfriend. Imogen knew that a future with Thierry would be everything she’d never dared to hope for. Because when she was with him she felt...
‘What we have is good, isn’t it?’
Good?
Imogen’s thoughts screeched to a halt.
Good. That insipid word couldn’t describe how she felt when she was with Thierry.
She opened her mouth then closed it. Her neck prickled, the hairs standing to attention as finally her sluggish brain moved into gear.
She’d been on tenterhooks, wondering if he wanted her gone, but it was only now she realised what was missing.
Imogen met those gleaming eyes that she’d seen kindle with desire, crinkle with laughter or warm with concern. She took in those straight shoulders that she’d leaned on in moments of weakness and those capable hands that had helped her when she’d needed it. Thierry was caring, passionate and considerate.
But he doesn’t love you.
There was no urgency in him, no desperation. Just calm logic and, yes, liking.