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‘I’ll see you to your room,’ Philly offered, relishing the thought of a moment’s respite from the heated accusations of his dark eyes, but Daphne would have none of it.

‘No! Marjorie can look after me. It’s your wedding night, after all.’

Daphne made her goodnights and disappeared with Marjorie in a whirl of excitement and congratulations. The second they’d left the room Philly turned, trying to take the offensive.

‘Damien, it’s not how it sounds. We have to talk.’

Without looking at her, he walked straight past and out of the room, leaving her to chase after him in his wake, a combination of his woody cologne, fury and a sense of betrayal wafting behind him. Lifting her full-length silk skirts she tripped down the hallway after him, barely able to keep up with his long, purposeful stride. He entered the room that was to have been theirs, the massive master suite, dominated by the large four-poster bed intended for the newlyweds to share tonight.

But the bed might not have been there for all the notice Damien took of it. He moved straight to the walk-in wardrobe, where he collected a leather overnight case and started flinging the few items he’d brought into it.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘What does it look like? I’m leaving.’

‘Damien, let me explain.’

‘Explain what?’

‘It’s not how it sounds.’

‘No? You mean you didn’t make that promise to your mother?’

‘Yes, I did, but that doesn’t mean—’

‘You didn’t say you’d do anything you could?’

‘Damien, that’s not the point.’

‘Isn’t it? You promised to do anything you could to give your mother a grandchild. When it all went belly-up with Bryce you had to find some other way of doing what you’d promised, and quickly. And you found it in me.’

He strode across the room with long, purposeful strides into the large en suite bathroom. ‘What did your mother say?’ he continued, hurling toiletries into the bag. “‘As luck would have it, you turned up”’.

‘No, Damien, it wasn’t like that. I explained all this to you before.’

‘Did you? Seems you left out the best bit. You left out the bit about being determined to have a baby. Someone’s baby. Anyone’s baby. That night at the masquerade ball, you weren’t there for my benefit. You were trawling for a sperm donor.’

His words cut her deep, so deep that she was unable to respond. It hadn’t been like that…

‘My God,’ he continued, ‘when I think that I almost believed you. I thought all you wanted to do was to keep this baby a secret. And, no doubt, you did. Until you worked out there was an even bigger prize. You could have the baby and the money too. Money and luxury for life. Not a bad return for one night’s work.’

He lifted his head to look at her. ‘Such a wonderful daughter.’ He zipped up the bag, shaking his head. ‘Such a lousy wife.’

‘Damien, it’s not true. You have to listen to me. Please.’

‘Why should I listen to you? You’ve lied to me ever since we met. Every step of the way you’ve hidden the truth, pretending to be something you’re not, the shy virgin, the dutiful daughter. Well, the truth is out. You’re neither dutiful nor shy. You’re manipulative and devious, out for what you can get.’

‘I never pretended to be anything, least of all a shy virgin. I never said that.’

‘No? You didn’t have to. Those baggy suits. The big glasses. You looked like a shy little mouse but all the while you were planning with rat cunning.’

‘What? Now you’re blaming my wardrobe for what’s happened? Listen to yourself, Damien. You’re not making any sense.’

‘Maybe not but at least now I’m seeing sense. I’m seeing things I should have seen a long time ago.’

He tossed the bag over his shoulder and stormed across the room to the door.

‘Where are you going?’

‘Anywhere you’re not.’

‘But you can’t go, not yet.’

‘Why not? You’ve got what you wanted—the baby, a husband, somewhere your mother will be comfortable and well looked after. You’ve fulfilled your promise. You have no more need of me.’

‘That’s not true. I do need you.’

He tossed her a look of disdain over his shoulder as he headed across the driveway to the detached triple garage. ‘Why? Have you made more promises you haven’t bothered to share with me?’

‘No! But I need you, Damien. I… I love you.’

He stopped dead at the garage door, his hand on the automatic door opener and his head lowered as the metal door rolled up and away.


Tags: Trish Morey Billionaire Romance