Page 12 of His Wedding Day Revenge

It had seemed a fair exchange to Draco, and when faced with the choice he had offered the photographer had agreed.

‘Publish and you will make money but I will ruin you.’ Draco had not elaborated before he’d given the favoured option. ‘Hand over all the copies, and I mean all, no insurance for your memoirs, and your career will go stratospheric.’

There had been rumours circulating, obviously, but no visual evidence and nobody willing to go on the record. He was known to be litigious, which came in handy. He doubted anyone had believed his ‘mutual change of heart’ press release, but no one had actually challenged it.

‘I’m sorry,’ he roughed out.

Her hand dropped, and her shimmering forest-green stare was disconcertingly direct, almost accusing, which, considering he was the injured party, was ironic.

‘Are you?’ His face was blank, which she had noticed when they were together was his way of dealing with emotional situations. She had always imagined that behind his mask were real feelings he could not articulate, but now she knew he hadn’t said he loved her for the simple reason he didn’t.

Draco said nothing.

What could he say? Moments before he’d welcomed the idea of her being unhappy. He felt a slug of guilt and thought, Be careful what you wish for Draco.

The pain in her eyes was... Unable to maintain eye contact, he turned his head sharply. Her vulnerability, her fragility shook loose feelings that were painful in their intensity, but he refused to name them.

‘Were you married?’

She ran a hand across her face and gave an odd little laugh. ‘No.’

‘So being a single parent must be...’

‘A learning curve,’ she admitted, cutting in quickly. It wasn’t a lie, it just wasn’t the complete truth.

The silence stretched as he seemed to search for words, which had to be a first for Draco, as he glanced once more towards the toys.

‘Do you have family close...?’

‘I was brought up in care, Draco.’

The reminder brought the faintest of flushes to the slashing angle of his high cheekbones. ‘I know that.’

‘It just slipped your mind.’ Because it hadn’t been important enough for him to remember, she thought bitterly.

‘I meant a support group... Your friend Carrie, was it?’

‘It’s a good community here,’ Jane said quickly, not meeting his eyes in case he saw the tears shimmering there and biting down hard on her lip when she heard the quiver in her voice. ‘The village is a good place to bring up a child. In a big town, a city, it must be harder. The villagers have been great. I think they suggested me for this course because they think I need a break, that, and the fact I brought the news crew here.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I can see how it might seem personal but it wasn’t, though I think you’re owed an—’

‘An explanation?’ he suggested helpfully.

Her eyelashes flickered against her cheek as her brain froze. She ought to have a practised response, but she didn’t. ‘No, I meant—’ She paused, thinking, What did I mean? ‘I meant you can blame me for your bad press but that doesn’t mean I regret it, because I don’t!’

‘No, I don’t blame you for the bad press. I blame the incompetent site manager who decided to cut corners. He is the reason I have had to make a detour to the back of beyond, but he won’t be troubling you any longer,’ he told her and watched her eyes widen. ‘Don’t look at me like that. I haven’t put out a hit on him,’ he said, sounding amused.

‘I didn’t think—’ She broke off, a guilty unease settling over her. ‘You sacked him?’

Jane had been vocal in her denunciation of the man. She had called him all the names under the sun when she had confronted him in the quagmire that had once been beautiful and tranquil, but despite that she took no pleasure from the idea of his ruin. What did she know? He might have children, a mortgage... She felt a stab of guilt at her part in the imaginary downfall building in her head.

Draco shook his head in seeming disbelief, watching the expressions drift across her face. ‘I can’t believe you feel sorry for the guy.’

‘Not sorry, precisely,’ she countered, lifting a hand to remove an annoying recalcitrant curl from her face.

Draco’s eyes followed the action, focusing in on the fine-boned delicacy of her wrist, a delicacy that hid the supple strength of her body, lovely toned legs that could wrap tight around him, arms that could—

He tried to halt the memories but it was too late. Heat he had zero control over was spreading through his body, flaring inside him as memories surged.

He remembered hearing the harsh rasp of her breath as he kissed his way down her spine, the little groans as her face dug into the pillow as he slid his hand between her legs, the fierce focus on her face when he entered her and—

---