Page 164 of Modern Romance Collection February 2025, 5-8

‘Is what true?’ he said, playing for time.

He could see in her eyes that they both knew it.

‘You knew that your mother would sell the manor and chuck Mum out of her home if I came here with you.’

She looked at him, willing him to say it was a silly misunderstanding.

‘I wasn’t sure she’d go through with it.’

His words sucked all the hope out of her body.

‘You weren’t sure?’ she echoed, feeling sick as she searched his face, even now hoping for a sign of contrition. But there wasn’t not even a hint. ‘So you knew it was a possibility and you didn’t care? You just had to show her and your entire family who was boss.’ She shuddered. ‘It makes you just like them.’

He took a step towards her. ‘No, Clemmie, that is not how it is. Let me explain...’

‘Save yourself the bother. I am not interested in anything you have to say!’

It was the contempt and hurt shining in her green eyes that cut him like a blade, not her words.

‘Clemmie...’

He went to take her hands but she moved away. As her back made contact with the massive iron-studded door there was a loud urgent banging from the other side.

Clemmie stepped away.

His jaw taut, he wrenched open the door. The exchange in Spanish was short.

When the visitor left, Joaquin turned to her. He studied her face for a moment.

‘I have to go. My father has had, they think, a stroke. He was in bed, and he wasn’t alone.’

He delivered the information in a bleak monotone.

This time when he reached for her arm she didn’t pull away. She struggled to reconcile the opposing desires to wrap her arms around him and to hate him.

To punish him for punching a hole in her heart with his betrayal.

To punish him for not being the man who, in a world where bad things happened, was the one person she could always rely on.

The man she had grown to love.

It felt like a bereavement.

His face was grave as he reached down and blotted the tear that was running down her cheek.

‘Just promise me... Don’t do anything or go anywhere until I get back. I can explain.’

She gave a futile little shrug as the fire went out of her like a snuffed candle.

‘Where could I go?’

The sense of isolation she felt was total.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

WHENHELEFT,she found she was shivering. Instinctively she reached for the jacket he had thrown over the back of a chair. She lifted it to her face and inhaled. The scent of him filled her head and slowed her rapid heartbeat.

It was crazy to take comfort from something that belonged to the person responsible for her misery.

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