Page 22 of A Diamond for My Forbidden Bride

Olivia

VALENTIN’SBLACKEYESglittered in the light from the candles in the hurricane lamps. There was nothing but fierce certainty in his hard, carved features.

Maybe it’s not Constantine you should be afraid of. Maybe it’s him.

But I wasn’t afraid of Constantine, and I certainly wasn’t afraid of Valentin. I was angry, yes, but not afraid.

The air was warm and soft and smelled of flowers, the light from all those pretty candles dancing over the wood of the jetty and casting a lovely glow. The only sound was of the waves lapping against the jetty supports.

The table and the silver service, the crystal glass full of champagne, the tropical setting...it was all so beautiful.

And so was the man sitting across from me in jeans and bare feet, lounging at his ease, his champagne glass held loosely in his long fingers. His black hair was tousled and the white of his T-shirt made his olive skin look darker, all smooth and velvety. It highlighted the darkness of his eyes and, even though they were so black they were like space, I could see the lights in them, flames burning.

Domingo was a monster and Valentin had been forbidden to see me. Domingo had threatened to hurt me. Valentin had faked his own death to escape him. I could hardly believe it. Or, no; maybe I could believe it.

I’d never liked Domingo. He had been charming but there’d been something about him, a kind of clinical detachment that had always made me uneasy.

But Valentin was wrong about Constantine. Yes, Constantine was cold, but he’d never made me uneasy in the way Domingo had. And he’d never been cruel, never hurt me in any way. And then there was Jenny, his stepsister, who worshipped the ground he walked on. Jenny, who was always so smiley and happy and cheerful. She’d never be that loyal to a monster.

But as for what Valentin had said, about keeping me here and me falling in love with him and him marrying me instead...

Something tugged deep inside me. A longing I thought I’d got rid of years ago.

But no. Marrying Valentin? What a preposterous thought. The passionate boy he’d once been had grown up, though he was obviously still passionate. But he was also arrogant, egotistical to a fault and it was clear that he’d never even heard of the word ‘no’.

He was a difficult man, just like my father had been, and if there was one thing I didn’t want in my life it was another difficult man.

And Constantine is easy...?

Well, no, he wasn’t. But I didn’t feel anything for him, I didn’t have a history with him, and that made all the difference.

‘You can’t be serious,’ I said coolly. ‘Are you actually insane? What a preposterous suggestion.’

His teeth were white in the flickering light. ‘Perhaps. You don’t grow up in the house of a psychopath without some scars, I suppose. But does it matter that it’s preposterous? For the first time in fifteen years, we’re alone, Livvy. And there’s no one to stop us from being together if we want to be, not this time.’

From out of nowhere, an electric thrill shot straight down my spine, going all the way to the heart of the girl I’d once been. That ferocious girl, who’d argued and fought and played and laughed with him on that secret beach. That passionate girl who’d loved him with all of her soul.

And I’d loved being that girl. Because being with him had made me feel more like myself than anyone else ever had. I hadn’t been silly or dramatic or overly emotional when I’d been with him. I’d been able to be angry without having someone tell me that I was turning everything into a big drama. I’d been able to laugh myself hoarse without being told to calm down. He accepted me and my emotions without question, and I’d loved that.

But there had been a weakness in that girl, in the end. A flaw in her supposedly strong façade. And it was the same flaw my mother had: our heart.

I’d loved a man who’d hurt me and so, no matter how much I’d loved being that girl, I’d never be her again. She’d been a child and I’d buried her when Valentin had supposedly died. I was in no hurry to resurrect her.

My instinct was to tell him he was mistaken, get to my feet and leave, but he wasn’t wrong about the fact that I hadn’t eaten all day. And, yes, maybe refusing to eat had been petty of me. It had certainly been a mistake. Because it was coming back to haunt me now, my stomach rumbling at the sight and smell of the delicious food that had been laid on the table.

An array of salads, fish and shellfish that had no doubt been caught in the lagoon. Newly baked bread with a thick pat of butter. It all looked so fresh and tasty, and it was everything I particularly liked to eat.

Had he known? Had he done that on purpose? Oh, but of course he’d known, and of course he’d done it on purpose. He’d just said he wanted me to fall in love with him, and I suppose this was the start of his seduction.

Which meant that, naturally, I couldn’t eat any of it.

Valentin put his wine down and leaned forward, his elbows on the table. ‘There’s dessert too.’ His eyes danced, full of the wickedness and delight I’d always found so irresistible. ‘I have marshmallows. We can build a fire on the beach and toast them.’

Instantly I was back on that beach again, arguing with him about the best way to build a driftwood fire. He’d been as stubborn as me and insistent that his way was the right way. We’d been twelve. I’d told him he was a dumb boy who knew nothing. He’d told me I was a stupid girl who knew even less. Then he’d kicked sand in my direction while I’d thrown a stick at him. Then we’d gone off to opposite ends of the beach and lit fires to prove each other wrong.

Valentin’s rages had never lasted long. They’d been intense while they lasted but, like a hurricane, they’d blown themselves out quickly. I’d held on to mine much longer, unwilling to let them go.

But that day on the beach Val had eventually come across to look at my fire and he’d smiled suddenly; it had been like the dawn breaking. ‘That’s amazing, Livvy,’ he’d said, as if he hadn’t called me a stupid girl and kicked sand at me not minutes before. ‘I couldn’t even get a flame.’

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