Page 18 of The Return of Her Billionaire Husband

‘Not right now...’ She tossed the cushion aside and reached for her phone in her purse and switched it off silent. ‘I forgot I promised I’d send my mother a picture of Lucy and Damon.’ She clicked the necessary keys and the sound of the message pinging through cyberspace filled the silence. She continued to look at her phone, her forehead wrinkling in a frown. ‘Joe?’

‘Mmm?’

She lifted her head to look at him with a puzzled expression. ‘This email here that just popped into my inbox. Is it spam? It says you and I have been nominated for some sort of fundraising award. It says we’re Fundraising Couple of the Year.’ She held the screen up for him to inspect.

Joe leaned down to read the email, and then straightened to take out his phone and clicked on his own emails. He was copied into the same email she had received. What sort of twisted irony was that? Couple of the Year? They were no longer a couple. He slipped his phone back in his pocket. ‘No, it’s not spam. Remember I told you I’d donated on your behalf? And raised funds through various other means. I sent you emails about it but you chose not to read them. There’s a fundraising dinner in Paris next month. We’ve been invited to go and—’

Juliette sprang off the sofa as if one of the springs had poked her. ‘Are you out of your mind? I’m not going to Paris with you. It’s completely out of the question. Everyone will think we’re still together.’

‘So, what if they do?’

‘We’re not together, Joe.’ A stubborn edge came into her voice, her grey-blue eyes steely. ‘Just because we’ve shared a room this weekend doesn’t mean anything.’

Joe took a deep breath. No way was he going to that fundraiser without her. It was the perfect opportunity to spend more time with her. This weekend wasn’t enough. How could it ever be enough when he wanted her this badly? ‘Juliette. This is not about us. It’s about helping others who experience what we went through. If we don’t show up as a united couple, then how will it look?’

Her expression tightened. ‘It will look exactly as it is. We. Are. Separated.’ The emphasis on each word was like three punches to his gut. She went over to her tote bag in the corner of the room and pulled out some papers and came back to thrust them at him. ‘Here. I’ve been saving these for now.’

Joe’s gaze narrowed as he saw what it was. Legal papers. Divorce papers. A pain spread like fire through his chest, searing through flesh, pulverising bone, taking away his breath.

So, his time in limbo was over.

Juliette had already made up her mind. She had come to their friends’ wedding with divorce papers for him to sign. It was over. No sequel. No reruns.

The End.

A streak of stubbornness steeled his spine and his gaze. Their marriage would end on his say-so, not hers. No way was he signing divorce papers at his best mate’s wedding weekend. He took the papers off her and tossed them onto the seat of the sofa as if they were nothing more than yesterday’s newspaper. ‘I’ll sign those when I’m good and ready. Come to Paris with me and then I’ll give you a divorce.’

Her chin came up and her eyes flashed. ‘You’re blackmailing me?’

He gave a grating laugh. ‘Damn right I am. What were you thinking, bringing those to your best friend’s wedding? I thought you had more class.’

She picked up the legal papers and carefully fed them back inside the envelope. Her movements were calm and controlled but he could see the effort it cost her. Her jaw was tight, her mouth pressed flat, her anger a palpable presence in the room. She put the envelope back in her tote bag and faced him with fire and ice in her gaze. ‘We’ll discuss this again in the morning. I have a headache and don’t want to argue with you right now.’

Joe locked his gaze on hers, his own anger stiffening his spine. Anger so thick and throbbing he could feel it pulsing in his veins like a thousand pummelling fists. ‘You’ll hear the same thing from me in the morning. I will not sign those papers until I’m good and ready. End of.’ He turned and walked out of the suite and closed the door behind him as firmly as a punctuation mark.

* * *

Juliette winced as the door shut behind him. She let out a ragged breath. That went well. She tugged at the pins holding her hair up and shook her head to loosen the strands. It didn’t help her headache, nor did the thought of confronting Joe again with the divorce papers. Why was he being so stubborn and obstructive? Hadn’t he said being together again was the last thing he wanted? Or was he interested in a little affair with her until after Paris? She couldn’t allow herself to be used in such a way. She wouldn’t allow herself to be exposed to more hurt when he failed to support her in the way she wanted. Needed. He was all for helping others in their situation, but what about helping her? Supporting her?

When Juliette woke the next morning, after a fitful sleep, she found a note propped up on the bedside table, written in Joe’s distinctive handwriting.

See you in Paris,

Joe.

She glanced around the room. His luggage was gone. There was no trace of him in the suite. It was as if he had never been there with her.

Isn’t that the truth?

She gritted her teeth and scrunched the note up in a ball and threw it at the nearest wall. ‘I’ll see you in hell first.’

CHAPTER SEVEN

One month later...

JULIETTE WEIGHED UP the options of informing Joe she would be calling on him at his villa in Positano or showing up unannounced, to hand deliver the divorce papers. She would get those papers signed if it was the last thing she did. She’d had zero contact from him since Lucy and Damon’s wedding—not that she had contacted him either. Still seething with anger at the way he had issued her with an ultimatum, and the way he’d left without saying goodbye, it had taken her this past month to feel ready to face him again.

She was not going to be controlled by his outrageous demands.

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