you to share my bed. Simply my life and my home for the next two years when, with guidance, youâll be able to prioritise your values and decide what you really want to do with your life and how best to manage your future inheritance. Naturally, an annulment would follow,â he impressed gently, concerned for her.
He could see how her slender hands were shaking, even though they were tightly clasped together in an attempt to disguise it. And all the natural colour had ebbed from her face. His voice lowered with soft persuasion. âIn the meantime as my wife you would be protected from the likes of Sherman, men who would marry you for your money, exploit your open, generous nature and make your life a misery. Try to remember, your future inheritance is no secret. Word gets around and brings the low-life out of the woodwork.â
Zoe got to her feet with difficulty. She felt giddy and nauseous with the pain of hearing his proposal, featuring so often in her soppy daydreams, turn into such a nightmare. But she managed, albeit shakily, âAs a proposal of marriage, that sucks!â
She wasnât going to cry. She never cried! But her wretched eyes had other ideas and flooded her face with scalding, humiliating rivers. Scrubbing furiously, she shot at him, âSo by your reckoning no one could love me for me. Only for my money! That makes meââ her voice threatened to disintegrate ââfeelâfeel really good about myself!â
Her objective was the door. She managed six inches before she was cradled in his arms, the free-flow of her tears soaking his shirt.
For a few short moments Javier held her in self-loathing silence. He hadnât meant to hurt her. The muffled sobs that were shaking her supple frame mortified him. âDonât cry,â he murmured against the silky top of her head. He had to comfort her. Had to. Her hair smelled of summer flowers. âOf course youâll be loved for yourself, I promise you. You are beautiful, intelligent and spirited. How could you not be?â he impressed.
No more sobs. Her body had stilled within the circle of his arms. Poor scrap! He patted her shoulder blades, the avuncular intention somehow getting lost as his hands slid down to the narrow span of her waist and lingered there.
âI was clumsy,â he confessed. How soft and warm her skin felt beneath the thin fabric. âBut the thought of you throwing your life away on the likes of Sherman got me on the raw. You deserve better. Much better. I just want to protect you.â
Slowly, Zoeâs head came up. She could hardly breathe for the welter of emotions that were making her heart beat as if sheâd just run a marathon. When heâd said she was beautiful he had sounded sincere. He must mean it. And heâd been so quick to recognise how hurt sheâd been, quick to offer the comfort of his arms. More than comfort. She felt her body stir, the core of her melt; her eyes swept up to mesh with his.
Eyes awash with tears. Glowing and golden, damp, naturally dark lashes tangled. Lush mouth vulnerably parted, very slightly quivering. Was she still hurt, unsure of her own worth? A solitary tear slid down to the corner of her soft lips. He vented an interior savage oath for his earlier crassness just as a wash of tenderness drenched through him. This girl needed kissingâ¦
CHAPTER TWO
Z OE was having a hard time keeping her cool. She wanted to throw her arms in the air, punch holes in the sky, shout and leap all over the place. Sheer joy made her feel as if she were about to explode.
Sheâd got a silly grin on her face and didnât care who saw it. Her love-drenched, sparkly eyes swept the length of the lodgeâs wide terrace to where her brand-new husband was keeping a watchful eye on his father as he confidently coped with his walking cane and the broad flight of steps down to the south lawn where the buffet table was ready for the guests.
His
Dorothy Calimeris, Sondi Bruner