Rebel's Bargain

She watched his mouth form her name and a deep tingling throb began inside. Maybe it was the way he said it, in that dark-as-night voice, but something long forgotten stirred.

Poppy took another step back from the bed.

‘No one has ever done that climb, because it’s so dangerous. The experts say it’s impossible.’

‘Only until someone does it. Besides, if we’d succeeded the money we raised would have funded a new eye clinic and helped scores of local families.’

‘You risked your life for an eye clinic?’ Poppy knew he raised money for charity with his more daring adventures, but this—

‘Why not? Better this than as some commercial stunt for a luxury company.’ His voice held an unfamiliar note and Poppy watched his hand clench on the coverlet.

‘Orsino? What do you mean?’

He waved his hand dismissively. ‘Nothing. What I do with my time is my business. Mine alone.’

Wasn’t that the truth?

When she’d needed him, when she’d been desperate for his strong arms holding her, he’d headed off on one of his adventures. He hadn’t cared enough to support her, too busy taking on the next challenge.

‘It’s not just your business when it endangers others. What about your climbing partner and the men who rescued you? You were selfish to put them in danger.’

‘Michael is recovering nicely down the hall. He knew the risks.’ But the rough edge to Orsino’s tone made her wonder if, after all, he felt guilty.

Orsino raised his hand as if to rake his fingers through his hair in a gesture of frustration she recalled too clearly. When his hand touched bandage it dropped to the bed.

‘As for the rescue party—’ His mouth pursed. ‘We’d left instructions that no rescue was to be attempted if anything went wrong. We know how many local guides are killed and injured supporting foreign climbers.’

‘It’s a good thing for you they ignored your wishes.’ Poppy wrapped her arms across her chest, chilled anew at the thought of Orsino on the unforgiving mountain, buried in snow. How long did it take to die from exposure?

Suddenly he grinned. With his dark stubble surrounding that slash of white teeth he looked like a pirate.

Poppy stared, telling herself it was not a zing of attraction she felt. That was no longer possible.

‘I’m not complaining.’ His smile faded. ‘We knew them all from previous years here, that’s why they ignored our wishes. Bloody fools. If something had happened to one of them …’

He really was the most complex, unreasonable, infuriating man.

She wanted to despise him for his life of idle luxury but he risked his life raising money for others. She wanted to berate him for taking stupid risks but he’d cold-bloodedly taken on this challenge knowing he could die and demanding no one risk their life to save him.

Poppy sank into a visitor’s chair. No wonder she felt confused. Orsino Chatsfield was the sort of man to tie anyone in knots. But just because he had a social conscience didn’t mean he was good husband material.

Good husband! If the idea didn’t hurt so much it might have been funny.

She hadn’t thought of him as her husband in ages.

Yet there was still something about this man that burrowed deep beneath logic and reason. Something that had squeezed her heart till she couldn’t breathe when she thought he was going to die. Something that hurt like the devil when he accused her of wanting him dead.

He had the power to anger her and hurt her as no one else could.

Why hadn’t that died when he killed her love?

Poppy watched her hands twist in her lap and knew real fear. Fear that, despite everything, it wasn’t over between them. At least not for her.

She shook her head. It couldn’t be. She was stronger than that. Five years ago she’d grovelled, leaving pleading messages for Orsino to contact her. None had been answered.

That was how little she’d meant to him.

Since then she’d dragged herself back from the brink, facing the glare of the press, the curiosity of millions, slavering for details on their breakup, probing her feelings and watching her every move.

Unlike Orsino, Poppy didn’t have the buffer of extreme wealth to protect her. She’d had to get back to work, acting as if her heart hadn’t been ripped into bleeding shreds.

It had taken everything she had to rebuild herself, to be more resilient and focused than before.

She lifted her head and scrutinised Orsino. He pretended he still had some say in her life, but he’d forfeited that right long ago.

He had no hold over her.

All she had to do was remember that and ignore her body’s traitorous awareness of him. That must be some legacy of the past, a sense memory that would soon fade.

‘Are you still there?’ His deep voice broke her reverie. Was that a hint of vulnerability she heard? It would be natural given those injuries. But the set of Orsino’s firm jaw spoke of strength, not fear. Why would he be concerned if she’d left? He who’d deliberately faced death on that treacherous climb?

‘Why did you tell the hospital to contact me? And don’t give me that line about being your next of kin.’

‘I told you. I need someone to be with while I recuperate.’

Need not want.

Was that why his jaw set so tight? Because he didn’t want her but needed her help? Yet this was Orsino Chatsfield. He didn’t do anything unless it suited him.

‘Why, Orsino?’

‘Why not?’ he shot back at her. ‘Surely you owe me?’

‘Owe you?’ Indignation warred with guilt, just as it had all those years ago.

Her cheeks flamed at the memory of what she’d done to deserve his disgust. But at the same time anger surged. He’d never admitted his role in what had happened, never once tried to understand. If it hadn’t been for his arrogance and selfish pride—

‘I don’t owe you a thing, Orsino.’

‘So you say, but would those millions of fans agree if they knew the details of why we split?’

Poppy felt her eyes bulge.

‘You’re trying to blackmail me?’ She groped for words, her brain spinning. ‘Why now? Why after all this time?’ It didn’t make sense.

‘Blackmail? To expect a wife to take care of her husband when he needs her?’

His arch tone set her teeth on edge.