Bride, Bought and Paid For

‘I’ll take a cab back to my apartment.’

‘No,’ he refuted quietly. ‘We’ll eat, then visit your father.’

‘I’m not hungry.’

‘Opposing me just for the hell of it?’ Xavier’s voice held a touch of cynical humour, and she sent him a cursory look that spoke volumes.

He chose a restaurant at Southbank where the food was excellent and surpassed only by the dedicated service.

‘Shall I order for you?’

Romy offered him a speaking glance and pretended intense interest in the menu. Food of any kind held little appeal, although there was a need to select something, and she chose bruschetta, declined wine and settled for a nonalcoholic spritzer.

Lunch had comprised a slice of toast with honey, followed by a banana…all she’d felt her stomach could digest at the time.

There was, she perceived, nothing wrong with his appetite as he ordered a starter and followed it with a main. A dish she’d favoured during the brief time they’d been together.

Coincidence? Or was it a deliberate choice?

Like she cared!

Yet something tightened inside her stomach that he might have remembered a time when they’d shared food, forking a tempting morsel for sampling, delighting in knowing they’d share so much more at evening’s end.

Then she had been relaxed and in tune with him, just living to please and be pleasured.

A delicious tremor slid the length of her spine at the unbidden image, painfully vivid as memory resurfaced.

‘You’ve begun a new contract at a high school in the northern suburbs.’

Romy spared him a questioning look. ‘Your PA was instructed to determine the precise location and relevant details?’

Xavier lifted an eyebrow. ‘It bothers you that I did so?’

Yes. Although she’d expected it of him. Xavier had long gained a reputation for sourcing every detail, even the most seemingly inconsequential. Very little, if anything, escaped him, and heads were known to roll should any of his subordinates fail to deliver. Life and his climb to the top had fashioned him into the man he’d become.

‘Then you’ll be aware I have a contract to fullfil.’

‘A contract isn’t set in stone,’ he reminded her, and caught the way her eyes blazed blue fire.

‘I teach, it’s what I do,’ Romy vouchsafed.

He leaned back in his chair and regarded her steadily. ‘There’s no need for you to continue working.’

‘What else would you have me do? Become a social butterfly who spends her days having beauty treatments and shopping?’ She sent him a quelling look. ‘Forget it.’

‘You prefer attempting to impart enthusiasm for knowledge into young minds, controlling their behaviour, offering extra-curricular tutoring and immersing yourself in setting and marking numerous assignment papers?’

‘Yes.’ Among the students who slipped through the scholastic system, there were those who could excel, and she strived to give both at opposite ends of the scale her equal attention.

Statistics proved some would never make it, a fact which only made her try harder, to go beyond and above the call of duty.

‘There are those who baulk at the theory of learning, yet excel in practice.’

‘Such as yourself?’

‘The cut and thrust in the real business world, the challenge to succeed against the odds provides an adrenalin rush coveted by many.’

‘High risk, high maintenance.’

‘You neglect to mention the rewards,’ Xavier drawled, and she arched an eyebrow.

‘The mansions, houses abroad, expensive cars?’

A faint smile teased the edges of his mouth. ‘You forgot to include the women.’

She matched the faint mockery in his voice with droll cynicism. ‘Of course…women.’

‘There were not so many,’ Xavier relayed with musing indulgence. ‘And I ended each relationship before I began another.’

‘For which you think you deserve brownie points?’

His smile verged on the indolent. ‘You’d paint me as a careless rake?’

She managed a imperceptible shrug. ‘If the cap fits.’

A waiter delivered coffee, and Xavier settled the bill.

They emerged onto the boardwalk to crisp cool air and an indigo sky sprinkled with a light dusting of stars.

Romy retrieved her cellphone and keyed in a series of digits, gave her location and ordered a taxi. Only to give a startled exclamation as the cellphone was taken from her hand and the call cancelled.

Anger rose to the fore as she shot Xavier a venomous glare. ‘How dare you?’ She reached for the phone. ‘Give it back.’

‘A taxi isn’t an option.’

She closed her eyes, then opened them again. The temptation to lash out at him was almost impossible to resist. ‘I’m going to visit my father…alone,’ Romy asserted, sorely tried.

‘No.’

Anger pumped from her in a fine red mist. ‘What is it with you?’

He suppressed the urge to take possession of her sassy mouth and tame all that fiery rage into whimpering submission. And he would…soon.

‘Do you really want to do this here?’

Realization of where they were, in a public place, people out enjoying the evening air and, oh, God, the interested looks they were garnering…had a sobering effect.

Her scorching glare had little effect, and she stepped to one side and strode—as well as one could stride in stiletto heels—towards the main road. Only to inwardly fume as he matched her pace with an easy grace.