Her Exquisite Surrender: Surrendering All But Her Heart / Innocent in the Ivory Tower / Full Surrender

Still had over her.

The maître d’ led them to a table and then bustled off to fetch drinks after he had handed them both menus.

She buried her head in the menu even though she had no appetite. The words were just a blur in front of her. She blinked and tried to focus. A week ago she wouldn’t have dreamed it possible for her to be sitting with Angelo in a restaurant. Ever since their break-up she had kept her distance both physically and mentally. But now she was back in his world and she wasn’t sure how she was going to get out of it. How long would their marriage last, given the irreconcilable differences between them? He had loved her once, but he certainly wasn’t motivated by love now. Revenge was his goal.

It had taken five years for the planets to align in his favour, but Lachlan had provided the perfect set-up for him to make her pay for leaving him. A man as proud and powerful as he was would not be satisfied until he had settled the score. How long would he insist on her staying with him? He surely wouldn’t tie himself indefinitely to a loveless marriage. He was an only child. He was thirty-three years old—almost thirty-four. He would want children in the not too distant future. He would hardly want her to be the mother of his heirs. He would want someone biddable and obedient. Someone who would grace his many homes with poise and grace. Someone who wouldn’t argue with him or question his opinions. Someone who would love him without reservation.

‘Are you still a strict vegetarian?’ Angelo asked.

Natalie looked at him over the top of the menu. ‘I occasionally eat chicken and fish,’ she confessed a little sheepishly.

His dark brows lifted. ‘You were so passionate back then.’

She lowered her gaze to the menu again. ‘Yes, well, I was young and full of ideals back then. I’ve realised since that life is not so black and white.’

‘What else have you changed your mind about?’ he asked.

She put the menu to one side. ‘I haven’t changed that much,’ she said.

‘Meaning you still don’t want children?’

Natalie felt the all too familiar pain seize her. She thought of Isabel’s little newborn daughter Imogen, of how it had felt to hold her in her arms just a couple of weeks ago—the soft sweet smell, the tiny little starfish hands that had gripped hers so firmly. It had brought guilt down on her like a guillotine.

‘No,’ she said. ‘I haven’t changed my mind about that.’

‘So you’re still the high-powered career girl?’ he said.

She picked up her glass and raised it in a salute. ‘That’s me.’

His dark brown eyes kept holding hers. ‘What about when you’re older?’ he asked. ‘You’re young now, but what about when your biological clock starts to ramp up its ticking?’

‘Not every woman is cut out to be a mother,’ she said. ‘I’m not good with kids. I think I must have missed out on the maternal gene.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ he said. ‘I accept that there are some women who genuinely don’t want to have children, but you’re a born nurturer. Look at the way you’re prepared to put your neck on the line for your brother.’

She gave a careless shrug. ‘I hate the thought of ruining my figure,’ she said. ‘I don’t want stretch marks or sagging boobs.’

He made a sound at the back of his throat. ‘For God’s sake, Natalie, surely you’re not that shallow?’

She met his gaze levelly. ‘No, but I’m convinced some of your recent lovers have been.’

He gave her a glinting smile. ‘So you’ve been keeping track of me over the years, have you, cara?’ he asked.

‘Not at all,’ she said, looking away again. ‘It is of no interest to me whatsoever who you sleep with. I have no hold over you. We dated. We broke up. That’s it as far as I’m concerned.’

‘We didn’t just date,’ he said. ‘We lived together for five and a half months.’

Natalie picked up her drink, just for something to do with her hands. ‘I only moved in with you because my flatmate’s boyfriend moved in with us and made me feel I was in the way,’ she said. ‘Anyway, five months is not a long time compared to some relationships.’

‘It was a long time for me.’

‘Only because you’ve been playing musical beds since you were a teenager,’ she said.

‘Now who’s talking?’ he asked, with a diamond-hard glitter in his gaze as it clashed with hers.

Natalie wasn’t ashamed of her past, but she wasn’t proud of it either. While not exactly a constant bed-hopper, like some of her peers, she had occasionally used sex as a way to bolster her self-esteem. But the physical sensations had meant nothing to her until she had met Angelo. Not that she had ever told him. While she had been totally open with him physically, emotionally she had always held him slightly distant. She wondered if that was why he had found her so attractive. He was used to women falling head over heels in love with him and telling him so right from the start.

But she had not.

‘Careful, Angelo,’ she said. ‘Your double standards are showing.’

His jaw tensed as he held her look. ‘How long did you date the guy you replaced me with?’ he asked.

‘Not long,’ she said.

‘How long?’

‘Is this really necessary?’ she asked.

‘I want to know.’

‘We went out for a couple of weeks,’ she said.

‘Who broke it off?’

Natalie found his intent look unsettling. ‘I did,’ she said.

‘So who have you dated since?’

‘No one you would know,’ she said. ‘I try to keep my private life out of the papers.’

‘Well done, you,’ he said. ‘I try to, but it’s amazing how people find out stuff.’

‘How do you stand it?’ she asked.

He gave a little shrug. ‘I’m used to it,’ he said. ‘My family’s wealth has always kept us in the spotlight. The only time it cooled off a bit was when I came to study in London. I enjoyed being anonymous—not that it lasted long.’

‘You lied to me.’

‘I didn’t lie to you,’ he said. ‘I just didn’t tell you I came from such a wealthy family. It was important for me to make it on my own. I didn’t want my father’s name opening any doors for me.’

‘You’ve certainly made a name for yourself in your own right,’ Natalie said. ‘You have twice the wealth of your father, or so I’ve heard.’

‘For someone who says they have no interest in what I do or who I see, you certainly know a lot about me,’ he said with a sardonic smile.

She ignored his comment and picked up her glass again, took a sip. ‘What have you told your family about me?’ she asked.

‘A version of the truth,’ he said.