Ruthless Lover. Sarah Holland
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‘You know what I mean!’ she said angrily.
He laughed under his breath, watching her with steely eyes. ‘Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to avoid answering any of my questions?’
That made her catch her breath and look at him closely, deeply aware of that ruthless mind and the speed at which it moved. Her heart was thumping unsteadily and she realised she was under threat of exposure if she didn’t tread very carefully indeed.
‘Ask anything you want,’ she said with a sudden, curving smile.
His dark lashes flickered. He was coolly amused. ‘A dutiful wife,’ he mocked.
Their main course arrived at that moment, ending the conversation, to her relief. Her sole was delicious, light and very fresh, served with crisp vegetables. Nick ate steak tartare, one of his favourite dishes, and typically Nick, all that blood and raw meat.
‘So what do you do in your spare time these days, Serena?’ Nick deftly swung that lethal weapon back on her as they drank coffee. ‘You have so much of it. You must do something.’
She gave him a sweet smile. ‘I have cocktail parties, see people for dinner.’
‘Ring-a-ding-ding!’ drawled Nick sarcastically.
‘I like being lazy,’ she said coolly. ‘We don’t all have to run around the world axing people to bits and making billions of dollars.’
‘I don’t axe people to bits,’ he said flatly. ‘And without my billions of dollars, your precious manor would have gone to the wall. Remember that, next time you start levelling criticism at me.’
‘How could I forget?’ Serena said tightly. ‘You bought me along with the manor, and ruined my life!’
He gave a dangerous smile, drawling, ‘Well, honey, you sure weren’t worth the price!’ and her face went white with appalled realisation of how painful their marriage could become if they ever spent too much time together.
Suddenly, Monique Dupré was advancing on their table, ravishing in flame-red, her bony face and even bonier body those of an ex-model, now moved on to become the art critic of one of the quality New York papers.
Serena stiffened with jealousy and dislike. Her eyes flashed back to Nick’s tough face. Monique was one of his mistresses. She didn’t know how many he had, but she knew she would hate every one of them as much as she hated Monique.
‘Nick, darling!’ Monique purred, sliding red-taloned fingers over his powerful shoulders. ‘I didn’t know you were in town.’
‘Surprise visit,’ drawled Nick, standing up, cynical eyes on her red mouth as he bent his dark head and kissed it.
Searing jealousy flooded Serena’s veins like acid. Bitterly, she looked the other way. What else could she do?
‘Lady Serena,’ Monique said politely, noticing her white, tense face. ‘Long time no see.’
Serena looked at her with angry dignity. ‘Hello, Monique. How’s the art world of Manhattan?’
‘I would have thought you’d know more about that than me,’ Monique said softly, her dark eyes watching Serena’s face as colour flooded into it.
‘What on earth makes you say that?’ Serena said at once, her tone icy, then looked at Nick. ‘We ought to be getting back. The pilot may have called. Or don’t you want to leave now?’
There was a brief silence. Nick studied her with narrowed eyes, then said briskly, ‘Sure. You’re right.’ He beckoned a waiter with one hand, and stroked Monique’s bony cheek with the other. ‘I’ll give you a call, Monique. Take care.’
The limousine took them back to Fifth Avenue and their apartment. Serena prayed there would be a message on the answering machine. The sooner Nick left, the better.
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