Love Islands: Forbidden Consequences. Natalie Anderson

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Love Islands: Forbidden Consequences - Natalie Anderson


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I expect you told the woman—the one you were engaged to when you slept with me—that you were in it for the long haul...?’

      To her amazement some of the tension left his jaw; he actually laughed. ‘Caro...?’

      ‘Was there more than one?’ she asked sourly.

      ‘We were never actually engaged.’

      This display of deceit sparked her anger into life. ‘I saw the ring!’ she exclaimed contemptuously.

      His ex had been wearing the ring in several of the photos accompanying the article.

      ‘There was a ring, granted. But it was a gift.’

      Anger boomed in her head like a pulse. She pressed her fingers to her temple and realised it actually was her pulse. ‘So she imagined the engagement, then?’

      Her thinly veiled sarcasm drew a calm response. ‘No, she invented it.’

      ‘As you do.’

      ‘You had to be there,’ he drawled, thinking of the nightclub Caro had dragged him to. With the music booming, it was usually the sort of place that he avoided.

      He’d even been amused when she’d transferred the ring he’d bought her to her left hand. Then he’d seen the paparazzi and realised it was a set-up—he’d been set up. You had to admire her ingenuity and she hadn’t even tried to deny it.

      ‘Do you know how many cookbooks get published in a year? Even the novelty value of me being an ex-model will only get me so far... Being dumped by a heartless billionaire?’ She had produced a mock sad face before delivering an equally brilliant smile and adding, ‘It will raise my profile.’

      ‘And sell books.’

      ‘Obviously. But I was thinking more of a TV show. That’s where the real money is.’

      That was what he’d liked about Caro: she’d never pretended. That and her appetite for sex.

      ‘So we’re splitting up?’

      ‘You’re heartbroken. I can tell. Honestly, I don’t want to, but a girl has to make a living.’

      He shook his head as the formerly meaningless memories faded. Now he realised that the implication that he’d been engaged had stopped Lily from telling him she was pregnant.

      ‘I was there, remember?’ Lily bit back. ‘I was the other woman.’

      He stared at her and looked thoughtful. ‘And that bothers you?’

      Her cheeks grew pink. ‘As a matter of fact, yes, it does.’

      ‘If you mind so much, it might be a good idea in future to ask a few questions before you jump into bed with someone.’

      Indignant, she sat bolt upright in her chair. ‘Talk about double standards. I don’t recall you asking me many questions. For all you knew I might have had a boyfriend.’

      ‘Oh, I’m not trying to occupy the moral high ground,’ he retorted. ‘Though I have to admit, skipping out while my partner is asleep has never been my style.’

      Feeling the flush mounting in her cheeks, she lowered her gaze and grabbed her glass.

      ‘It wouldn’t have mattered anyway. I had to have you.

      The sudden raw, throaty admission brought her eyes up. She had barely registered the dark feral gleam in his eyes before it was gone. Then he picked up the threads of their previous conversation as though nothing had happened.

      ‘So do you want me to be with you when you tell your mother or not?’

      ‘Tell my mother?’ Had she imagined it? The heat between her thighs was not imaginary.

      ‘Well, we’re not telling mine.’

      ‘Why not?’

      ‘Signe has been known to forget she has a son. I seriously doubt she’ll be interested in a grandchild.’

      It took her a moment to place the name. He called his mother by her Christian name. ‘No, seriously—’

      ‘Yes, seriously. She is not the most family-orientated woman in the world. Sadly I inherited that much from her, so this is going to be a learning curve for me.’

      The admission surprised her.

      ‘You sound like... Do you dislike her, your mother?’ He did not seem offended by the question. It seemed to her he was actually thinking about it.

      ‘Not dislike, no. We are not close and I actually admire her achievements. She has carved out a niche in the world of international law—small world, smaller niche, but she is the undisputed authority.’

      ‘She’s your mother.’ Lily was shocked by the objective analysis. ‘You sound as though you’re talking about a stranger.’

      ‘We don’t all get given the perfect family, like you had.’

      ‘My family wasn’t perfect. My dad...’ She stopped, mortified to feel her eyes fill with tears.

      ‘Sorry. I remember your father.’ From somewhere he retrieved a memory; it was pleasant. ‘One Christmas when we were staying at Warren Court, before I moved in, he taught me to fish.’

      ‘Did he? I didn’t know that.’

      ‘He was really one of the good guys.’

      ‘You sound like my mum. She always talks about the past as though it was perfect, glowing and golden, never a cross word. Truth is they used to fight all the time. I hated it—it made me feel...not safe.’

      She stopped before she poured out anything further. Why on earth had she said those things to him of all people? It was not even something she had discussed with her twin.

      ‘I suppose it is a matter of interpretation. For me it was the silences, the apathy when people can’t be bothered to fight. That’s when a relationship is dead. Conflict can be healthy.’

      She gave a snort of disbelief.

      ‘For what it’s worth your parents always seemed passionately in love to me. They sparked off one another.’ Before she could respond, he reached across and speared a slice of avocado from her plate with his fork, studying her face. ‘But then it’s not a subject I’m an expert on.’

      ‘Have it if you want,’ she said, pushing her plate towards him when he appropriated some more.

      ‘I will. I’ve not had time to eat and the only food in the house was a cupboard of tinned peaches.’

       ‘House?’

      ‘It turns out I have one here.’

      ‘Turns out?’

      ‘I had an uncle who lived here—you know about the Danish connection?’

      She nodded. ‘Someone mentioned it.’

      ‘He died last year.’

      ‘Sorry.’

      ‘I never met him. Signe is not big into keeping family connections. Well, I inherited the place and I never got around to putting it on the market. It’s in the old part of town.’

      ‘The conservation area?’ She had walked past the big old houses and been charmed.

      He nodded. ‘I’d invite you over but the dust is inches thick.’

      ‘So he was all alone?’

      ‘With a house full of memories.’

      ‘That’s so sad.’

      He was twisting the lid off a bottle of iced water. He had long, elegant fingers, deft and strong. She could remember how strong and how sensitive. Tactile images rushed in, threatening to drag her back. She struggled to banish them,


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