One-Click Buy: November Harlequin Presents (109 page)

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He was practically shouting, his voice rising with each word, and any hope Lily had of avoiding confrontation tonight faded. Her eyes were equally livid when she turned to face him, furious that he thought a burnt dinner was all she was upset about—that he could really think she was
that
stupid.

‘Where were you this afternoon?'

‘What?'

‘You heard.' Lily didn't even blink as he spat out his answer with a question.

‘What is this?' He shook his head and gave an incredulous snort. It enraged her—that he so clearly thought she didn't even have the right to ask, that he dared to think she would just meekly follow him to bed without knowing where the hell he'd been.

‘Your plane got in at three and you told Emma you'd cleared customs.'

‘So?' He turned his back on her and went to walk off, and if there was one thing Lily was good at, if there was one thing her time studying psychology at university had taught her, it was that when dealing with an evasive person, to form watertight arguments, to stick to the point and deal with facts. And Hunter was being supremely evasive, trying to change the subject, answering each straightforward question with an accusation of his own and, Lily realised with a sinking heart, lying to her. ‘You then walked through the door and said that customs had been hell, yet Abigail said in the kitchen that you'd cleared customs in five minutes.'

‘Where's the transcript?' Hunter sneered, ‘I wasn't aware you were taking notes of everything I said.'

‘Where were you, Hunter?'

‘Paying for your new dress,' Hunter roared. ‘Paying for your house and the interior designer to come and fix this apartment to your tastes. Did it never enter your head I might have to go to the office?'

‘I rang the office.' Tears sparkled in her eyes but she blinked them back, her voice hoarse with emotion but somehow strong. ‘You weren't there, so—'

‘So you assumed I was in bed with Abigail, assumed that if I wasn't on the end of the line, waiting to pick up your call, I must be out screwing.'

‘Where were you, Hunter?' It was the third time she'd asked the question, but practice didn't make it any easier. Each evasive answer he gave twisted the knife in her heart further. She was scarcely able to comprehend that just a few hours ago she'd been planning to tell him about the pregnancy over a beautiful home-cooked meal, to reveal that, actually, she loved him, that right up until a few moment ago somehow, despite the odds, she'd always trusted him.

‘Why bother asking when you've already made up your mind?' His blue eyes stared at her coolly.

‘You said that you'd be faithful.'

‘And you said you'd be fun!' He shrugged his shoulders at her shocked gasp, the anger gone from his voice now. She almost wished it back because anything was better than the icy disdain, his complete dismissal. ‘I guess neither of us really knew what we were letting ourselves in for.'

‘You bastard!'

‘Apparently so.'

He turned to go then changed his mind, anger back in his eyes as her faced her.

‘Did it never enter your head that there might be a reason
other
than that I was sleeping with Abigail? Did you never think that today's my parents' anniversary, that perhaps I was upset and went to the cemetery?'

Guilt tripped it's switch, but didn't dim her hurt—the impossibility of living with him, of only being privy to the tiniest part of him taking its toll now. Her voice was thick with emotion when finally she answered him. ‘How, Hunter?' she rasped. ‘How could it have entered my head when I didn't even know it was their anniversary? How could I have possibly even thought it when you didn't even tell me the accident happened in Singapore? Where you were today? You tell me absolutely nothing about how you're feeling or thinking or what's happening…'

‘I've just told you where I was. I've just told you how I felt.'

‘But look what the hell we had to go through to get there!' She was crying now, hot choking tears streaming down her face as she tried to face this impossible man. ‘I don't think I can do this any more, Hunter. I don't think I can carry on like this. I can't keep giving myself and getting nothing back.' And though it was a plea for help, for understanding, for them to somehow sit down and rewrite the rules they had drawn up, it was also a confrontation, because surely if he felt anything for her on an emotional level, now was the time to reveal it. Surely if he did want a new level of intimacy then now was the time to tell her, show her. ‘I don't know if I can keep sharing your bed, keep—'

‘Then do us both a favour and don't!' He broke into her heartfelt attempt to explain with such a curt, dismissive tone, such brutal detachment it more than served than its purpose. The river of tears dried up instantly as her shocked mind absorbed his words. ‘You know, I think twelve months was stretching it—even twelve weeks is looking untenable.'

‘So that's it?' Lily whispered.

‘Pretty much.' Hunter gave a dismissive shrug. ‘Emma seems happier, my investors are grinning…' He shot her a black grin of his own. ‘You've more than served your purpose!'

She'd almost told him she loved him. Lily could scarcely believe that just a few seconds ago even in the midst of an angry row she'd been prepared to take that gamble, to expose that last piece of herself to him. But with a few callous words he'd changed everything—his atrocious, immutable indifference, his appalling cruelty told her everything she didn't want to know.

She didn't say anything, didn't offer a response or a reaction as he shrugged his shoulders and headed for bed. The cold shock he'd plunged her into was curiously comforting, extricating emotion, enabling her to face the unpalatable truth.

Nothing was worth the pain he invariably inflicted—love not quite dazzling enough to blind her to the savagery of his words at times or the black moods that came from nowhere.

Numb, she picked up the mug he had been drinking from and sniffed at it, then, scarcely able to believe what she was doing, she rummaged through the kitchen cupboards, looking for what she didn't really know—alcohol, drugs, something,
anything
that might explain his behaviour. She even resorted to looking through his jacket pockets for evidence and then stopping. She couldn't go on like this—not just for her sake, but for the baby's, too.

She couldn't keep searching for an answer to a man who insisted there wasn't a problem.

Like a sleepwalker she headed for the couch and pulled down a throw rug. Huddling up, she stared out into the darkness, her hand on her stomach, acknowledging somehow the little life within.

Knowing it was up to her to protect it.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

‘H
APPY
birthday!' After last night it should have been completely inappropriate, but it was delivered in such an ironic tone that when Hunter sighed and sat heavily on the couch beside where she'd slept, even Lily managed the palest of smiles. ‘Abigail's going to accuse me of having a hangover again.' He massaged his temples, his blue eyes closed against the rising sun as he offered his apology—again.

‘I'm sorry.' He dragged in some air though lips that were a touch too pale and finally opened his eyes and looked at her. ‘I can't actually remember all I said last night, but I think even
I
excelled myself.'

‘You did,' Lily gulped, unable to look back at him, scared that she might forgive him and terrified that still she loved him.

‘Last night when you said you couldn't go on…'

‘I meant it,' Lily broke in quickly, scared she'd relent, that she'd somehow forget the pain of last night with the dawn of a new day. ‘Hunter, I can't do this any more.'

‘I know you can't.' He took her hand in his, and she knew she should pull back, knew she shouldn't let him in even a little bit, but somehow it was easier to hold onto him as she summoned the strength to leave him. ‘And I can't either, Lily.'

‘So that's it, then.' Lily sniffed, somehow managing not to crumble, willing herself to get through the next little bit without tears before she cried a river alone. ‘Look, I know we have to talk,' she said to herself more than to him, trying to draw a wobbly map to see her through the blur of the immediate future. ‘I know we're going to have to sort out what we're going to tell everyone, that sort of thing, but can it wait a couple of days? I'll be out of here by the time you get back.'

‘No.' It was Hunter shaking his head now, Hunter's hand holding hers. ‘After last night I can fully understand that you want to leave, that you want this to end, but,
please,
can we do the talking first? I know I'm lousy at saying how I feel, but maybe—'

‘No!' Lily snapped the word out and managed now to look at him. ‘I can't keep on doing this, Hunter,' she repeated, just so he got it, just so he knew there was no room for any more hurt. ‘I believe you went to the cemetery, but for four hours?' She shook her head at the impossibility of it. ‘And with Abigail?'

‘OK.' He screwed his eyes closed as she confronted him. ‘I wasn't just at the cemetery.'

‘Then where?'

‘Look, yesterday was a bad day for me, Lily. A
really
bad day,' he offered as if by upping the explanation he could excuse his actions. ‘And I know I've hurt you, I know I haven't been upfront with you, but I promise you there's nothing between me and Abigail.'

‘Which lie am I supposed to believe?' Lily frowned. ‘The one that fits best—the one that makes things more palatable—'

‘We need to talk,' Hunter broke in. ‘We both need to be honest.'

‘But I've been honest,' Lily flared, but it quickly ebbed. Her lies by omission surely counted, too, and she lay back on the cushion, gave Hunter a window of opportunity to continue.

‘I want you to keep being honest.' He was squeezing her hand so tightly it was starting to hurt. ‘I want you to wait till we've spoken before you leave. Abigail will be here in a few minutes—I
have
to go and sort out things for the ball tonight. I have to see this through.' His eyes pleaded for understanding. ‘Please, come to the ball, Lily. There's so much riding on tonight, I just can't let everyone down. Please, come and stand by my side, then we'll talk.'

‘I don't know…' She shook her head helplessly, scared of staying but terrified of leaving, too, watching as he reached into his jacket he pulled out a rather impressive silver envelope which she hesitantly opened.

‘Tell Abigail, thanks.' If she was being churlish she didn't care. Being pampered in a day spa was the absolute last thing she wanted right now, especially if Abigail had ordered it and arranged it as usual.

‘I booked it myself two days ago from Singapore.' Hunter dragged in a deep breath. ‘Please, say that you'll come with me tonight.'

She didn't answer him because she truly didn't know what her answer was. She was just grateful for his shard of sensitivity that when Abigail, no doubt indignantly, buzzed on the intercom, instead of pressing for her to come in, Hunter picked up his briefcase to meet her halfway as Lily lay there, wondering whether or not she could do the same for Hunter.

However thoughtful Hunter's gift, it wasn't the best choice for a pregnant woman in a state of high anxiety. Especially one who hadn't yet told her husband! Paranoid, she ticked the ‘no' boxes on the required forms but, reading the treatments on offer and the little information boxes beside them, Lily realised there was actually very little she could have.

The sauna was out, as were certain aromatherapy oils, deep-tissue massage. The list of what she couldn't have was endless so, settling for a spray-on tan, followed by a facial and having her hair styled, Lily tried hard to relax, tried to let her mind wander as skilled hands supposedly massaged away the tension. But no matter how far she drifted, it was as if there was an elastic band strapped to her waist, snapping her back to the present, to the issues, to the very reason she was there…

She'd accepted his gift and it truly terrified her. She could almost hear his silken voice as it delivered lies that maybe deep down she wanted to hear. She wondered if she'd be strong enough to adhere to the one boundary she had set, the one thing she'd asked of him. She didn't want to end up like her mother, eternally turning a blind eye in order to keep him, to give their child a father…Lily's head tightened in horror at the prospect, panic gripping her as she lay rigid in the chair as if she were at the dentist's—wondering for the millionth time how, or even if, she could ever break the news to Hunter.

‘Have you been sunbathing?'

Swallowing down a rather too generous dose of headache tablets, Hunter squinted at Lily as she padded into the kitchen wrapped in a flimsy sarong and frantically trying to locate the very sheer, extortionately expensive silk stockings she'd purchased that afternoon.

‘Just for a couple of hours.' Lily crossed her fingers behind her back as she simultaneously smiled and lied. She certainly wasn't going to tell Hunter that her healthy glow had been sprayed on!

It was hard to believe that something the size of a baked bean could wreak such havoc on her body, but even if she and Hunter had unequivocally proved that money didn't buy happiness, it certainly helped you to look good in your misery. Her hair, temporarily thick and glossy, and lashings of mascara and miracle eye drops had tired eyes falsely sparking—her skin, just as the brochure had
assured
her, beach-babe golden rather than keratin-tinged orange

‘You look
very
nice.' Hunter actually managed a complement without adding a backhander!

‘Have you seen my stockings?' Lily pulled back every cushion on the massive sofa. ‘I know I bought them…'

‘Sheer, black?'

‘No, sheer, neutral.'

‘Not guilty, then.' He attempted a smile at his rather pathetic joke but it faded midway, his fingers dashing to his temples, massaging them as he winced in sudden pain.

‘Are you OK?' Lily paused in mid cushion hurl, actually looking at him for the first time since he'd come home and realising the stupidity of her question. He looked dreadful—his face as waxy and as pale as the huge lilies arranged in the entrance hall, smudges under his eyes so purple it looked like make-up. ‘Hunter, maybe we should give tonight a miss.'

‘I don't think so.' He grimaced, downing a glass of water and promptly refilling it. ‘People are paying a thousand dollars a ticket to see the happy couple.' He didn't finish his sentence, just tipped his water down the sink, stalked into the bedroom and promptly peeled off his clothes. ‘Headache or not, I'm expected to turn up smiling—with you on my arm,' he added, naked, miserable and still impossibly sexy. ‘You're the draw card.'

‘Why?'

‘Because you landed me!' He managed a flicker of smile. ‘In case you forgot, I'm actually considered quite a catch.'

‘Perhaps,' Lily answered as Hunter stalked off towards the shower. ‘But, then, journalists don't have the pleasure of actually living with you twenty-four seven!'

Slipping on her dress, Lily struggled with the concealed zip at the back and then tied on her lethally high strappy sandals, before staring at her reflection in the full-length mirror. Strange that when everything was crumbling away she'd never looked better. Her dress was chocolate brown, elegant and simple, tapered at the waist, her expanding bust for once buxom, the spray-on tan, the glossy curls all giving the impression of glowing vitality and newly wedded bliss.

Hopefully the cameras, on this occasion, would lie!

‘Thanks!' Devastatingly handsome in a tuxedo, Hunter stared ahead as the lift descended. ‘For coming tonight.'

‘It doesn't mean anything,' Lily attempted. Just because she was there it didn't mean she was staying, but Hunter misunderstood, his answer just confusing her further.

‘It does to me.'

He actually held her hand as they entered the ball and she actually let him.

United in misery perhaps, but still united—and as they took their seats Lily was stunned at what he'd achieved, understood then the hours of work that must surely have gone into this night and why Hunter couldn't ever have called it off. Anyone who was
anyone
was there. Hunter had pulled an impressive A List out of the bag, who were sure to delve very deeply into their bottomless pockets. Lily blinked as she read the raffle prizes on offer and the price of each ticket!

Cruises and cars aplenty, even the privilege of Hunter Myles working personally on your portfolio just one of the goodies on offer.

‘I'll buy the whole book, thanks!' Lily let out a shocked laugh. ‘Are people actually buying these tickets?'

‘Let's hope so.'

‘Hunter!' Abigail's perfume was as heavy as her make-up, and Lily felt her stomach tighten as her nemesis placed a possessive hand on Hunter's shoulder and whispered in his ear. ‘Sorry to drag him away from you.' Abigail added as Hunter stood up. ‘But that's what happens, I'm afraid, when you're sitting next to the host.'

‘I shouldn't be long. I just need to—'

‘It's fine,' Lily interrupted, bracing herself for an evening spent on the outside of Emma and Jim's love bubble, without even the solace of a single glass of wine. But Emma remembered her manners, disengaging herself from Jim's loving gaze momentarily and turning to Lily.

‘You…' she beamed ‘…are the very first to know!' Thrusting her hand under Lily's nose, Lily wasn't sure which was brighter—the gorgeous diamond or Emma's smile. ‘He asked me this evening! Oh, Lily, I can't believe it.'

‘Congratulations!' It sounded so paltry, but it was so,
so
heartfelt. Lily's eyes filled up with tears as she stared at the happy couple.

Love really did exist—because here it was for everyone to see.

Despite her doubts, despite her utter refusal to believe in it, somehow, looking at Emma, looking at her cousin Jim, proud and shy beside her, Lily knew she'd been very wrong.

Real love did exist—real love really could last a lifetime.

If it was bridged from both sides.

She loved Hunter.

There and then Lily admitted what she'd long known.

From the second he'd swept into her life she'd loved him, only he'd made it clear from the start that it could never happen and she'd been stupid enough to think she could play along. She'd clicked
I accept
on the hypothetical twelve-month contract without ever considering the small print—she was the one who had broken the rules.

‘Sorry to keep disappearing!' He didn't sound remotely so, his distraction evident as he smoothed the evening along, working the tables, delivering a rousing speech with such impeccable wit and timing that even Lily was left reeling, wondering how on earth he managed it all. But when the tables had been cleared, when a very perfunctory dance had been all she'd been awarded by the master, when the other couples at the table were up dancing and even Emma and Jim were running out of polite conversation, Lily's patience started to run out.

Just where the hell was he?

Staring beyond Emma, her eyes working the room to find him, with a jolt she saw
them
by the door. She watched as Hunter lowered his head to talk to Abigail, saw her red talons wrap around his arm as she gave him a tender squeeze, her beautiful, cunning face smiling tenderly at him. Lily felt the knife inside her twist further as, in an intimate gesture, Abigail stroked his hair back from his forehead, touched him in a way surely only a lover would.

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