Louise Fuller - Vows Made in Secret
- Название:Vows Made in Secret
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His eyes locked with hers and he sighed. ‘But I’m not going to change my mind, Prudence. You do understand that, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she said stiffly. ‘But, given that it’s probably not just your decision to make, I’ve decided it doesn’t matter.’
Laszlo frowned. ‘You think there’s a higher authority than me?’
His eyes gleamed with sudden amusement and she felt her stomach flip over.
‘I hope so—for Mr de Zsadany’s sake.’ Wondering again if Janos knew of her relationship with Laszlo, she felt a stab of pain. He was such a fraud. Why, if he’d believed himself to be married, had he kept her existence secret?
Forcing herself to stay focused, she lifted her chin. ‘Seymour’s is the best there is. Giving this job to another firm would only demonstrate how unqualified you are to have anything to do with the cataloguing.’ Hers eyes flashed challengingly at him. ‘I mean, you don’t even like art!’
‘I appreciate beauty as much as the next man,’ Laszlo said softly.
‘Really?’ Prudence retorted. ‘How do you work that out? The only time we went to see an exhibition together you spent your entire time in the café.’
Laszlo shrugged, his gaze sweeping slowly over her face until heat suffused her skin.
‘I can think of better things to do in a darkened room. You, of all people, should know that.’
Prudence stared at him, trembling, dry-mouthed; her body suddenly a mass of hot, aching need. He let the silence lengthen, let the tension rise between them.
‘Or have you forgotten ? ’ he murmured finally. ‘Perhaps I should jog your memory.’
He watched her eyes widen and felt his groin tighten in response. But almost immediately he closed his mind to the tormenting tug of hunger.
‘But I digress. I don’t need to like art, Prudence. I just want to support my grandfather and be there for him—’
‘Good luck with that!’ Prudence interrupted him crossly. ‘ Being there for someone generally requires an element of reliability or commitment, you know.’
She glared at him as his gaze rested on her accusing face.
‘Meaning...?’ he asked slowly.
‘Meaning that you can’t commit to the next five minutes.’ She stared at him incredulously. ‘Don’t you know yourself at all? Trying to pin you down to a time and place is like asking you to give up your soul or something.’
A slight upturn of amusement tugged at the corner of his mouth. ‘Ah, but at least you admit I have a soul.’
And then suddenly he smiled, and it felt like the sun on her face. Despite her brain warning her not to, it was impossible not to smile back—for it was a glimpse of the Laszlo she had loved so very much. The Laszlo who, when he chose, had been able to make her laugh until she cried. But then her smile faded and she reminded herself that this Laszlo had cold-heartedly used his power to avenge himself, regardless of the consequences to her or her family.
She frowned. ‘Life can’t always be improvised. Sometimes you have to do boring things too—like learn lines and turn up on set on time.’
Laszlo stared at her, a muscle working in his jaw. ‘You’re comparing our relationship to a film?’
‘Yes. I am.’ Prudence lifted her chin. ‘A very unmemorable silent film, with poor casting and no plot.’
She felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck as he smiled again and shook his head slowly.
‘I think your memory is playing tricks on you, pireni . There were some very memorable scenes in our film. Steamy too. Award-winning, even.’
‘For the best short film?’ she snapped.
‘I was thinking more hair and make-up,’ he said, his eyes glittering.
She couldn’t resist. ‘Yours or mine?’
‘Oh, definitely mine,’ he whipped back.
There was a silence, and then both of them started to laugh.
Prudence stopped and bit her lip. ‘Can’t we stop this—please, Laszlo?’ She saw the indecision on his face and for a moment she faltered, and then she said quickly, ‘It’s brutal. And senseless. We’re just going round and round in circles, and all this name-calling isn’t going to change the fact that your grandfather wants his collection catalogued and I’m here to do it. So let me do it, Laszlo: for him. For your grandfather.’
Their eyes locked: hers bright and desperate, his, dark and unreadable. She swallowed hard, trying to find the words to change his mind.
‘If I lose this contract you won’t just be punishing me,’ she said steadily. ‘Other people will suffer—people you’ve never met...people who’ve done you no harm.’
She held her breath and watched his face, trying not to let her desperation show.
‘Please, Laszlo. Please don’t make this personal. Just let me do my job and then I’ll be out of your life for ever.’
There was a tense, expectant silence as he studied her face. She wanted this job, badly, and he wondered idly just how far she would go to get it back. Immediately prickling heat surged through him and his groin grew painfully hard. He gritted his teeth, shocked by the intensity of his body’s response.
It would be easy to give her a chance. His chest tightened painfully. But why should he? After all, she had never given their marriage a chance, had she? His face hardened. Did she really think that she could somehow emotionally blackmail him into forgetting the past and the harm she had done to him? And what about his family? What about their pain?
He remembered the long days and nights spent watching his grandmother’s health fade, the years spent living with the guilt of not having given her the great-grandchildren she’d so longed for.
Prudence held her breath, watching a sort of angry bewilderment fill his eyes. The tightness around her heart eased a little: maybe all was not lost yet.
‘Can’t we just forgive and forget?’ she said softly. He looked up and she hesitated. ‘Please, Laszlo. I don’t believe you really want to do this.’
His face was stiff with tension. Slowly he shook his head. ‘Then you clearly don’t know me at all, Prudence.’ His mouth was set in a grim line. ‘I want to let you stay. For my grandfather’s sake, you understand. But I can’t,’ he said simply. ‘You see, I’m half Kalderash Roma. We don’t forget or forgive.’
He paused and his voice, when he spoke again, was like the sound of a tomb sealing.
‘And you’re still fired.’
Prudence gazed at him in shock, her ragged breathing punctuating the silence in the room. A sense of impotent despair filled her and then something else: a hot and acrid frustration that burnt her stomach to ash.
‘I see. So it’s not your choice.’ Her hands curled into fists. ‘How convenient for you to be able to blame your stubbornness and your spite on genetics.’
His narrowed gaze held hers. ‘I’m not blaming genetics. I’m blaming you .’
‘But not yourself?’ She stared deep into his eyes. ‘Nothing is ever your fault, is it, Laszlo?’ she asked flatly. ‘You just saunter through life, expecting everyone around you to take responsibility for the nasty, boring bits.’ Smiling bitterly, she shook her head. ‘I thought husbands and wives were supposed to give and take. Not in our marriage, though!’
She tensed as he stepped towards her, his eyes suddenly gleaming like wet metal.
‘So now you’re my wife? Interesting! As my charms clearly weren’t sufficient to persuade you of that fact seven years ago, I can only imagine that my grandfather’s wealth is a more compelling reason for you to belatedly acknowledge our marriage.’
Prudence glared at him. ‘How dare you? I couldn’t care less about your grandfather’s wealth.’
‘Just about my poverty?’ he said bleakly.
‘No!’ Biting back the hundred and one caustic responses she might have made, she shook her head. ‘This isn’t about wealth or poverty. This is about what’s happening here and now. About how you’re prepared to make everyone suffer—me, Edmund and all the people who have worked so hard to make this happen.’ She ticked them off on her fingers. ‘All because you’re so blinkered by your stupid male pride that won’t see sense!’
‘And you’re so blinkered you couldn’t see beyond my trailer to the people living inside,’ snarled Laszlo.
‘That’s not true,’ Prudence said hotly. ‘If I didn’t see those people it’s because you would never introduce me to anyone.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘You’re such a hypocrite. You didn’t want to be part of their lives any more than you really wanted to be part of mine.’
For a moment she didn’t reply. It was true. She hadn’t wanted to be part of his life: she’d wanted to be all of it. As he’d been all of hers.
She shook her head. ‘You don’t know what I wanted.’ She shivered on the inside. He never had.
Feeling suddenly close to tears, she clenched her fists, struggling to find a way past her misery.
‘Fine! Have it your way! I was everything you say and worse,’ she said flatly. ‘That doesn’t mean I’m not good at my job. But if you fire me you’ll never know. Until you’re stuck with a second-rate replacement.’ She paused and shot him a challenging glance. ‘ If you can find one, that is.’
‘Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem. I had no trouble replacing you last time,’ he said softly. He watched the colour leave her face.
‘I’m not surprised,’ she said hotly. ‘Being the grandson of a billionaire and owning a castle must have a lot of pulling power with a certain kind of woman.’
Watching his eyes narrow at her insult, she felt a flicker of triumph that blotted out the misery of his words.
‘It’s nice to know that you took your wedding vows so seriously,’ she snapped. ‘Having vilified me for not believing our marriage was real. Who’s the hypocrite now?’ Breathing deeply, she let her eyes meet his—steel clashing with bronze. ‘We could stand here trading insults all night, Laszlo, but this isn’t about our personal qualities. It’s not even about us. There are other people involved. Not just people, but family. Just remember how anxious your grandfather was to get started. Don’t his feelings count?’
She paused as, with a jolt, she suddenly realised that Mr de Zsadany was sort of her family too. Shock swept over her in waves. She stared at him, legs shaking, stomach plummeting. Suddenly she had to know for certain.
‘Is that why he chose Seymour’s?’ she blurted out. ‘Because he thinks I’m your wife?’
Laszlo stared at her calmly. ‘No. He doesn’t know we’re married. No one does except my cousin and my great-uncle. I didn’t see the point in upsetting everyone.’ His eyes hardened to stone. ‘Especially not my grandfather. He wasn’t strong enough to deal with it.’
She felt dizzy, sick with wretchedness. ‘I’m sorry. I really am.’ It sounded so inadequate, even to her. ‘But surely that makes this easier? My staying, I mean?’
She took a step back from the white heat of his anger.
‘ Nothing about you being here is easy.’
‘I just meant—’
‘I know what you meant,’ he said bleakly. ‘I know you better than you know yourself.’
Her misery gave way to fury. ‘Stop being so sanctimonious. You’ve just spent the last half-hour telling me how contemptible I am for not believing in our marriage but you didn’t even tell anyone about us.’
She glowered at him.
‘You don’t actually feel any more married than I do, do you, Laszlo? What’s upsetting you is the fact that I didn’t think our marriage was real.’ Biting her lip, she pushed a strand of tousled blonde hair behind her ear. ‘That’s what this is really about. That’s why you’re punishing me. Not because you really care about our marriage. If you did then how could you treat me like this? I mean, do you honestly think that any normal man would fire his own wife?’
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