A Price Worth Paying - By Trish Morey Page 0,39

this wedding night should bring.

A wedding night that should never be.

It was all so wrong.

It was all so false.

She looked out of the window, silently fuming, breathing deep, pretending interest in the buildings of the Platje de la Concha rather than look anywhere near him—at this man who was now her husband in name and who very shortly intended to make himself her husband in every intimate sense of the word.

And yet still not a husband at all. A real husband would marry you because he loved you. Because he wanted to be with you and wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

Not just because he thought he could get the vines you would inherit and get into your pants in the same deal.

‘Stop the car,’ she vaguely registered hearing, confused when they were still blocks away from his apartment.

The driver pulled in along the kerb. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked as he stepped from the car and held out his hand to her.

‘Making an executive decision,’ he said, his smile at odds with his tight features. ‘It’s such a beautiful night I thought we might both benefit from a walk along the beach.’

She looked up at him, searching his eyes in the night light, searching for meaning or another, darker, motive, but she could find none. And while it was a relief to know he wasn’t so desperate to get her on her back that he would head straight to his apartment, it was disturbing too, that perhaps he wasn’t as oblivious of her feelings as she had assumed. ‘Thank you,’ she simply said, because a walk along the beach suited her too, if only because it gave her much needed breathing space. She slid across the seat and took his hand to join him in the dark night air. ‘I would appreciate that.’

The car pulled away, the driver dismissed, as Alesander tucked her arm into his and led her along the wide lamplit walkway. The mild night air kissed her skin, whispering in its salty tongue, while a fat moon hung low, sending a ribbon of silver across the water. From somewhere came the sounds of music, the strains of a violin to which the low waves whooshed in and out along the shore. Beside her Alesander said little, seemingly content also to absorb the evening, their war of words and wills temporarily suspended.

He was right, she thought, as they strolled their slow way around the bay. It was a beautiful night, a night made for lovers, a night where the air held a note of expectation, almost as if it was holding its breath waiting for something. And that thought left her sad, that this night and all its romance was wasted on them. Because she had no expectations. Hers was an obligation. Hers was nothing to look forward to.

Although …

She stole a look at his strong profile. His was not a face you would be disappointed waking up to after the night before. His body was not one you would regret reaching out for. And then she shivered a little, turning her eyes back to the path and trying not to think too much about that night before.

The night to come.

Was she pathetic to feel so nervous? She’d got naked with a man. She’d had sex. She knew how it worked and where the various bits went. Sometimes she’d even enjoyed it. But that had been with Damon, and they’d been a couple for almost a year. She’d even imagined she loved him at one stage—before she’d found out he was happily having sex with her best friend behind her back. But they’d been friends before they’d become lovers. Of course there had been times it had been good with him.

But sex with a virtual stranger?

Sex with a man who had blackmailed her into his bed?

There was no way she could enjoy that.

And there was no way she could trust her feelings when she did. Intimacy came with a price, one she wasn’t sure she wanted to pay again.

‘Are you cold?’ he asked, as if he’d sensed her tremor.

‘I’m fine,’ she replied, wishing he hadn’t noticed, not wanting him to know anything about her, uncomfortable with the thought he was reading her body.

‘Then why don’t we walk on the beach?’

‘Take our shoes off, you mean?’

‘Unless you can walk in high heels on the sand.’ And his smile caught the moonlight and his teeth glinted white to match the spark in his eyes