Vows Made in Secret

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‘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?’

She flinched as he raised his eyebrows, his lips curling in disbelief and contempt.

‘That would depend on the wife...’ he said slowly.

He studied her face, noting the small frown between her eyes, the delicate flush colouring her cheeks. She was so disingenuous! His feelings about their marriage might not be consistent or rational, but at least he hadn’t deleted its very existence. He frowned. He should hate her—and he did. And yet his body was responding to her just as it had done in the past.

She shook her head. ‘You can’t use our marriage against me, Laszlo. Married or not, you never really let me in.’

She swallowed. Except when they’d made love. But there was more to a relationship than just lovemaking. Like trust and honesty and a willingness to share.

Sighing, she shook her head. ‘I get that your life was complicated. I even sort of see why you didn’t tell me everything at the start. But nothing changed after we “married”. You still kept me on the outside.’

She met his gaze, her hurt and anger clearly visible in her eyes.

He felt his chest tighten painfully. ‘You didn’t give me a chance. You barely managed to stay around long enough to digest the bread and salt we shared at our wedding. Besides, you’re just talking about details.’

‘Details?’ Prudence stared at him incredulously. ‘Details! Your grandfather is a billionaire and you call that a detail.’

She shook her head. She felt light-headed—almost dizzy. How could he stand there with that contemptuous look on his face as if he was the one who’d been tricked?

‘You’re unbelievable! You deceived me. And you kept on deceiving me.’ Her voice sounded jagged. ‘Not just about some tiny, stupid detail but about who you were