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“That works out perfectly for what I have in mind, then.”
“Was that my miserable life that you were referring to just now?”
A dark smile turned the corners of his serious mouth upward. “If you want to be publicly engaged to me, if you want me to act the part of besotted fiancé, first you have to prove it to me that you have enough guts to see through this whole thing. I won’t let you go back on it when it’s time for your part.”
“I already told you that this is...”
He shook his head. “My way or no way, Clio.”
She blew out a long breath, her aristocratic nose flaring with her struggle for control. “Fine. What do I have to do to prove that I’ll see this through, that you won’t have a hysterical female who’s dying to go back to Jackson?”
“You have to come with me to Christian and Alessandra’s wedding,” he said.
It was the last thing she expected him to say. The last thing she wanted to do in the world.
Coming to see Stefan tonight, she was still amazed at her own strength in managing it. But seeing Rocco, Christian and Zayed, seeing the disbelief and pity that would fill their faces when they saw her, she didn’t have the heart for it.
“There’s nothing you will gain by dragging me to Christian’s wedding.”
“That’s for me to decide,” he said, arrogant implacability in his tone.
“Stefan, listen to me. I’ll go back to Jackson tonight and pretend like nothing happened. Even as nauseous as it makes me to do it. For the next week, I’ll continue to keep my mouth shut like I did over the last few years and let him think I’m still the same, spineless Clio.” Just thinking of it made her skin crawl. “I’ll wait until you return from Christian’s wedding. That’s innumerable chances for me to back out of this thing, by your logic. But I’ll be here, waiting. Then you’ll know that I’m serious.”
“No.”
“Why the hell do you care if I go to Christian’s wedding or not?”
“If you want to start a new life, bella, why not start it with coming back to your old friends?”
“I can’t, Stefan. I don’t have the...”
“What?”
He reached out to her and pulled her hand into his. Immediately, her fingers stiffened in his but he didn’t let go. “Neither of us is going to benefit by lying to each other or by treading carefully, Clio. If this pretense has any chance to work, it has to be anything but between us. Capisce, bella?”
“Yes, but I don’t see the point in carrying the pretense forward to our friends, too. Will you lie to Rocco, Christian and Zayed, Stefan? Will you be able to?”
“If we want the world to buy into our shock engagement, yes. Leave them to me. You...you will not breathe a word to another soul what’s happening between us.
“With Rocco already married and Christian doing the same, the whole world’s eyes are already on the Columbia Four. Won’t be difficult to get them to buy that I’m following in my friends’ footsteps and looking forward to a happily-ever-after with the woman I adore.”
“I won’t be able to pull it off. Deception and lying have never come easy to me.”
“Don’t worry, Clio. You’ll be just as good or even better at pulling this off as any other woman I’ve ever known.”
“Stop insulting me, Stefan. I’m not one of your—”
“The jury’s still out on that one,” he cut her off without blinking an eye, without an ounce of emotion. “Think of it this way, bella. For us to begin a pretend engagement that the media and the whole world will eat up, we need to lay the groundwork.
“And what better way to start a lifelong love affair that will be the talk of the world than going to an old, mutual friend’s wedding? Every way I look at it, this is what we need to start our fairy-tale romance.”
A fairy-tale romance with one of the most gorgeous, arrogant, hard-hearted men she had ever met...it was a fate that would have sent Clio running a decade ago.
It had been the fate she had walked away from.
But joining forces with Stefan in this was her choice, she reminded herself.
Meeting his gaze, she nodded. “Fine. Let’s go to Christian’s wedding. But I have to see Jackson tomorrow.”
“No.”
“If I have to look through his finances, I can’t walk away from him yet.”
“Then I will come with you.”
“No. I won’t fall apart, Stefan. Not tomorrow, not in the coming days.”
* * *
“Where the hell have you been, Clio? You don’t answer your cell, you’re not at work... ”
Her breath balling in her throat, Clio stilled as she walked into the lounge of the flat she had lived in for more than four years. Jackson swept his gaze over her. Shock pervaded it and something else.
Pushing his laptop onto the sofa, he shot up and walked toward her. And Clio automatically stepped back.
Do not betray yourself, bella.
With Stefan’s warning ringing in her ears, she forced herself to not flinch as Jackson neared her. Her gut twisted and she wondered if Stefan had been right. That she was not up to even facing Jackson again.
“Clio?”
At five-nine, she topped him a good couple of inches. His gaze on level with hers, he cupped her cheek. There was no way to curb the shiver that spewed within.
“Is everything all right?”
The false sweetness in his greeting sent nausea rising through her. “Actually, I’m not okay.”
There was no need to pretend about her mood. She had not an ounce of belief that she could carry it off even if she tried.
Stepping away from him, she walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water.
His gaze was still on her but she let hers drift over the sitting area and the dining room.
Desperate to be loved, desperate to feel she’s succeeded at something...
Her chest was so tight that it felt like a miracle that she was breathing. Because everywhere she looked, there was no trace of her in the space she had lived in for four years. It was all either an extension of Jackson’s loud personality or the abode of a New York financier. Nothing about the flat reflected her.
How had she not seen this until now? Her fingers shaking on the plastic bottle, she took a sip of the water and forced the knot in her throat down.
“Clio, you left the party yesterday without informing me, you didn’t return last night except for that text. Where the hell were you?”
“With an old friend,” she replied, finally setting her gaze on him.
Not one strand of his expertly cut blond hair was out of place. He was dressed to impress in a charcoal-gray suit—his ice-blue shirt chosen explicitly to bring out the blue of his eyes by none other than Ashley and picked up at the dry cleaner every week by Clio.
He had screwed his assistant barely half a mile away from her and had the temerity to demand explanation of her. Felt not an ounce of shame or guilt. Not even a shadow of hesitation.
Had she made it that easy for him? Had it been so easy to mock her, to use her?
“Clio... Open that mouth and say something or—”
“Or what, Jackson?” the question burst out of her on a wave of anger. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and counted to ten.
The minute Stefan had shown her into the extra bedroom, she had collapsed onto the bed. Yet, sleep had evaded her, the awareness she had tried so hard to shove away descending on her. She pressed her fingers against her temple. “I don’t feel good.”
Instantly, Jackson’s expression fell, like a little boy who was on the verge of a tantrum. “Don’t tell me you have another headache coming on. Really, Clio, you would think you would have enough sense to know what triggers one of your episodes... It’s damned inconvenient of you to be getting one every time we have something important going on.”
Perversely, Jackson’s sheer lack of concern filled Clio’s throat with tears more than his cheating. “I do not plan them, Jackson.”
“Is that why you walked away last night while Jane and I waited? You knew how important that meeting was to me.”
“I was ill for two weeks, Jackson. A concept you don’t seem to understand because you dragged me there even after I told you so. While you were gallivanting around the world, I was here alone, sick with flu. I had barely recovered when you stormed in here and asked me to get ready for that dinner.”
A curse flew from his mouth and he almost shoved the cordless phone in her face. “Fine. Pop some pills. Call Jane Alcott, in the next few minutes. Make another appointment. And then call the Savoy and book a table for tomorrow’s lunch, I want this deal with Jane done. Like yesterday. And make sure you sound cheery.
“The old biddy asked me a hundred questions after you left last night. Looked at me as though I was responsible for your headaches. And half the time I can’t even understand what the bloody hell she’s saying.”
“God, show her some respect, Jackson.”
He glanced at her with such obvious disbelief that Clio cringed inwardly. Was he so shocked at even the smallest sign of an angry response from her?
“What is wrong with you? You have this crazed look in your eyes. God, you’re not pregnant, are you, Clio?”
“How could I be when you haven’t touched me in four months?”
The minute she said it, Clio blinked.
Was it any wonder he had walked all over her? The very way she had framed her question meant she had given all her power to him. Every aspect of their relationship had been his to rule.
Something close to shame crossed his face. Would he apologize? Would he make an excuse? Her heart rising to her throat, Clio waited with bated breath. And hated herself a little more for the fact that she did.
“That’s not my fault, is it?” he said, his gaze shying away from hers. And something monumental crumbled inside Clio. If there could be a sound for despondence, it would be the sound that she caught in her throat.
“Half the time, you’re unhappy with yourself, half the time, you are unhappy with me. And you have a hundred hang-ups about sex. For Christ’s sake, Clio, sex is not always about cuddling, and sharing dreams and words of love. Sex should sometimes be just bloody sex. Nothing wrong with letting go in bed. But you can never do that, can you?”
“Do you not care at all about how I feel, Jackson?” The pitiful question left her mouth before Clio knew she was asking it. The desperation in her tone tied with the almost hopeful note made bile rise in her throat.
It was like watching an alternate version of herself talking to Jackson, hoping he would give an answer that would fix everything she had heard last night, as if it could magically erase the ugliness of their relationship.
That infinitesimal sliver of hope was the most pathetic thing she had ever seen in her life.
I don’t trust you to not crawl back to him while I’m gone.
Stefan’s word pricked her and she turned away from Jackson.
Everything inside her shook, everything inside her wanted to fall apart and give in to the maelstrom of grief swirling within. But she couldn’t. Not yet.
Squaring her shoulders, she turned around and let the years of breeding that she had turned back on slide into place. She had been taught by the best nannies in England about holding her own even when the world around her was in chaos.
“I can’t call Jane today. I don’t have time.”
“Why the hell not?”
“I’m leaving for Athens. I have a hundred things to do before that.”
“Athens, Greece?”
A brittle smile curved her mouth. “Yes, Athens, Greece. Christian Markos’s wedding won’t happen in any other place, I’m thinking.”
“Christian Markos? The Christian Markos? You’re invited to his wedding?” The light that came on in Jackson’s face was unlike anything she had ever seen. His suddenly positive energy and the smile that he flashed at her added another layer of ice around her heart.
She meant nothing to him. Even though she had known it, the truth left her shaking.
“Why have you never mentioned that you were acquainted with him?”
“I’m not just acquainted with him. Christian is a very close friend.”
“That’s even more fantastic.” He grabbed the phone and dialed a number, Ashley’s she was sure.
Clio grabbed the phone from him just as Ashley said hello and clicked it off. “You’re not invited, Jackson.”
What had she ever seen in him, Clio wondered. How had she fooled herself so thoroughly when everything about him was so much artifice?
“You will need a plus one. And who else will you bring but me? It’s not like you have a whole lot of friends other than mine.”
Because she had built her entire life around him.
“I’m bringing no one. Christian and my other friends are—”
“What other friends?”
“Rocco Mondelli, Zayed Al Afzal and—” her throat clenched “—Stefan Bianco. The media is fond of calling them—”
“The Columbia Four,” he finished with a hungry gleam in his eyes.
Clio could almost hear his mental gears clicking, could see her pitiful place in his life extend for a few more months while Ashley gave birth to his child.
“Do you know all of them really well? Even that arrogant Sicilian, Bianco?”