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—”