He grimaced. God knew why he’d persisted in hoping she was immune to the same prejudices as her father even at that point. Or why, before that, he’d believed Thomas Ashworth was any different from Spyros and his father. He supposed he’d been blinded by gratitude because he’d given him his first proper job, because he’d been on the first step of the ladder to becoming the kind of man he’d sworn he’d become: a man whose life was worth something. A man whose family—mother, wife, child one day—would never have to suffer what Jason had.
But even so he shouldn’t have been blind, should have recognised that the only reason her father had promoted him was because he made him more money than all his other Ashworth Motors employees put together. Should have realised it wasn’t the mark of respect he’d taken it to be, that there was no way on earth Thomas Ashworth would even consider accepting someone like him as his son-in-law and successor to his company.
Not that Rion had ever wanted the latter. He’d always planned to build his own company the second he’d earned enough to go solo. But Libby—from the first time she’d looked at him with those wide blue eyes which hadn’t seemed to see any difference between them at all, he’d never been able to help wanting her. Even though they’d really known so little about one another, even though he’d always felt like a boy from the slums compared to her elegance and beauty, even though he should have known she was out of his league. He’d wanted her regardless—more than he’d ever wanted anything else in his life.
His eyes roamed over her. He hated the feeling of weakness. Wished that now he knew the look in her eyes was a lie, that she was just the same as her father, the wanting would disappear. It never had. Maybe it would when he took her again, one final time, with the full force of his need. Maybe it never would. But at least he was not in any danger of ever being so gullible again, of falling for her lies—so carefully engineered to absolve herself of blame.
‘Well, if you’ve always believed in me so unfalteringly, and now you’ve had the time to find yourself, what could be better than two weeks discovering whether our marriage can work, just as we agreed?’
Libby shook her head desolately. ‘Because you only want me for the good of your campaign!’
‘I’ve already told you. The fact that your return happens to coincide with this election is just a fortunate coincidence. Allow me to spend two weeks convincing you this marriage can work, just as we agreed. If I fail, then I will sign the divorce papers.’
Her voice choked. ‘I already know this marriage can’t work. You’ve changed too much.’
She missed his wince. ‘But we agreed that I had two weeks.’ He looked at his watch patronisingly, knowing she was only so outraged at the prospect of staying now that she knew about the election because it meant there’d be no chance of her keeping their marriage—so shameful in her eyes—a secret.
‘I’m afraid it’s only been a matter of hours.’
Libby pressed the heels of her hands into the sockets of her eyes. She wanted to run away as far as possible, so she didn’t have to face being blackmailed by the only man she’d ever loved, so she could forget this whole sorry episode had ever happened. She wanted to shake him until the old Rion rose to the surface, understood her, saw what he was doing was wrong, told her she wasn’t the one who had done this to him. But she knew that was like wishing for sunshine at midnight. That even if she ran she’d never forget. He’d never let her, because he’d drag her through the courts indefinitely.
Which left only one option. She dropped her hands and raised defiant eyes to meet his.
‘Then it seems you leave me with little choice. But I can assure you you’ll live to regret not agreeing to this divorce while you had the chance.’
She turned quickly, to deny him the satisfaction of looking her in the eye and giving some gloating response. But as she picked up her small suitcase, which she’d dumped in the hallway earlier, and began walking up the stairs, she felt his gaze rake over her rear view and decided a snide comment would have been preferable. Because she knew it wasn’t real, and that hurt most of all.
Rion sensed her telling hesitation and smiled, enjoying the sight of her bottom and her shapely legs. ‘I doubt that either of us is going to regret being back in one another’s company for two weeks, Liberty. The master bedroom is the third on the right, if you’d rather just cut to the chase and admit it.’
Libby swung round at the top of the stairs, her eyes blazing furiously. ‘Libby,’ she ground out. ‘And the divorce petition is right here,’ she replied, whipping it out of the front pocket of her suitcase and tossing it down the stairs, ‘if you’d rather just rediscover your conscience.’ And with that she stormed into the first room at the top of the stairs and slammed the door behind her.