Tabitha let out a nervous giggle that was completely out of place given the animosity between them. ‘I’m hardly Amy Dellier.’
‘You’re ten of Amy Dellier,’ Zavier spat. ‘And if Aiden had an ounce of testosterone in him just what the hell was he doing holding his whisky glass instead of you?’
‘If you know he’s gay then I don’t see why you’re so angry. Surely you know I can’t be after him for his money…’
‘Oh, spare me the speeches,’ Zavier spat. ‘Do you really think yours would be the first marriage of convenience? And I’m not talking about the general population either. The whole Chambers family tree is littered with rotten apples—sweet little things on the outside, rotten greedy gold-diggers on the inside.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ Her voice was rising now, her shame at having slept with him wrestling with her anger at the way she was being treated and, worst of all, her cringing embarrassment at how easily she had let him in, at the side of her she had so readily exposed.
‘Take this wedding, my cousin Simone…’ He threw his hands up in the air in a wildly exaggerated gesture. ‘Love’s young dream, my foot.’ He looked at her bemused face. ‘You want an example closer to home? My parents, then.’
‘But—but they seem so happy,’ Tabitha stammered.
‘Happy, yes. Married, yes. But happily married is another thing entirely. And if you think I’m going to let you get your claws into Aiden you can think again.’
‘He was joking,’ Tabitha pleaded, but it fell on deaf ears.
‘No, he wasn’t, Tabitha,’ Zavier said darkly. ‘For all his arty ways, for all the alternative lifestyle you and Aiden insist on living, you’re both as shallow as it comes. You can buck the system all you want but you still like your bills paid, you still like your little luxuries—and what a luxurious life it would be,’ he sneered. ‘How respectable Mrs Tabitha Chambers would be once her gambling debts were paid off. I can see you now at bridge parties, or at the Melbourne Cup. Far less sordid than the places you probably frequent now. The only problem with that little scenario is you’re a hot little thing.’ He moved closer now, his breath warm on her already scorching cheeks. ‘The gambling tables aren’t the only place you get your kicks, are they?’
‘You don’t know what you’re saying.’ Her voice was strangled, a strained whisper, yet she couldn’t move, standing frozen like a rabbit trapped in headlights.
‘Oh, yes, I do. You’d have to take a lover—discreetly, of course. Was that what this was about? Some sort of audition to see if I have the staying power to sustain you through a lonely loveless marriage?’
‘Of course not.’
He dismissed her response with a toss of his head. ‘I assume I passed.’
‘You assume one hell of a lot,’ Tabitha flared. ‘You know what? I actually feel sorry for you. You’re so sure everyone’s out for your money, so sure we’re all as hard as you. Is it so hard to believe in happily-ever-after?’
‘After what?’
For a second she thought he was being facetious.
‘After what?’ he demanded again.
Still she thought he was joking, but on closer inspection he looked genuinely perplexed. ‘Happily ever after,’ she repeated, but still there was no reaction to indicate he understood. ‘Like in the fairytales. Didn’t your mother read you bedtime stories?’#p#分页标题#e#
Zavier laughed, but there was no humour behind it. ‘You’ve met my mother. Can you really imagine her tucking us in with some namby-pamby fairytale?’
It had never entered her head that she might feel sorry for Zavier Chambers. After all, he had everything she didn’t—money, power, parents. And yet…Looking over at his haughty face, his brooding eyes, Tabitha was assailed with a sudden tidal wave of sympathy. Sure, she had only had her parents for seven years, but she wouldn’t trade her memories for a lifetime of Marjory and Jeremy—tucked up in bed with her mother reading aloud as she took her on journeys to castles and princes and happy endings. A world where the good guy always won.
‘You’ve got it all wrong,’ Tabitha said, but more gently this time.
‘Oh, I don’t think so.’
Picking up her dress, he flashed one more look at the designer label before throwing it towards her.
‘Stay away from my family, Tabitha Reece. You make me sick.’
CHAPTER FOUR
DANCING had always been her escape. So much more than a job, so much more than a means to an end. The throbbing music, the darkened audience, the sensual smell of bodies dancing, writhing. Losing herself to the rhythm, living only for the moment, the world on hold till the heavy dusty curtain descended.