‘What about me?’ He was half-listening, half-asleep.
‘Do you believe in love at first sight?’
‘There’s no such thing as love.’
She stared into the darkness, waiting for him to finish his sentence, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, when the only sound that reached her ear was his gentle rhythmic breathing and the ticking of his watch, she realised he had finished talking. ‘You don’t believe in love at all?’
‘I believe in lust, compatibility, friendship—but love like in the movies? There’s no such thing, Tabitha.’
‘But of course there is.’ Propping herself up on her elbow, she jabbed him playfully in the ribs, but Zavier was deadly serious. Taking her hand, he pulled her back into his arms.
‘There’s no such thing,’ he repeated. ‘I thought I’d been proved wrong once, actually thought I’d hit the jackpot.’ His voice was detached but Tabitha could feel the tension in him as he spoke, and she listened intently, desperate for insight, for understanding. ‘For a while there it was great, but it was just a fantasy, like one of your fairytales. Louise never loved me. Sure, she was attracted to me—liked me, even—but that’s not the type of love you’re going on about.’
‘Just because it didn’t happen with Louise it doesn’t mean there isn’t someone out there for you.’
He gave a low laugh. ‘The other half that will make me whole? You’ve been watching too many films, Tabitha. I’m telling you there’s no such thing.’
His words tore through her—to hear him so cynical, so scornful, defied explanation.
‘I know Louise hurt you, Zavier, but to write off the rest of the human race because of one bad relationship—surely that’s a bit of an overreaction?’
‘It isn’t an overreaction. I can’t think of one marriage in my entire family that hasn’t been about money.’ He lay there, thoughtful for a moment. ‘No, not one—ours included.’ He gave a loud yawn, stretching his body languorously beside her, his arms reaching above his head then wrapping back around her. ‘Funny, I actually missed you while I was away.’
Stunned, scared to move in case she had somehow misheard him, Tabitha swallowed hard.
‘You missed me?’ Her voice was a whisper and she finally turned to him, but Zavier didn’t answer. His eyes were closed, his mouth slightly open, the sulky look on his face even in sleep. She went to get up, to go to her own room and somehow glean some breathing space, somehow try to add up all the pieces that were Zavier. But, grumbling, he pulled her back, his arm clamping down around her, his face burrowing in her hair with a low moan, and she lay there scared to move, in case the spell was broken.#p#分页标题#e#
If this was the hell she was destined to for her sins then Tabitha could take it. Pompous, arrogant, scathing he might be, but the occasional glimpse of what she believed was the real Zavier made up for it all tenfold.
Surely something that felt so right, so natural, couldn’t be all wrong?
CHAPTER EIGHT
SHE dressed at lightning speed for dinner, terrified that the intimate mood might somehow evaporate while he showered. But out of his arms, as she pulled on a pale lemon shift dress and strapped on her sandals, the demons that constantly sniped at her returned.
Of course he was being nice; he wanted this to work as much as she did, and keeping her on side was one way of ensuring that their audience remained convinced.
Walking down the stairs, he took her hand, and as they entered the lounge his grip tightened. They joined the group and it took only one look for Tabitha to realise that the sudden strength of his grip wasn’t about lending her moral support.
Jeremy Chambers sat in a wheelchair. He seemed light years away from the powerful man of just a few weeks ago, his face haggard and thin, his eyes sunken, but his suit was impeccable and there was an air of dignity and strength about him that illness couldn’t ravish, no matter what else it took.
‘Tabitha.’ He took her hand, kissing it gently. ‘You look stunning.’ He winced slightly as he let her hand go.
She knew he was in pain, but instinct told her that Jeremy didn’t want his pain to be acknowledged.
‘We’re thrilled to welcome you to our family.’ He turned to his son, hesitating slightly as he caught his breath, even the minimal exertion of greeting his future daughter-in-law a huge feat in his poor health. ‘How are you, son? How was America?’
No flip reply for Jeremy, Tabitha noted. Instead Zavier plunged straight into an in-depth report, reeling off figures as if he was giving a presentation. It was almost inhuman, the knowledge his brain held. Not once did he ask his father how he was feeling, and the wheelchair was dismissed as if it had always been there. Tabitha knew that was exactly how Jeremy wanted it, his face rapt as he listened to his son intently.