The Billionaire Boss's Bride(61)

He had done what he had set out to do. That was good. Leaving her with the impression that he had somehow, ludicrously, managed to get involved with her sister was a misconception he hadn’t been able to ignore in the end and he had sorted that out.

Frowning as his logical brain backtracked and fitted pieces together, he very nearly went into the back of someone at some traffic lights that had turned red. A minor interruption to his concentration. There was some link he should be making, he thought restlessly, some vital connection, and then as his car purred away at the traffic lights it happened and it was like being catapulted into the air at full speed.

Tessa was a commitment girl. She had said so herself. What she had failed to mention was what he was now figuring out for himself.

Commitment girls would never get involved with a man purely because it promised to be a spot of fun, no matter how powerful the attraction might be. He knew that in the depth of his bones and from the very summit of his experience. Women who seriously sought commitment wouldn’t even be attracted to a man like him. They might look, but they would never venture near.

Which meant that Tessa had become involved because… because…

The conclusion that he had been inexorably working towards now presented itself to him. She had fallen in love with him. Maybe she didn’t realise it herself, maybe she was just pretending to herself that, really, it had all been fun and she had got out before it was too late, but he thought otherwise. He thought that she had fallen in love with him even before she had slept with him and, subconsciously, her physical capitulation had just been the logical consequence of her emotional involvement.

He found that he was driving on automatic, not even realising where he was going, and was startled when his car suddenly appeared to be at his mother’s place. His head felt fuzzy, almost as though important brain connections had been subtly altered so that his responses weren’t what they should be. Everything was just a bit off kilter. And there was a pounding rush deep inside him, which he couldn’t understand or deal with. He just knew one thing. His narrow escape must have been a hell of a lot narrower than he had imagined. He felt as though he had been too close to a fire and had been singed.

Singed but not burnt. Lucky him. And tomorrow he would probably be fully healed and ready to move forward. He would have her out of his head. In a week’s time, he might even be seeing someone else, someone uncomplicated, straightforward and up for some fun, no strings attached…



A mere three days later, when Tessa spotted him in the gossip column of the newspaper, cavorting with a blonde, she made her mind up. She needed a break. The thought of seeing the new year in with Lucy around, puzzled and curious and waiting for the right time to launch into a detailed interrogation, just wouldn’t do. Nor would the inevitable sleepless night, heady fuzzy with thoughts of him kissing the blonde as the clock struck twelve.

She had to get away, right away. Be on her own in different surroundings. The familiarity of the house stirred up too many painful memories. The four walls were no longer her haven but her torture chamber, impregnated with his dynamic, restless personality, and she needed time out from it.

She didn’t even bother to tell her sister face to face. She couldn’t face the concern and the questions.

So she left a note on the kitchen table. She would be in Dublin. She gave the name of the hotel and the phone number in case of an emergency, but failed to mention when she would be back.

And it felt glorious to walk out of the house, with a holdall, two good books and no one asking her what she was doing.

The feeling persisted on the flight over, and even the reality of checking into the hotel wasn’t sufficient for Tessa to doubt for a single minute that she had done the right thing.

The place she had managed to find so close to New Year was small and cosy. She took a deep breath and filled her nostrils with the fragrant scent of polished wood and lavender. There were intimate touches everywhere, from the pretty furnishings to the pictures on the walls. She would shop during the day and then just read in the communal, oak-panelled sitting room with the roaring fire and clumps of deep, worn chairs. Read and forget. She could feel herself forgetting already!

It was a mantra she kept up for the remainder of the day, which was spent browsing in the shops, having lunch in a café where she watched the world hurry by under brilliant blue but freezing skies, and reading book number one in front of the fire. The couple who ran the tiny hotel were charming and showed no curiosity at her request to eat early so that she could retire to her room before midnight. By dinnertime, as she was ushered to a small table at the back of the discreetly lit dining room, now festive in preparation for celebrations later, Tessa was convinced that she was finally beginning to unwind. Maybe, she considered lazily, she would move to Dublin permanently. Start afresh. Forget everything and most of all forget Curtis Diaz.