'I think we should dissolve the marriage,' she said bluntly.
Perhaps it was the shock of a woman actually suggesting they end it which surprised him more than anything-for Xaviero had never been dumped by anyone. But an innate sense of his own self-worth meant that he couldn't quite believe it. He stared at her with a sense of growing disbelief in his eyes. 'You want that?' he queried incredulously.
She remembered what he had said to her just yesterday, when she had been dressing for dinner. How I hate this life. Well, now he didn't have to live it any more, did he?
'I think it would be for the best,' she answered carefully, praying that her voice wouldn't tremble and give her away. 'You've just said you aren't going to want to stay here.' The face he presented her was a cold, dark mask as she strove to make him understand. 'So what will happen? Imagine it, Xaviero. You'll go to South America to look at polo ponies as planned-taking with you a wife you only married because you envisaged that circumstances would be entirely different? And then what? You return to Colbridge and start up your polo school with the hotel all tarted up and me, the ex-chambermaid installed as its new chatelaine? Come on-it's a crazy idea. Laughable. Why, the press would have a field-day!'
He couldn't deny the essential truth in her words but what struck him was how ironic life could be. How determined and how level-headed her argument! His compliant little chambermaid sounding so quietly confident as she told him that their marriage should be dissolved. Her telling him?
Pride made him shrug, telling himself that it was ego causing this sharp pierce of blistering pain. What did she think he was about to do-start begging her to stay? Had she overdeveloped a sense of her own importance since she'd been using the title 'Princess' before her name? Well, she would soon learn another lesson-that Xaviero di Cesere was dependent on no woman!
He nodded. 'We'll need to think about how best to go about it.' Dark lashes shaded the golden gleam of his eyes as he set his lips in a cynical line. 'In fact, I'm wondering if maybe we might be able to bury the story in the good news about Casimiro's recovery.'
Didn't part of her crumple then, because hadn't she-against all the odds-been holding out for more? All he had needed to do was to show her something-some sign that she meant more to him than compliance and passion. But there was nothing. That icy inaccessibility was back and all that concerned her husband was the most diplomatic way to announce their divorce to the press!
'Perhaps you could let me know what you decide is best,' she said as she pushed aside the sheets and got out of bed. 'I'll stay on the island for as long as you think I should-though, obviously, I'd prefer it if that time was as short as possible.'
'Obviously,' he echoed sarcastically, but the sight of the buttery fabric clinging to her voluptuous curves was a temptation beyond endurance and he swiftly turned his back and slammed his way out of the bedroom.
Chapter Twelve
'CASIMIRO wants to see you.'
Cathy looked up from where she'd been studying the drawer lined with soft pastel piles of silk lingerie and debating how many of the sensual little sets she could reasonably take back to England with her. Or maybe she should leave the whole lot behind. Wouldn't it be easier that way? Easier to forget …
'Cathy?' Xaviero's voice cut into her thoughts. 'Did you hear what I said?'
Sitting back on her heels, Cathy forced a smile. 'He wants to see me? Why?'
Xaviero's mouth hardened. 'How the hell should I know? I'm not privy to his thoughts. He just said he'd like to see you before you leave.'
'Oh, right.'
Xaviero glanced at his watch. 'Everything's all been arranged. A car will be here to pick you up just after two. If there are any problems, then just speak to Flavia.'
She stared at him. 'You mean … you mean, you aren't going to be here?'
'To wave you off as the car drives away?' His lips curved into a cynical smile. 'No, Cathy, I am not. I don't do goodbyes-I don't find them particularly palatable.'
Who did? She swallowed down the sudden lump which had risen in the back of her throat along with the telltale taste of tears. 'So … so this is it?'
'Yes, this is it,' he said implacably, doing his best to ignore the bright glitter of tears in her eyes which made them look as blue as a Californian swimming pool. 'This is what you wanted.'
'What I thought was best.'
'And you're right,' he agreed steadily. 'It is. Every single reason you gave as to why we shouldn't be together made perfect sense. And there are positives, of course. You'll leave this marriage a considerably wealthy woman-'
'I don't want your damned money!'
'Well, you're going to get it whether you like it or not! No ex-wife of mine is going to go back to being a chambermaid!' he bit out.
'You can't stop me!'
'No,' he concurred. 'I can't. What you do when you leave here is up to you. You're on your own. But what I can do is to make over a house and an income for you to do with as you see fit-because I will not be accused of having married a woman and then leaving her in penury!'
Cathy closed her eyes. Of course. This was all about image, wasn't it? And ego. His ego. How he would be perceived and judged by the rest of the world. If ever she had needed convincing that her decision was wise, he had just reinforced it with that damage-limitation statement of his.
'Now you'd better go to see Casimiro,' he continued, hardening his heart to the sudden chalky whiteness of her face. 'He may be grateful to be alive, but his old monarchical attitude has set in-and he doesn't like to be kept waiting.'
'So this really is goodbye?' Her voice was a tremulous little whisper, the realisation driving a sharp twist of pain through her heart.
'Yes, Cathy-it really is.'
His hand reached out-and for one moment Cathy thought that he might be about to pull her into his arms. And if he did that-she would be lost. Completely lost. As lost as she had been when he'd proposed this farce of a marriage. So do it, her eyes begged him silently. Make me feel you need me.
Instead, he merely caught hold of her own inert fingers and slowly brought them up to his lips-his mouth brushing against their unmoving tips in a parody of courtly manners. She could feel the warmth of his breath and could do nothing to stop the involuntary shudder of longing which shivered its way down her spine.
'Goodbye, Cathy.' Their eyes met in a long moment and then he let her go. 'Now run along and find the King,' he said softly.
Somehow she managed to leave the room without stumbling-but the tears had started spilling down her cheeks and she took a couple of moments' refuge in one of the out-of-the-way cloakrooms before she dared head for the King's quarters.
A quick glance in the mirror at her deathly pale face and the shadows beneath her eyes bore testimony to the strain she'd been living under in the days since Casimiro's recovery.
During Casimiro's convalescence, her husband had spent much of his time with his brother-being close to hand as the King's health and strength had rapidly returned. He had also been making arrangements to travel to South America-and for a trust to be set up in Cathy's name, as well as a house in London which was to be hers. Her threats to immediately sell the pretty Georgian property and donate all the money to charity had been met with a careless shrug.
'I don't care what you do with it,' he had drawled.
And why should he? Her decision to leave had been made and Xaviero had accepted it. In fact, to Cathy's horror, he seemed to have compartmentalised her-it was as if she were already in his past. As if she had ceased to exist.
Only in bed at night was there a temporary type of truce when they came together for some pretty explosive sex. And, while Cathy had no real experience of other men, she had learned enough to realise that they viewed sex in an entirely different way from women. Xaviero could still enjoy her body and give her delirious amounts of enjoyment in return-it didn't actually mean anything, not to him. Whereas for her …
For her it was something else entirely. Every poignant and exquisite caress entranced her. As she gasped out her orgasm beneath his hard, powerful body she was haunted by the terrible knowledge that she would never know pleasure like this again. But she also knew that deep down her reasons for leaving were sound-and that Xaviero had made no attempt to talk her out of them.
Brushing the last rogue tear from her eye and realising that she was keeping the King waiting, Cathy hurried from the cloakroom to his offices at the far end of the palace, where an aide showed her straight in. Casimiro was seated at a huge desk and he looked up as she walked in.