meant carry on as we are one day at a time. Or a week at a time, if you prefer. Obviously there won’t be the same financial terms, but I’m happy to give you an allowance.’
She felt dizzy; her breathing was all wrong—jerky and out of time. For a moment she felt flattened. Earlier, standing by his side in that beautiful gilded room, she had actually started to believe in them...in their future. But now she realised that whatever future they might have had it had ended before it had ever begun.
‘A week at a time...?’ she echoed. Her heart seemed to be shrinking, its beat slowing. Was he actually offering to keep her on as his mistress on a weekly basis?
‘If you prefer.’ He shrugged. ‘We can see how it goes.’
She nodded mechanically, unable to speak. And then, glancing down, she realised he was still holding her by the waist. Breathing in, she reached down and pushed his hands away.
‘You utter bastard,’ she said slowly. ‘What is wrong with you? How can you sit there and suggest this? That I be your mistress on some kind of zero-hours contract like I’m a chambermaid?’ She shook her head; her stomach was churning.
His eyes were cold. ‘You’re being irrational. I’m simply offering the same deal with slightly modified terms. If it’s the money that’s a problem—’
‘Go to hell!’ she snarled. Her hands curling into fists, she took a step backwards. ‘I can’t believe this,’ she whispered. ‘I actually thought we could try again. That we could give our marriage a second chance. I must have been out of my mind.’
‘If you thought I was going to renew my vows to a woman who slept with me for money, then I’d have to agree with you,’ he said coldly.
Stepping forward, she slapped him across the face.
For a moment there was no sound except the distant downtown traffic and her frantic, uneven breathing.
Her eyes were wide and stunned, as though he had slapped her. ‘I can’t do this any more. I know loving you is hard. I did it before and it nearly broke me. I wanted to keep fighting for us. But I can’t. I’ve got to think of myself now, and you will never give me what I need—how can you? You don’t have it to give, Malachi.’
He took a step towards her, his eyes fixed on her face. ‘You need to calm down.’
She stared at him, her whole body trembling. ‘No. I need to leave.’
Turning, she began to walk, then run towards the staircase.
‘We have a deal, Addie.’ His voice was like ice.
Her foot was on the top step as she turned to face him. ‘So sue me. And while you’re at it you can divorce me too.’
And, grabbing hold of the rail, she ran lightly down the stairs.
STORMING BACK INTO the suite, Addie stared wildly around the elegant room, blind to its beauty. Tears of anger and disbelief were burning her throat and she barely knew what she was doing. All her efforts, every thought, every breath, were concentrated on one goal. Getting as far away as possible from the man who had broken her heart for the second time.
Even though it meant she would never see him again.
A wave of misery hit her head-on and she had to press her hand over her mouth to stop herself from crying out loud. For one mad moment she thought about running back upstairs to tell him she’d changed her mind.
But if she stayed, if she accepted his offer, what did she think was going to happen?
Surely she didn’t actually believe that Malachi was going to wake up one morning and miraculously be in love with her? If love meant honesty and trust and sharing more than just bodies then he didn’t know how to love. Seeing him with his parents, feeling his pain and confusion after their party, had felt like a defining moment in their relationship. As if from then on things would be different between them. Only it could never be any different. She saw that now—saw that he was way too damaged, too detached, ever to love her as she needed to be loved.
His insulting offer to renew their ‘deal’ had simply made that fact undeniable.
She let out a long, slow breath. Facing the facts, while not pleasant, at least made her options clear. She had made a mistake—a stupid, humiliating mistake—by agreeing to his stupid, humiliating deal. But at least she had only traded sex for money. To stay would be a far bigger mistake, for she would be trading her self-respect for a bunch of worthless dreams.
She wasn’t going to give her heart to a man who thought a woman’s role was to look beautiful and glamorous and provide sex. Nor was she going to shed any more tears.
Catching sight of her handbag, she snatched it up gratefully. It had everything she needed: money, and most important, her passport. She wanted nothing else—not even her own clothes; all of them were unwearable now anyway—sullied by that horrible, insulting offer he’d made to her.
Stepping into the waiting lift, she squared her shoulders. But as the lift slid slowly to a stop she felt some of her bravado fade. Now what? She couldn’t just sit around in the reception area. But the hotel was nowhere near the airport. And although she might have braved public transport during daylight, she didn’t feel confident about tackling the metro on her own in the early hours of the morning.
There was no avoiding it. She was going to have to speak to someone at the main desk about ordering a taxi. She certainly wasn’t going to get to the airport otherwise. Her chest tightened. But there was no other way.
She walked quickly across the foyer. Behind the desk, the young receptionist looked up from her computer screen and smiled, and said in near perfect English, ‘Good morning. My name is Carolina. How may I help you?’
Addie was about to reply when the girl’s smile faded, a blush colouring her cheeks and brow. ‘I’m so sorry. It’s Ms Farrell, isn’t it? You’re staying in the Cruz-Rojas suite with Mr King.’
Nodding, Addie gripped the edge of the desk and forced herself to smile.
‘Yes. That’s right.’ Horrified that the girl might be about to start asking questions about her stay, she said quickly, ‘I wonder, would it be possible for you to order a taxi for me? To take me to the airport?’
Her lungs seemed to shrivel inside her chest as the girl shook her head apologetically. ‘I’m sorry, Miss Farrell. We don’t actually use taxis at this hotel. Most of our guests prefer their own transport.’
Addie felt her heart start to race. Of course they did. Like Malachi, they probably all had private cars with chauffeurs to take them wherever they wanted to go. She shivered. She would rather crawl over broken glass than go back upstairs to ask that monster for anything.
‘But...’ The receptionist looked at her earnestly. ‘We do operate a complimentary limousine service to the airport. Would you like me to arrange one for you?’
‘Oh, yes. Yes, please.’ Addie felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. ‘As soon
