friends?’
‘What were you thinking, leaving behind a life of luxury?’
‘You’ve embarrassed your husband and you’ve mortified us. Return home immediately!’
The latter had been the most laughable because I hadn’t had a home with Bardley. Not really. We’d been friends coexisting in a massive house. More like housemates, really, who had lacklustre sex on occasion.
Not that anyone besides us knew the truth. To our friends and family we were the luckiest couple in Australia. Married young. The successful merging of two powerhouse families. A glamorous life filled with the best money could buy, with a fortune guaranteed to keep our offspring in the lap of luxury.
The biggest sham ever perpetuated.
I hated myself for putting up with it for so long. For being a mousy, subservient girl who went along with whatever my parents wanted, including marrying a man I only felt a lukewarm affection for.
I’d allowed myself to get caught up in the euphoria of having some guy pay me attention. Because that was what Bardley had done, wooed me with the express purpose of marriage, as his folks had suggested to him.
While he’d had dollar signs in his eyes, envisaging a family merger that would consolidate fortunes, I’d had stars in my eyes, naively hoping that marriage would provide the excitement I’d been craving.
Instead, Bardley had morphed into the dweeb I’d always suspected he was, with a mean streak that flourished once he had a ring on my finger. And I’d started to lose myself, piece by piece, becoming a listless yes-person who’d do anything to keep the peace and not earn his wrath.
What a fool.
I’d hated being that spineless, mouthless idiot and as I stared at the day spa and watched a mother and daughter exit, heads close together as they gossiped, their blond-streaked hair shiny in the lights flickering on, I realised maybe I didn’t miss my old life so much after all.
I couldn’t fathom my parents’ lack of contact, their complete lack of interest in my well-being now that I wasn’t doing what they wanted.
Dad had always been aloof and business-focussed, so I didn’t expect as much from him. The only time he’d ever paid me attention—Mum too, for that matter—was when we did something that pleased him. Otherwise, he’d convey his displeasure through angry silences that lasted for days, ensuring that I learned from a young age to make him happy.
So it didn’t surprise me that he hadn’t contacted me, but for Mum to ignore me too...it hurt. A lot.
I’d rung twice over the last six months, more to touch base and hear a familiar voice. The maid had skilfully diverted my call both times, so I never got to speak to my folks.
They hadn’t returned my calls.
Was I stupid to still miss them? To still hold onto a faint hope they’d eventually come around? Maybe, but they were my parents and no matter how crappy their treatment, a small part of me wished they’d understand one day.
A tear plopped onto my forearm, startling me. I hadn’t realised I’d been crying. Swiping a hand across my eyes, I shot the day spa a final wistful glance before starting the engine.
I should be happy. Last night with Tanner had purged my past once and for all. I should be rejoicing. Instead, I couldn’t help but wish I could have my old life mix successfully with my new.
At least the drive had achieved one objective.
Forget Tanner.
But as I headed back to Le Miel, knowing I’d have to confront him all too soon, maybe this new life I’d craved so much was a lot more than I’d bargained for.
Tanner
‘FLOUR STOCKS ARE LOW—same with sugar and butter. We’ve got a flood of orders coming in that haven’t been catalogued. And the front display cabinet looks like something a toddler arranged. What the hell’s going on?’
I glowered at Abby, hating the flicker of resentment in those stunning blue eyes that had been filled with passion only two days ago.
I’d been riding her—metaphorically, worse luck—ever since I’d arrived at seven this morning. But I had to keep it up, had to keep emotional distance between us, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her.
Walking in this morning and having her fix me with that cool blue indifferent gaze, like nothing had happened between us, made me want to bend her over the counter and thrust into her until sweet, sensual Abby was back.
I liked that Abby. Liked her willing and wanton and wet. Desperate for me.
But I liked that Abby too much—too much to be good for me—and therein lay the problem.
So I’d donned my poker face and reflected her indifference right back at her. Though it was an act. A forced act we were both perpetuating in the hope neither of us would crack.
I’d known it would be like this. That she would pretend like nothing had happened. Hell, she’d made it painfully obvious she didn’t want me ever since we’d met, her disdain palpable. Which only served to dent my ego and make me want to rattle her all the more.
It was like some weird twisted game we were playing. Push and pull. A battle of wills. Too bad for her, I’d never backed down from a challenge in my life. I could out-stubborn a donkey. Because I’d learned from an early age that the only way to cope with Dad’s derogatory crap was with indifference.
He’d hated it. I’d done it more. He’d never made me crack. Nobody could. I’d become too hardened, too cynical, too tough.
Too tough for the likes of Abby, that was for sure.
I’d ultimately break her and that wouldn’t be good. For her, for Remy, maybe for me too.
Though I was a big boy, I could take it. But Remy would hate me for running off his golden girl and I couldn’t let that happen. I didn’t care what other people thought of me. Anyone except Remy. His opinion mattered. He mattered. He always had.
So I’d keep up this ridiculous charade no matter how much I wanted Abby.
‘I’ll get Makayla to check the orders and the front display. As for supplies, today’s delivery is late. It happens sometimes.’ She glared at me like something she’d stepped in. A particularly nasty something that stuck to her shoe no matter how hard she tried to wipe it off. ‘I’ll go check in the storeroom. We usually stock extras for emergencies.’
‘Fine,’ I muttered through gritted teeth, feeling like an ogre as I watched her retreating back and her ass.
I couldn’t help it. Remembering the soft curve of her cheeks. The way they felt beneath my hands. How she’d squealed when I’d bitten her.
She paused at the door to the storeroom and glanced over her shoulder.
Damn, sprung, as I dragged
