was that he didn’t love her. The words went over and over in her mind like a record stuck in a groove. Which was why she was still sitting there when Pierce emerged from the bathroom minutes later and, after affording her one brief glance, proceeded to dress. White-faced, she watched him, the scales falling from her eyes. Everything about him was hard now; there was none of the loving softness left. He had sloughed that off with yesterday’s travel-soiled clothes, and now he stood revealed to her in his true colours.
Having ignored her presence, once dressed in a dark grey business suit Pierce paused briefly before departing. ‘My housekeeper’s name is Mrs Ransome. Should there be anything you require you need only ask her.’
Alix didn’t have the necessary composure to reply and Pierce didn’t wait for one. Without another word he left her. Left her alone with her misery of betrayal and only her agonised thoughts for company. When, only minutes later, Mrs Ransome appeared to enquire if she required breakfast, Alix still hadn’t moved. Her chalk-white face showed no sign of tears because none had fallen, but she wasn’t numb either. She only wished she were, so that the pain would end.
Calmly she refused the food, going through the painful mechanics of smiling. ‘No, thank you, Mrs Ransome. I’m still feeling rather jet-lagged.’ That twentieth-century phenomenon would have been far easier to deal with than the truth, and a bubble of hysteria threatened to destroy what composure she had. She swallowed it back hastily. ‘I think I need to rest more than eat.’
The housekeeper nodded wisely. ‘Very good, Mrs Martineau. And may I take this opportunity of wishing you and Mr Pierce happy?’
Alix didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Happy? Yet she must have made some acceptable reply, because the housekeeper smiled and went out. The mask cracked then, as she lowered her head, the graceful arch of her neck revealing her terrible vulnerability. She didn’t know what Pierce meant. Her family hadn’t done anything to him. She had never heard his name mentioned. But Pierce had been so sure. He wanted vengeance, he said, and had set out on a course to deceive and entrap her just for that purpose. He had spent weeks pursuing her, wooing her, using every facet of charm that lay at his fingertips to persuade her of his affections—to claim her as his wife so that he could callously renounce it all this way.
Her hands came up to cover her face. But she had loved him so! How could he betray her like this? It wasn’t human. It was unfeeling and... Lord help her, her heart felt as if it was being torn asunder, the pain of it ripping open nerves until they were raw and bleeding. Yet even as the pain grew it gradually gave birth to a cauterising anger.
She had done nothing to deserve this! It was a cry from the very depths of her heart, and her blood answered. Suddenly she wanted to hurt him as he was hurting her. The thought of it filled her stomach with a red-hot flame. The memory of how she had given all her love and trust to this man branded her soul. Hot tears burned her eyes, but she refused to shed them. He had brought her low, but he would never see her cry.
* * *
Alix came out of the past with a shiver. The brandy remained untouched in the glass, and she set it aside, rubbing some warmth into her arms with her hands. The revenge she had sought in her rage and pain had never materialised, because that had been only the beginning. Yet nothing that happened later had touched her the way that first betrayal had. The hurt had gone so deep that all else had compounded it, but could not make it worse.
Yet, as she had told Pierce, their brief marriage had taught her a lesson. A valuable one. Never again would she fall for a man’s lies, nor give him any control over her life, so that he had the power to manipulate and hurt her. Nor would she ever allow her own emotions to lead her into those same dangerous waters, blinding her to everything.
She had had a warning tonight that his attraction was as potent as ever, and she deplored her own feminine weakness which made her vulnerable to him. She had to be on her guard. Whatever Pierce was here for, she had to keep a clear head and not let her emotions sway her judgement. It was the only way to stay one step ahead of him. She didn’t trust him, had learned not to in the hardest way.
Whatever plan he had she would be wary of. She knew all about the Martineau company now. It was so diversified, it was doubtful if he’d ever be threatened with a take-over, hostile or otherwise. Whereas he had a habit of acquiring failing companies, splitting them into their constituent parts, and selling them off at a profit. If that was what he had in mind for Petrakos Publishing, then he could think again.
Yet Pierce’s personal reputation was spotless. He had the proverbial Midas touch. There was scarcely a word written but to praise him. However, the businessman was one thing, the man another, as she knew to her cost. If the Petrakos empire weren’t in such dire straits, she would have absolutely nothing to do with him. But she must force herself to swallow her pride and be practical for the sake of the thousands of livelihoods involved.
If she kept her mind on that, then she knew she could handle Pierce. She had grown up a lot in the last five years, and knew she was stronger mentally. She wasn’t going to be a coward and run away. This time she was going to face up to him, and she was going to win.
It was a thought which put a tight smile on her lips as she finally made her way to her bedroom. Perhaps she would get her revenge after all.
CHAPTER THREE
THE following morning, Alix dressed with more than her usual care. This meeting with Pierce was going to be a battle of wills, and it would be in her own best interests to project a confident image. Which was why she chose an extremely businesslike black suit, enlivening it by pinning the diamond brooch she had inherited from her grandmother on the lapel, completing the ensemble by adding diamond studs in her ears and a simple gold rope at her throat.
Stepping in front of the mirror, she took stock of the view he would receive. Her make-up had been applied with polished efficiency which made it seem almost non-existent, and altogether she knew she looked good. A businesswoman, in complete control of her life. It was an image she had worked hard to build, earning the respect she now received, and she wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.
The drive to the office was as stressful as ever, but today she was aware of an added edge. The very last thing Alix wanted was to arrive late, because she knew how hard it was to make up lost time. Keeping Pierce waiting wasn’t part of her plan. She wanted him to see that she could be cool and efficient under pressure. Fortunately, the gods seemed to be on her side, and she was soon taking the lift from the underground car park where she left her car, rising swiftly to her office on the top floor.
Her secretary was already hard at work, and Alix halted by her desk. ‘Good morning, Ruth.’
The middle-aged woman looked up with a smile. ‘Good morning, Alix. How’s your father?’
‘Improving, thankfully. Listen, you’d better leave the post for now. I’ve someone coming at ten o’clock, so I need you to clear the morning for me,’ Alix responded, pink-tinted nails tapping out a tattoo on the polished surface of the desk.
Ruth reached for her diary. ‘There was only Mr Johnson from the union pencilled in before lunch.’
Alix pulled a face. The union had been a headache for days now, and she had been fobbing them off until she had some definite news. ‘Well, he won’t like it, but it can’t be helped. Try and squeeze him in this afternoon, but if not, tell him...tell him we’ve rescheduled because there might be light at the end of the tunnel.’
Ruth, as anxious about her job as anyone else, pricked up her ears. ‘And is there?’
