As they drove up to the house she saw lawns leading down to the Thames, and a boat moored to a wide wooden deck.
‘Like I said, my business is doing very well for itself,’ he said. ‘It’s far exceeded my dreams.’
‘And I suppose you’re still putting in those ludicrous hours?’ she challenged. ‘Why do you need a house this size if there’s only you living here?’ What she was really asking was whether there was another woman in his life.
‘Because I entertain a lot,’ he answered. ‘I hold corporate meetings here—business weekends, in fact. It works better than booking conference rooms. I have loyal staff who do all the organising and look after my every need.’
Keisha’s brows rose. This was money talking. Real money. And here was she without a penny to call her own. Was she sorry that she was not a part of it? Or glad? Would she have enjoyed all these trappings of wealth? Who knew what might have happened if she hadn’t run out on him?
Hunter had also lain awake for a good deal of last night. He’d been flabbergasted when he saw Keisha. Considering that she had disappeared without trace, it had been like seeing an apparition. She was still beautiful, despite how thin she was, and regardless of the way she’d treated him he couldn’t help thinking how much he’d lost.
He’d thought their marriage was perfect, and had found it hard to believe that she’d wanted to leave him. When he had discovered that blaming his hard work had been nothing more than a smokescreen, when he’d seen her with her arms around another man, all hell had broken loose inside him.
And now that they’d met again he’d spent all night working out how to get his revenge. It was a simple plan, really. He would make her fall in love with him again and then he would dump her—just as callously as she had dumped him. She would experience hurt and pain and bewilderment; she would rack her brains to find out where she had failed him.
It would destroy her.
While he would feel nothing except triumph.
But first would be the very pleasurable experience of gaining her trust again. He might hate her for walking out on him, for cheating on him, for making him look like a fool, but he still ached for her sexy little body. And he fully intended to take advantage of it!
Hunter watched her face as he showed her over his house. He was proud of his achievement, and Keisha’s expression was stunned to say the least. Was she regretting walking away from all that he could have given her?
It was hard to believe that she was still living in the same tiny cottage that she’d been brought up in. He was naturally sorry to hear that her mother had died, but surely Keisha could have done better for herself? To still live in that cramped little house didn’t make sense.
‘What do you think?’ he asked as they finished their inside tour and began walking down towards the river.
‘It’s magnificent,’ she said.
‘And it could all have been yours,’ he responded, quietly awaiting her reaction.
Not that Keisha had ever wished for the moon. Indeed, she’d been shocked when he had asked her out on their first date. He had almost expected her to say, Who? Me? and look round to see if there was anyone behind her.
He had discovered that she worked mainly to support her mother, and although he still found it hard to understand why she had run away from him, he had found it inconceivable to believe she had left her mother in the lurch too.
Perhaps she’d been sending money to her parent? Salving her conscience that way? Whatever the situation, he’d not been able to find out about it. Keisha’s mother had kept admirably quiet about her daughter’s whereabouts. For that he respected her, even though it had angered him at the time when she’d stonewalled every enquiry he made.
Keisha must have cast him as the biggest villain out.
And now she was going to get her just deserts.
‘I’m waiting for your answer,’ he said.
Keisha frowned. ‘Did you ask me something?’
‘I said all this could have been yours. Do you have any regrets?’ He watched her face closely. It hadn’t changed much. With her green eyes and dimples and her smooth skin it still held the innocence that had first attracted him.
She shook her head vehemently. ‘None at all! I’m not materialistic—you should know that.’
‘So you prefer living in your mother’s old house?’
‘I have little choice.’
He frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean I can’t afford to move.’
Hunter looked at her closely, and for the first time saw the pain deep behind her eyes. He took her arm and led her to the rose arbour. ‘I think we need to talk.’
Keisha looked as though she didn’t want to, but he was determined to find out what had happened to make her so vulnerable. He felt fairly certain that it had nothing to do with her walking out on him.
Had the boyfriend something to do with it? Had he left her in the lurch? Anger filled him. This was the woman he had once loved; he would never have hurt her. Never! And to think that someone else had made his blood boil!
‘So why can’t you afford it?’ It was hard keeping his voice quiet and even, but he knew that if he wanted her to talk then he would have to. ‘What are you doing these days?’
Keisha shrugged. ‘Temporary work.’
‘Why haven’t you got a permanent job?’ he queried.
‘Because,’ she said, so softly that he assumed she didn’t really want him to hear, ‘I was out of work for a long time looking after my mother, and now it seems no one wants to employ me.’
‘Really?’ Far from feeling sorry for her he felt pleased. In fact he felt jubilant. Fate was on his side. She was playing right into his hands. This could work very well to his advantage. ‘Maybe I can help?’
Keisha looked at him warily. ‘I want nothing from you.’
‘Can you afford to turn me down?’ he asked, keeping his voice low and sympathetic.
He saw her brace herself; he saw her struggling with emotion. ‘I couldn’t work for you. Not again.’
Hunter allowed himself a small smile. ‘Maybe you need time to think it over?’
Keisha closed her eyes. What she ought to do was snap his hand off. She needed a good, solid job—desperately! She would be a fool not to take him up on his offer. But working for Hunter again? How soul destroying would that be?
Except that maybe she wouldn’t see much of him. He was the top man; he was very busy; he would be here, there and everywhere. Perhaps even abroad a lot of the time? She would have nothing to worry about.
She was very much aware of the clean, fresh masculine smell of him, so close to her nostrils that it was like breathing him in, filling herself with his sexy male body,
