him what he’d been missing. He was still as jaw-droppingly gorgeous as the last time she’d seen him. And if she hadn’t been grinding her teeth to powder her jaw would be embedded in the plush ankle-deep carpet right then and there. His jet-black hair was neither long nor short nor straight nor curly, but somewhere sexily in the middle, reminding her of all the times she had trailed her fingers through those thick glossy strands, or fisted her hands in them during earth-shattering, planet-dislodging sex. He was clean-shaven but the rich dark stubble surrounding his nose and mouth and along his chiselled jaw was a heady reminder of all the times he’d left stubble rash on her softer skin. It had been like a sexy brand on her face, on her breasts, between her thighs...
Ailsa suppressed a shudder and, ignoring the chair he’d offered, threw him a look that would have frozen lava. In mid-flow. ‘I want a word with you. Now.’ She leaned on the word ‘now’ like a schoolmistress dressing down a disrespectful pupil.
The corners of Vinn’s mouth flickered as if he were trying to stop a smile...or one of his trademark lip curls. He ended his phone call after another few moments and placed the phone on his desk with unnerving precision. ‘If you’d made an appointment like everyone else then I would have plenty of time to talk to you.’
‘I’m not everyone else.’ Ailsa flashed him another glare. ‘I’m your wife.’
A dark light gleamed in his espresso-brown gaze like the flick of a dangerous match. ‘Don’t you mean soon-to-be ex-wife?’
Did that mean he was finally going to sign off on their divorce? Because they’d married in England they were subject to English divorce law, which stated a couple had to be legally separated for two years. It was strange to think if they had married in Italy they would have been granted a divorce by now because Italian divorce law only required one year of separation.
‘This may surprise you, Vinn, but I’m not here about our imminent divorce.’
‘Let me guess.’ He glanced at the overnight bag by her side and his eyes glinted again. ‘You want to come back to me.’
Ailsa curled her hand around the handle of her bag so tightly her bitten-down nail beds stung. ‘No. I do not want to come back to you. I’m here about my brother. Isaac told me you’re offering to sponsor him for the international golfing circuit next year.’
‘That’s correct.’
She disguised a swallow. ‘But...but why?’
‘Why?’ One dark eyebrow rose as if he found her question ludicrous and her imbecilic to have asked it. ‘He asked me, that’s why.’
‘He...asked you?’ Ailsa’s mouth dropped open so wide she could have parked one of her brother’s golf buggies inside. ‘He didn’t tell me that...’ She took a much-needed breath and, letting go of her bag, gripped the back of the chair opposite his desk instead and swallowed again. ‘He said you told him you would sponsor him but there were conditions on the deal. Conditions that involved me.’
Vinn’s expression changed from mocking to masked. ‘Sit down and we’ll discuss them.’
Ailsa sat, not because he told her but because her legs were threatening to go from under her like damp drinking straws. Why had Isaac led her to believe Vinn had approached him over sponsorship? Why had her brother been so...so insensitive to invite her soon-to-be ex-husband back into her orbit? Vinn’s involvement with her brother’s golfing career would mean she wouldn’t be able to avoid him the way she’d been doing for the last two years.
She had to avoid him.
She had to.
She didn’t trust herself around him. She turned into someone else when she was with him. Someone who had all the hopes and dreams of a normal person—someone who didn’t have a horrible secret in her background. A secret not even her brother knew about.
Her half-brother.
Ailsa was fifteen years old when she stumbled upon the truth about her biological father. For all that time she’d believed, along with everyone else, that her stepfather Michael was her dad. For fifteen years that lie had kept her family knitted together...well, knitted together was maybe stretching it a bit, because there were a few dropped stitches here and there. Her parents, while individually decent and respectable people, hadn’t been happy in their relationship, but she had always blamed them for not trying hard enough to get on.
She hadn’t thought it was her fault.
That the lie about her was the thing that made their lives so wretchedly miserable. But after finding out the truth about her biological father and the circumstances surrounding her conception, she could understand why.
Ailsa straightened her skirt over her thighs and took a calming breath, but then her gaze spied a silver photograph frame on Vinn’s desk and her heart stumbled like a foot missing a rung on a ladder. Why had he kept that? She had given him that frame after their wedding, with her favourite photo of them smiling at each other with the sun setting in the background. Giving him that photo had been her way of deluding herself she was in a real marriage and not one that was simply convenient for Vinn because he wanted a beautiful and accomplished wife to grace his home. She couldn’t see the photo from her side of the desk. Perhaps he had someone else’s image in there now. The thought of it churned her belly into a cauldron of caustic jealousy. She knew it was missish of her since she was the one to walk out on their marriage, but it hurt her pride to think he could so easily move on with his life.
And not just her pride was hurt...
Ailsa had always held a thread of hope that Vinn would fall in love with her. What bride didn’t want her handsome husband to love her? She had fooled herself it would be enough to be his bride, to be in his bed. To be in his life.
But she had longed to be in his heart. To be the first person he thought of in the morning and the last he thought of at night. To be the person he valued over everyone else or anything else. But Vinn didn’t value her. He didn’t prioritise her. He didn’t love her. Never had. Never would. He was incapable of it.
Vinn leaned back in his chair with one ankle crossed over his muscle-packed thigh, his dark unreadable gaze moving over her body like a minesweeper. ‘You’re looking good, cara.’
Ailsa stiffened. ‘Don’t call me that.’
His mouth curved upwards as if he found her anger amusing. ‘Still the same old bad attitude Ailsa.’
‘And why wouldn’t I have a bad attitude where you’re concerned?’ Ailsa said. ‘How do I know you didn’t plant the idea of sponsorship in Isaac’s mind? How often have you been in contact with him since we separated?’
‘My relationship with your brother has nothing to do with my relationship with you,’ Vinn said. ‘That is entirely separate.’
‘We don’t have a relationship any more, Vinn.’
His eyes became obsidian-hard. ‘And whose fault is that, hmm?’
Ailsa was trying to contain her temper but it was like trying to restrain a rabid Rottweiler on a Teacup Chihuahua’s leash. ‘We didn’t have a relationship in the first place. You married me for all the wrong reasons. You wanted a trophy wife. Someone to do little nineteen-fifties wifey things for you while you got on with your business as if my career meant nothing to me.’
A
