‘What do you mean?’
His hands fell on her shoulders and he swung her towards him. ‘Don’t play games,’ he said tightly. The muscle in his cheek clenched. ‘Tell me what this is all about.’
‘Hey,’ she said with a little smile, ‘ease up, will you? Don’t try and blame this on me! I kept saying I had to talk to you, but——’
‘And I agreed. We have a lot of talking to do.’ His hands tightened on her shoulders. ‘Serious talking. And now, I come up here and I find you dressed like this, with your suitcase on the bed—’
‘Well, it’s not my fault, Conor. If you’d just given me a chance yesterday, you’d understand.’
A tight smile twitched across his mouth. ‘I’m listening.’
Arden looked into his eyes. They weren’t green, not now. They were black as ebony, and cold in a way that terrified her.
And yet, what was there to be afraid of? Nothing Conor Martinez could do or say would ever hurt her half as much as what he’d already done. She wanted to tell him that, to lash out at him and hurt him, but it was hard to hurt somebody without a heart. You could only do it by pretending you didn’t have one, either.
‘Well?’ His fingers bit into her flesh.
Arden took a deep, deep breath. ‘I’m going.’
An eternity seemed to drag by before he answered. ‘Going? Going where?’
‘Come on, Conor, don’t let’s drag this out.’ She twisted away from him and walked to the bed, where her suitcase lay waiting. ‘This has been very pleasant, but—’
‘Pleasant?’ She closed her eyes, then blinked them open, as she heard him cross the room towards her. ‘Pleasant?’ he said again, his voice a snarl as he spun her to face him.
The rage flaming in his eyes was enough to make her tremble, but she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t show any weakness, not now, not ever, not to this man. Arden reached deep inside herself and drew on the well of strength that had always seen her through.
‘I know you thought I’d stay here until the will was through probate,’ she said calmly. ‘Well, I did, too, for a while, but——’
‘To hell with the will!’
‘—but with the rainy season coming and all——’
‘Are you crazy? What does the rainy season have to do with us?’
‘Us?’ Arden widened her eyes. ‘Us? What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘You know what it means,’ he said through his teeth. ‘I’m in love with you, Arden, and you’re in love with me!’
‘Love!’ She laughed. ‘Oh, Conor, I’m flattered, but——’
She cried out as he grasped her arm and twisted it behind her. Fear put a metallic taste into her mouth; it made her heart bang against her ribs, but she forced herself to show none of it as she looked into his face.
‘Don’t,’ she said softly. ‘You’ve lost El Corazon, Conor. You wouldn’t want to face an assault charge, too.’
He gave her a look that was so filled with hate and loathing that she felt the coldness of it stab into her soul. His hand closed on her throat; she gave a little gasp as he tilted her head back and leaned towards her.
‘I was right about you all along,’ he said softly. ‘You’re a cold-blooded, grasping bitch!’
‘What’s the matter, Conor? Did you really think I’d let you seduce me into giving away what’s mine?’
‘Bitch,’ he whispered again, his fingers tightening on her throat.
‘It’s going to be hard to explain thumb prints on my neck to a judge, Senor Martinez.’
‘You got exactly what you wanted, didn’t you?’ he growled.
Arden felt the sharp bite of tears behind her eyes.