Christien frowned, for she could not hide her sudden pallor. ‘Tabby-’
‘No, don’t say any more or I’ll lose my temper,’ she warned not quite steadily. ‘After all, you brought me here on false pretences and I’m not under any obligation to discuss ridiculous swops or business deals if I don’t want to.’
‘I did not say you were, but a fair and generous proposition rarely causes offence and usually deserves consideration. I hoped you’d be sensible.’
‘And if I’m not, what then? Threats?’
‘I don’t threaten women,’ Christien contradicted with icy disdain. ‘You’re being irrational. I want to keep the family estate intact and there is no shame in that objective. Nothing that happens between us will change that reality and I won’t pretend otherwise.’
Rigid-backed, Tabby stepped out into the hot, still air and headed for the limousine, for she was desperate to be gone. Irrational? Was it irrational to feel unbearably hurt? Was her very presence within miles of the fancy château where he had been born such an offence? She felt sick at her own stupidity. Like a moth to a candle flame she had been drawn to him again. He had burned her before and after that warning it had been very naive of her to invite such pain a second time. But she was angry with him, so angry that she could barely bring herself to look at him and certainly not to speak.
Two hours later, he brought the Ferrari to a halt beside the cottage. As Tabby leapt out he followed suit at a slower pace. ‘We have to talk this out,’ he drawled with cool determination.
Two high spots of colour burning over her cheekbones, Tabby shot him a splintering glance. ‘No, I don’t want to talk to a guy who thinks of me as being something less than he is!’
‘You have no grounds to accuse me of that.’
‘Oh, haven’t I?’ A rather shrill laugh fell from her lips. ‘You just tried to bribe me…you just tried to buy me!’
‘It wasn’t a bribe. In no way is that house I showed you intended as a bribe. But if I’m asking you to rethink your plans and relocate purely for my benefit, I must offer some form of compensation to make the inconvenience seem worth your while,’ Christien proclaimed without hesitation.
‘You are so smooth! How is it that you manage to make even the unacceptable sound acceptable?’ Tabby demanded with furious resentment.
‘I doubt that you would be reacting like this if I had not shared your bed last night. That has clouded the real issue at stake here.’ Wide, sensual mouth compressing, Christien dealt her a brooding masculine scrutiny.
‘You’re right…that was a very big mistake.’ Tabby slammed the front door loudly shut in his startled face and leant back against it in a tempest of angry, hurting tears.
‘Tabby!’
As he rapped on the door she sucked in a steadying breath, but silent, stinging tears trekked down her quivering cheeks. In letting him stay the night she had regressed to the impulsive, reckless teenage years. She had forgotten all caution and common sense and flung her heart back at his feet. Did she never learn? Why was she so downright stupid around him?
Sean called her on her mobile phone at seven. The day before he had mentioned knowing the Englishwoman who owned the local art gallery and her daughter, who was a potter.
‘Alice has asked us over for drinks. There’ll be a crowd, there always is. You’re sure to meet a few other creative types,’ Sean told her cheerfully.
Tabby felt that company would distract her troubled thoughts from Christien and, although she went out with no expectation of enjoyment, she had an interesting evening. She met several artists living in the area, exchanged phone numbers and garnered useful information about where to buy art supplies. It was two in the morning when Sean brought her home. Only when she saw the lights flick on did she realise that Christien’s Ferrari was parked at the side of the cottage. He climbed out, his long, powerful stride carrying him towards her at speed.
Tabby was very tense but determined to save what face she could and she moved forward with as easy and meaningless a smile as she could contrive. ‘Christien…sorry I’m so late back-’
‘Zut alors…I’m not!’ he bit out, lean, dark handsome features taut with a scorching fury that took her aback. ‘You almost had me convinced that I had misjudged you, but I’ve caught you in the act again. Where have you been all evening? In his bed? First one man, then another. You sleep with me and-’
‘Regret it,’ Tabby slotted in between angrily clenched teeth. ‘Oh, boy, do I regret sleeping with you!’
Appreciating that he had been totally overlooked in the excitement, Sean peered out of his car, which was still parked by the roadside. ‘Do you want me to stay, Tabby?’ he called anxiously.
‘See how you embarrass me!’ Tabby snapped at Christien before she stalked back down the path to urge Sean to go on home and not worry about her.
Christien spread lean hands and swore in fast, furious French, demonstrating all the lack of tolerance typical of a male who had never in his whole charmed life been accused of causing anyone embarrassment.
Tabby unlocked the front door with a trembling hand. ‘I don’t ever want to see you again-’
‘Why did you refuse to let me in when I brought you back from viewing the house earlier? You must have known that I would return here.’ Christien stepped past her and then swung round to treat her to a fierce look of condemnation. ‘Were you scared you might want to spend two nights with the same guy?’
In the moonlight, Tabby shivered with outrage. ‘How can you talk to me as if I’m some slapper who goes with a load of different men?’
‘When I’m around there’s always another guy panting at your heels!’
‘Just to think that your friend, Veronique, once told me that you liked competition!’ Tabby recalled with bitter amusement. ‘I guess that piece of misinformation was advanced with the same self-serving venom as all the other helpful advice she offered me.’