'I did not choose to leave you,' he said calmly, as though that made everything all right. 'I answered a distress call from a human being who needed help, because I was the only person who could.'
Of course you were, she thought with agonising pain— you were the cause of it in the first place. 'You kept it a secret,' she accused sharply. 'You didn't tell me what had happened although you had several opportunities. You weren't going to tell me, were you?'
'No, I was not.' It was not the answer Victoria had expected; she had expected him to lie and perversely it hurt all the more that he hadn't bothered to do even that. 'There was no need for you to be bothered with such unpleasantness,' Zac said coolly. 'This was my problem, and as such I dealt with it as I saw fit.'
Oh, it was his problem all right! 'You married me because you wanted to extend your business empire,' Victoria stated with painful flatness, 'and don't bother to deny it; I know it's true. You probably fancied me too, and I was malleable enough—stupid enough—for your purposes. You had planned to go on exactly as you'd always done, hadn't you? I wouldn't even have made a dent in your life. There was to be no sharing, no real commitment.'
'That is all absolute rubbish and you know it,' he said angrily. 'I never lied to you, not once. If you had asked me about Gina, or the business deal with your mother's attorneys, I would have told you as much as you wanted to know.'
'That's easy to say now,' she shot back furiously, 'but how could I ask about something I didn't know a thing about?' She had always considered herself a quiet, gentle, easy-going sort of person, certainly not someone who would ever contemplate doing another human being serious physical harm, but right at that moment, if she had had anything in her hands, she would have thrown it straight at Zac's handsome, superior face. She wanted to hurt him. She wanted to really, really hurt him, and the knowledge shocked her more than she could express, acting like a bucket of cold water on the fire of her temper.
'Did you buy that apartment for Gina?' she asked now, her voice shaking. 'Just a few weeks before we got married? Did you?'
'I'm not answering that before I explain the circumstances,' he said after a long moment of looking at her white face from which all colour had fled.
'I think you just did,' she whispered numbly, her eyes desolate.
'Victoria, I had responsibilities I couldn't walk away from,' he bit back tightly. 'Responsibilities that necessitated action.'
'I know. Responsibilities to your mistress,' she said dully.
'No, to a member of my family,' he growled deeply. 'She is a distant cousin of mine, and her mother had phoned me from Italy to say that Gina had problems and needed help. I couldn't refuse her.'
'Did her mother know you were sleeping with her daughter?' Victoria asked with uncharacteristic cynicism.
'My affair with Gina ended before I met you,' Zac said with rigid self-control. 'And that is the truth, Victoria. I swear it.'
'I don't believe you.' She stared at him with pain-filled eyes.
The words hung in the air for an eternity, and as Victoria wrenched her eyes from his and turned to stare out into the garden—anything to avoid looking at his face and seeing the look that had come into the dark eyes at her words—she focused on a small, flat, large-eyed lizard that had changed its colour to suit the large stone on which it was hanging by the tiny suckers on its toes.
How could life go on—the sun shine so brightly, the flowers and trees look so beautiful—when her world was ending? she asked herself silently. But she had to finish this now—it was even more important after what she had learnt that morning.
She had thought he was different, she'd believed he really loved her as she did him—and she had loved him, so much—but he was part of her mother's world, not hers. She didn't want to spend the rest of her life with a man whose values resembled those of her father. Her mother might have been able to handle it—-in fact her mother had clearly relished it—but Victoria knew herself well enough to recognise she would destroy herself if she tried to do the same. The last two months had confirmed that if nothing else. But there was more, much more, she understood now.
And it wasn't just Gina, or even the merger, big as those issues were. In all their months of being together, in all the magic and laughter and joy, he had never really talked to her, she thought numbly. She had been like a pretty little doll to him, an entertaining novelty he had picked up and decided to buy, and she had been too captivated and under his spell to see the warning signs. But they had been there. And now she was taking notice.
She wanted her child brought up in the real world, with real people. It wouldn't be easy, but she wouldn't ask Zac or her mother for a penny. She would work—she would get a job doing anything, and she would make it by herself. She wanted nothing more to do with their seedy little world. It was over.
'Don't do this, Victoria.' Zac's voice was as cold as ice. 'You're throwing away something precious because of hurt pride, that's all. Let me explain; let's talk it through from the beginning.' And then, more urgently, he said, 'It'll be all right, trust me.'
'It's too late.' She turned back to him then, her blue eyes with their long thick lashes shadowed with pain. 'It's all far, far too late. We should never have married, Zac. We're worlds apart in everything that matters. And you know it too, deep down.'
'The hell we are,' he ground out in savage denial. 'The hell we are. You're my wife and I don't let go of what is mine.'
He reached her in three angry strides, pulling her up out of the rocking chair and into his arms with a fury that was all the more intense for being suppressed, his mouth fastening on hers.
She was too stunned at first to fight him, and then, as she began to twist and turn in his hold, the smell and taste and feel of him began to spin in her head. She had been starving for this, physically starving fo
r long, wretched, tear-filled weeks, and as he devoured her mouth desire rose hot and strong in her veins. But it would be madness to give in to it.
She still continued to struggle, the knowledge of her weakness where this man was concerned shameful and humiliating, but she was fighting herself more than him and she knew it. She was aware of the power in his muscled body, and also that he was using his strength to restrain rather than force her, but his mouth was hungry and urgent and inciting a response in the depth of her she didn't want to give. Dared not give.
'Don't…don't do this.' Her voice was shaking and frantic.
'Why not?' He raised his head slightly, his eyes glittering and black as he moved her back against the whitewashed wall of the sitting room. 'I've been thinking of nothing else for weeks.'
'I don't want to,' she protested tremblingly, moving her head as he tried to take her lips again. 'And I don't want you—I don't.'