AMANDA BROWNING - The Bitter Price Of Love

Reba kissed him with a desperate passion, knowing this was probably the very last time she would ever share something so wonderful. Tears scalded the backs of her eyes, but she beat them back. Then, unable to take any more, she dragged her mouth free, burying her head against his shoulder while her mind sought desperately for a way out.

‘What are you doing to the boat?’ she asked, noticing piles of gear stacked on deck, and using it as an excuse to ease away from him.

Hunter still managed to keep an arm around her, but he turned towards the yacht. ‘Jim Mitchell, the owner, has finally decided he’ll pick her up in Trinidad, so I’m getting her ready to sail down.’

Reba caught her breath, as sudden inspiration came to her. It wouldn’t be nice, but it was what she was looking for. She had known the agency had arranged the use of a millionaire’s yacht for the shoot, and that Hunter certainly wasn’t him. But what if she pretended she had thought that? What if she pretended she was that worst kind of woman—a gold-digger? Surely then he would turn against her, and, in the end, forget her?

She didn’t have to pretend shock; just the thought of what she was about to do had driven all colour from her face. She knew this was going to hurt her more than it would him, and it seemed to take an awful effort to find her voice. ‘Jim Mitchell’s yacht?’ she queried faintly.

At first Hunter didn’t register the strain in her voice. ‘He owns the company who owns the fashion-house you’re advertising. That’s how you got to use the yacht for your shoot.’

Deep inside her her soul screamed, as if it had just been dragged down into hell. He was making it so easy for her. Stiffly, as if she had suddenly aged a hundred years, Reba made herself face him. Lord, I’m so cold. So cold. ‘But…I thought this was your yacht?’ she said sharply, embarking on what she knew was going to be a living nightmare.

Her tone reached him now, and he frowned. His eyes scanned her, noting her paleness. There was a strange silence before he spoke. ‘Did you?’ he asked, and she had never heard that quality in his voice before.

The very flatness in the tone of those two words spoke volumes. He was way ahead of her now. She sensed it. A pain so fierce that it twisted her up almost brought a moan to her lips. Oh God, Hunter, I love you. Forgive me. Hands bunched into fists, she made herself sound angry, as if she were the aggrieved party. ‘You certainly acted as if you owned it!’

Hunter went still. His blue eyes had become shuttered, and when he spoke his voice cut like cold steel. ‘I see. You thought I was a rich man, didn’t you?’ A violent anger entered his eyes as he shook his head. ‘Boy, did you have me fooled. I actually thought you loved me too.’

Love him? She loved him so much she thought she might die from the pain. But she couldn’t. She had to shrug and wave her hand dismissively. ‘Of course I loved you, but…’ She let the word hang tellingly.

His beautiful mouth turned ugly. ‘But only because I was a rich man? Tell me, precisely what did you think messing about with boats meant?’

She had to swallow hard in order to answer. ‘That you owned the thing, of course!’

‘And so you thought you had it made when I asked you to marry me.’

She was going to shatter. Every hope and dream she had ever had was here, coalesced into this one man—and she couldn’t have him. It took every ounce of her courage to add to the lie. ‘I told you how important money was. I made up my mind a long time ago to marry a rich man.’

The love which had once blazed from his eyes was gone forever, replaced by a searing contempt. ‘Whether you love him or not?’

Every look and word was a blade to cut her with. She was amazed that he couldn’t see she was dying inside. She felt as if her emotions were written in neon. Yet her shrug was a perfect gem of indifference. ‘Naturally I’d prefer to love him. When I met you——‘

‘You thought you’d hit the jackpot!’ Hunter interrupted harshly, then abruptly moved away from her, as if the closeness would taint him. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, but you just lucked out.’

Reba clung to her small victory as if it were a lifeline. Her words had worked. Already he hated her. Despair like she had never known threatened to overtake her, but she couldn’t give in to it. Now, or ever. ‘You win some, you lose some.’

Her words drew a glance so cold she flinched. ‘That’s your philosophy, is it?’

If only it were! Unfortunately she didn’t have another flip answer in her right then. ‘What are you going to do?’ she asked finally.

‘Does it matter? I’ll probably put out, but wherever I go, it certainly won’t be where the rich hang out. I intend to go and get royally drunk, and thank my lucky stars I’m not rich, because I’ve just had a lucky escape from the greediest little gold-digger it’s ever been my misfortune to meet!’ he growled at her.

She caught back a sob by pressing her hand to her lips. ‘I do love you in my way, Hunter,’ she managed to say, wanting to tell him, even if he no longer listened.

His lip curled. ‘Sweetheart, you don’t know what love is. If you did, you wouldn’t have just thrown it all away. I don’t know who I pity most—you, or the man you eventually manage to snare. One day you’re going to find out money isn’t everything, Reba,’ he told her, and without another word he swung himself back on board and disappeared below.

Knowing her composure was about to desert her, Reba retraced her steps on legs which threatened to give out at any minute. She had done what she had set out to do, but there was no joy in the knowledge. Her whole body ached with the pain of her betrayal, but she hoped that one day he would thank her for what she had done. At least she had the satisfaction of knowing he wouldn’t go on wanting someone he could never have.

Hailing a cruising taxi, she collapsed inside and asked to be taken back to the hotel. She glanced at her watch, amazed to see that barely an hour had passed. Hysteria brought a lump to lodge in her throat. It had taken less than an hour to bring her world down around her. Somehow she had to salvage what she could and go on, but she knew she would never see Hunter again, and her heart was a dead thing inside her.

Then began her dark night of the soul. Back in her hotel room, she flung herself down on the bed and cried until there were no more tears left. In the state of numbness which followed, she told herself that there had been nothing else she could do. Too much rested on her, and she couldn’t selfishly abandon her mother to her fate. She loved Hunter. He was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She had done the only thing she could for him, by making him hate her.

But it didn’t ease the pain. It would take months, even years, to make thinking about him halfway bearable.

Emotionally drained, she knew she would have to put on the second greatest act of her life in the next few days. Eliot at least didn’t expect a wild display of affection from her, but she would have to show him she was happy in her choice. She hadn’t decided when she would ask him for his help. That would depend on how she found her mother.

Harriet was the one who had to believe that Reba was happy. Neither she, nor the rest of the family, must ever know the sacrifice she had made. She knew her mother would blame herself for ruining her daughter’s life, and that was a situation Reba was determined to avoid. So, to all appearances, this marriage would be for love and no other reason.

At least that gave her a purpose, a reason to go on, and she flew home to England later that day, determined to appear happy. The house was empty when she reached it the following day, but Maggie had left her a note saying she had gone to the hospital, and that there was salad in the fridge for her if she wanted it. Having forced herself to eat on the plane, she only lingered long enough to wash and redo her make-up before driving herself to the hospital in the car she had left garaged at the house.