Wicked Surrender: Ruthless Awakening / The Multi-Millionaire's Virgin Mistress / The Timber Baron's Virgin Bride

He shrugged. ‘Why not? Admittedly my explanation may not go down well in some quarters, and Carrie will indeed be disappointed, but in this case I feel the end justifies the means.’

‘But I don’t agree,’ she said. ‘So I’d be glad if you’d turn this floating prison right around and take me back to Polkernick.’

‘Not a chance, sweetheart,’ he said. ‘You’re coming with me. You might not be my companion of choice, you understand, but—hey—the time will soon pass. And when we eventually put in somewhere, you’ll find yourself on a flight back to London before you know it.’

‘Kidnap is a crime,’ she said. ‘People end up in jail for things like this.’

‘For “kidnap” substitute “brief idyllic interlude for two people who fancy each other like crazy”.’ His smile was cold. ‘Quite apart from the note, I think most of the evidence is on my side. Mrs Henderson was delighted to collaborate in my “surprise” and pack your things for Juan to collect after you’d left for the hotel. Everyone saw us leave the party in perfect amity, and knew we were having dinner together. There was no kicking and screaming at the harbour. There were people around who can verify that you came on board without coercion.’

‘But that’s not how I’ve stayed,’ she said tautly. ‘You had me locked in.’

‘Did I?’ he countered. ‘Or have we just experienced some teething troubles with an ill-fitting door, perhaps?’

‘No doubt that will be confirmed by Enrique,’ she said bitterly. ‘But it makes no difference. Because now I want to leave.’ She swallowed. ‘I don’t even have to go back to Polkernick, if that’s inconvenient. There are loads of harbours along the coast. You could simply drop me ashore at one of them, and be rid of me. I—I promise I’ll make no official complaint.’

‘A selfless thought,’ he returned. ‘And a real temptation. But no chance, my pet. We’re sailing off into tomorrow’s sunrise. Together.’

‘But why are you doing this?’ Her voice was a strained whisper. ‘Why? I don’t understand.’

Diaz straightened, coming away from the door and walking across to her. Standing over her so that in spite of herself she shrank back against the cushions.

His voice bit. ‘To make sure that Carrie’s wedding, however ill-advised I may think it, goes ahead, unhindered and unhampered by any dramatic revelations from you, darling.’

His eyes were hard. ‘You see, Rhianna, I just don’t think you can be trusted. I think you spell trouble in every line of that delectable body that you use to such effect. But what finally tipped the scales against you was when I caught you parading yourself in front of the mirror yesterday—taking advantage of Carrie’s momentary absence to see how her wedding dress and veil would look if you were wearing them instead of her.’

Rhianna felt the colour drain from her face. ‘So it was you,’ she said. ‘I thought I heard someone.’

His mouth curled. ‘Unfortunately for you—yes. I could hardly believe what I was seeing. Dear God, you’d only been in the house five minutes and already you were pretending to be the bride. Imagining yourself taking her place. And who could guarantee you might be not be tempted to turn your pathetic little fantasy into reality?’

She said hoarsely, ‘Diaz—you have to let me explain…’

‘Not necessary,’ he said. ‘You see, I came back a little later to tell you—warn you that I’d seen you—and tell you for the last time to go. Only I discovered that you were otherwise engaged, talking to bloody Simon.’

She said thickly, ‘And you listened?’

‘Wild horses wouldn’t have dragged me away,’ he returned harshly. ‘It was—most revealing. Everything finally made a kind of sick sense.’

He looked at her with contempt. ‘I don’t know if being pregnant by the bridegroom is the kind of “just impediment” the Church was thinking of when it wrote the marriage service, but I sure as hell wasn’t planning to find out. I couldn’t risk you staging some hysterical last-minute confession scene, Rhianna, some touching plea for your unborn child. So I decided it would be better if you were removed—out of harm’s way. And, ironically, Simon’s ghastly mother supplied me with the means.’

‘How fortunate for you,’ she said hoarsely. ‘And if she hadn’t?’

‘I’d have found some other way.’ He gave her a cynical look. ‘And you won’t be gone for too long,’ he added. ‘Not enough to jeopardise your abortion plans anyway. I presume there’s an appointment already booked?’

‘Yes,’ she said. It was difficult to speak evenly. ‘As it happens, there is.’

‘Good,’ he said. ‘Always best to keep things neat and tidy. Although even if Simon had been free to marry you I can’t imagine you wanting to have the child,’ he went on. ‘After all, nothing must impede your precious career, and a pregnant Lady Ariadne would never do.’

‘Totally out of character, I agree.’ She lifted her brows, fighting the pain that raked her. ‘I didn’t realise you were such a fan.’

‘I’m not,’ he said. ‘I simply found it—instructive. To see what you’ve become.’

‘I’ve become a highly paid professional actor,’ she said stonily. ‘I’m not ashamed of that. But my screen persona and my private life are leagues apart, whatever you may want to believe. And forget that garbage about the casting couch too. I don’t go in for casual sex. As you would have found out, Mr Penvarnon, dinner is one thing, but I’d have to love a man before I slept with him.’

She saw his jaw muscles clench and braced herself for anger, but when he spoke his voice was cool.

‘Then let me put your mind at rest,’ he said. ‘The term “advance honeymoon” was only a figure of speech. I wouldn’t really want Simon Rawlins’ leavings.’

‘I’m sure,’ she said. ‘But I still have a problem. As you’ve already noticed, I’m pretty recognisable, and if we’re seen together—in Spain, France, or anywhere else—the obvious conclusions will be drawn.’

‘Maybe,’ he said. ‘But when we resume our totally separate lives they’ll have to think again.’

‘And I know what they’ll think,’ she said curtly. ‘That I’m your discarded mistress. You talked about potential headlines earlier. Well, I can see these now: “Ariadne dumped.” “Millionaire turns down TV’s Sex Siren.” I don’t court bad publicity. I can’t afford to. And I shouldn’t think you want it either.’

She paused. ‘Especially if people start digging around, unearthing old scandals. How long, do you think, before that nasty little man from the Duchy Herald is told gloatingly by someone that my mother was your father’s mistress? That she betrayed a sick woman who trusted her, and destroyed her marriage, driving her into a nervous breakdown. Which is why Esther Penvarnon lives in widowed exile to this day—because it’s too painful for her to return.’

She drew a harsh breath. ‘Isn’t that still the authorised version of what happened?’

‘You, of course, have a different one.’

‘I certainly have another perception of my mother. You never knew her.’

‘No,’ he said. ‘And you never knew mine.’

‘True. However, I’m sure she wouldn’t want those stories rehashed either, or served up as background to your supposed involvement with me.’

‘Indeed not,’ he said. ‘So I shall make damned sure that our “supposed involvement” remains our little secret, and I advise you most strongly to do the same. Unless you think I missed the vague threat in your last remark.’

He paused. ‘I’m not planning to parade you through the streets of Barcelona, sweetheart, or sunbathe nude with you by a pool on the Côte d’Azur. The paparazzi can’t board this boat, and this is where you’ll stay—until the wedding’s past and gone and the happy couple far away where you can’t touch them.’

He sent her a grim smile as he turned to leave. At the door he hesitated, glancing back at her. ‘In retrospect,’ he said, ‘wouldn’t it have been better just to have taken my advice and stayed in London? Think it over, if by some mischance you can’t sleep. Goodnight, Rhianna.’

‘In retrospect,’ she said, ‘wouldn’t it have been better, in fact, if you and I had never met? You think about that.’

The door closed behind him, and this time she heard the key turn in the lock. For a moment she sat motionless, then she drew a long quivering breath and bent forward, covering her face with her hands.

While in her head a voice whispered over and over again, What can I do? Oh, God, what I can I do? How can I bear this?

But she heard only silence in reply.

CHAPTER SIX (#ulink_5fff7eb4-ee9b-5000-9835-f361fb0ee7ef)

AS A confrontation, she thought painfully, it had not gone too well. She might have had the last word, but the upper hand had eluded her completely.

What on earth had possessed her to rake up past history to throw at him? They both knew what had happened, and nothing could change that—a certainty she’d lived with during the whole five years since she’d first learned the truth.

The summer when her life had changed forever.

She’d had her eighteenth birthday, acknowledged as usual by a card from her aunt, and celebrated joyously by a night out in Falmouth with Carrie and some of the girls from school. Her final examinations had been over, and she’d been waiting for the results—although her grades hadn’t really been all that important, she reflected unhappily, as Aunt Kezia had refused point-blank to allow her to apply for a university place, unlike Carrie, who’d been hoping to go to Oxford.