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CHAPTER 33
With the corner of her eye, Cassandra got a glimpse of Sébastien. He was looking in front of him, but she could sense a change in his demeanor. Maybe her words were breaching the pain she inflicted with her running away. Cassandra continued.
“So much money had been spent, so much emotion invested. My parents were old. I knew they wanted to see me settled before it was too late. And I just… I couldn’t stop it. I knew I was making a mistake. I’d isolated myself spectacularly in a bubble of make-believe. And yet still I hoped for the best, put my trust in what I’d witnessed growing up, thought everything would work out for the best.”
Cassandra felt Sébastien turn towards her, but couldn’t look at him. Her eyes stung with tears but her voice didn’t waver.
“I was just a baby, Sébastien… I was only twenty-two. I hardly knew myself, never mind Brian. I subju
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She desperately tried to claw back some semblance of control. He rocked back on his heels and a different light came into his eyes. An altogether more dangerous light. And Cassandra could see that she was effectively trapped. The space between the seats was far too narrow for her to even attempt to push past him, and the only alternative would be to jump into the next aisle, a far too unladylike and desperate way to escape. And, in the skirt she was wearing, utterly impossible. Cassandra felt unbelievably threatened. She called up her best brusque manner and hitched her laptop bag strap higher on her shoulder, hoping he’d take the hint.“This conversation is getting us nowhere, mister. Now, really, I have to get back to my office, and I’m sure you have somewhere far more exciting to be.” After a long, i
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The gesture was fleeting but absolutely earth-shattering. He broke their eye contact, leaving Cassandra feeling curiously emptied. With a brief, succinct excuse muttering something about getting drinks, James left them alone. The rest of the crowd Sébastien Monfort had been talking to melted away too. He turned back, fixing on her with that intense gaze again.“You’ve had time to change, I see. Tell me, is this work too?” Cassandra's body got taut. Hot, burning irritation was rising.“Of course, I changed… It’s a party. And, yes, this is still work.” His eyes swept down, taking in what she knew to be a perfectly suitable although very unexciting dress. It was a black shift, high-neck
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“I don’t appreciate being manipulated into this kind of situation, Monsieur Monfort.” Sébastien looked at Cassandra’s tight-lipped profile from across the other side of the car and had to subdue the urge to show her exactly how much she might appreciate being manipulated. He knew she felt the simmering tension between them too. At one point during the interview earlier, when she’d had the temerity to dig so deep, way too deep into his life, their eyes had stayed locked together for long seconds and he’d read the latent desire in those amber depths even if Cassandra tried to deny it. “I prefer to think of it as a gentle nudging.” She cast a glimpse at him and made some kind of inarticulate sound. “There was nothing gentle about it. Your unspoken threat was very clear, Monsieur Monfo
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By the time Cassandra was standing in her tiny kitchen the next morning drinking her usual cup of tea, she felt much more in control. She only had to look around her small house to feel on firmer ground. This was reality. This was all she’d been able to afford after Brian had died. Her mouth tightened. Contrary to what everyone believed, she hadn’t been left a millionairess after her football-star husband had died in the accident. She was still picking up the pieces emotionally and financially from her five years of marriage. And, while her emotional scars might heal one day, the financial ones would be keeping her in this tiny cottage and working hard for every cent for a very long time. The truth was that Brian had left astronomical debts behind him and, because their divorce hadn’t come
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