The Forgotten Gallo Bride. Natalie Anderson

      She looked uncomfortable and didn’t answer. His eyes narrowed. What didn’t she want to tell him? Was she Jasper’s latest little affair? His anger flared irrationally. He forced himself to breathe evenly and assess the facts. She wasn’t Jasper’s type. And given the way she’d blushed before at his out of order assumption, she wasn’t the type at all.

      ‘He helped me out with something a while back,’ she eventually answered evasively. ‘Have you eaten dinner?’

      ‘That’s not your concern.’ But even as he answered his stomach growled. He wondered if she’d eaten. She looked as if she could do with something hot and filling. Where the hell had she driven from anyway? And why? And he did not want to be wondering about her like this.

      She walked the length of the hall, not bothering to hide her curiosity behind a veil of politeness. ‘The house is dark and cold.’

      Her tone wasn’t judgmental but he felt argumentative. ‘Maybe I like it that way.’

      ‘You like to make it as unwelcoming as possible?’ She flashed that impish smile as she turned back to face him. ‘Are you that afraid of people?’

      The edgy question was softened not so much by that smile as the shining candour in her eyes but it didn’t defuse his simmering anger.

      ‘I work hard and I don’t like interruptions,’ he corrected, refusing to be melted by her radiance, refusing to be drawn nearer to her. But the pull was powerful. He glared, infuriated by his primary, base response to her. ‘And I don’t need a baby-faced babysitter. It really is time for you to leave.’

      Except he couldn’t help wondering where she would go.

      Her smile faded and a confused look entered her eyes, dulling the sea-green brilliance. Stupidly he felt he’d disappointed her in some way. He didn’t like it.

      ‘I’m not as young as you seem to think,’ she suddenly declared with a lift to her chin, as if she’d made up her mind about something and was determined to see it through. ‘I was married once.’

      He huffed out a breath, stunned that her words wounded him in a niggling way. ‘But you’re not now?’ he replied softly. The silence hung with significance.

      Her eyelids dropped and she looked down, as if it hurt to hold his gaze. ‘I guess it wasn’t meant to be.’

      ‘I’m sorry,’ Tomas said stiffly. Not so innocent then; she’d been bruised. The thought of her being hurt grated on his already strained nerves.

      He cursed Jasper for sending her to him.

      He walked back to the front door, but when he opened it he saw that, while the hail had stopped, the rain had returned. It was almost completely dark now and it would be impossible for her to see three feet in front of her while driving. No way could he let her leave in this weather. Inwardly he cursed more.

      ‘It isn’t safe for you to leave tonight,’ he said gruffly. ‘You’ll have to stay here.’

      He looked at her again and something stirred in the back of his mind. Had he said those words to her before?

      He scowled at the déjà vu—the trick of a feeble mind.

      He loathed it when it happened. Hated thinking there might be a memory just out of reach and that there was nothing he could do to draw it closer or clearer. The most random, inconsequential things sparked it. He paused, waiting, hoping the fragment would float to the forefront of his mind.

      It didn’t. It never did.

      Frustration flamed his anger to fury. He stepped towards her, his gaze narrowing. The shine in her eyes had gone. So had her smile.

      ‘Do I know you?’ He rapped the question, like machine-gun fire, hating that he was compelled to ask. Hated giving his weakness away.

      * * *

      ‘No,’ Zara answered baldly, her throat aching from holding back her disappointment. She’d tried to prompt him just then, but it seemed that what had happened a year ago had been so minor that he’d forgotten it. He’d forgotten her.

      She knew it was stupid to feel it, but the reality of her insignificance crushed her. Yet what had she expected? This wasn’t a fairy tale. It never had been and never would be. It had been one afternoon, one night, one morning. It had been nothing to him, not even worth remembering.

      And she hadn’t just lied. He didn’t know her. He never truly had.

      But that hadn’t stopped him from marrying her.

CHAPTER TWO

      ‘I want your niece.’

      IT HAD BEEN for less than two days and it had been total madness. But it had been real. They’d married.

      She should try again to remind him outright, but she was too mortified. That year’s worth of imaginings, of meeting him again and hoping to change his first impression of her? That she could show she was no longer that weak woman who’d needed rescuing—that she was strong and capable and going places—that kernel of hope that he might see her in a different light?

      She’d been so stupid.

      She had to get away from him—from here—immediately.

      She stepped towards the still-open doorway, but before she got there he closed it and faced her, blocking the exit.

      ‘You’ll stay here for the night and travel on in the morning when the weather has eased,’ he said.

      His dictatorial tone checked her momentarily, but she held her ground. ‘And if it hasn’t eased?’

      ‘You’ll at least be able to see in the light.’

      ‘My car has good headlights, I think it’s better if I leave now.’ The last thing she wanted was to stay here.

      ‘No.’ His tone brooked no argument.

      She remembered that implacable decisiveness and the air of authority so very well. Once he’d made his mind up that was it. Done. He couldn’t be crossed or fought. She’d seen that when he’d dispatched the argument of her uncle with an icy blade. And there was that weak part of her that still wanted his recognition to come.

      ‘If you’d care to show me the kitchen,’ she said coldly. ‘The least I can do is make some supper for us both.’

      And she’d be on the phone to Jasper as soon as she was alone.

      ‘I don’t need anything, but please help yourself to anything you may like,’ he replied equally coolly.

      He refrained from indulging in a smile of satisfaction, but that obvious restraint made her all the more annoyed. He was too used to getting his own way.

      ‘You must be hungry after your journey,’ he added formally.

      He was determined to reject her assistance in any way, yet was insistent she accept his help. It was an arrogantly unfair power play. He’d ensured she was reliant on him, yet he refused any assistance or even kindness from her.

      One day she’d make him accept it somehow, some time. Just for once she didn’t want to be the weak one.

      She followed him down the long cold corridor. In the light she now noticed a very slight limp as he walked.

      ‘My office is on the second floor, but the kitchen is this way,’ he explained briefly. ‘Where have you driven from today, Zara?’

      ‘Up north,’ she answered carefully.

      She was hyper aware of the latent strength in his lean physique as she followed him. He seemed more ruthless, he smiled a whole lot less, but he was still breathtaking. She’d forgotten just how much he fascinated her. Fortunately he didn’t appear to realise the effect he had on her. Thank goodness.