The Mills & Boon Stars Collection. Cathy Williams

realise that.’ She licked her lips. ‘Do you really think I want to feel this way? Because I don’t—but I needed to be honest with you. I lied to you in the past about stuff and I think you realised I had reasons for keeping the truth hidden. But I don’t ever want to do that again. And since our relationship is supposed to be based on truth then you need to hear it. And the truth is that I’ve fallen in love with you, Rafe. I’ve tried my best to stop myself but there doesn’t seem to be a thing I can do about it.’

      She stared straight into his face, willing him to say something, but she was met only with silence.

      ‘Only something tells me that love won’t work in a marriage which was only ever supposed to be practical,’ she continued unsteadily. ‘I thought... I thought I could do practical, but I was wrong. I’m not going to opt for second best. Call me stupid or unrealistic, but I’d rather hold out for love—even if that never happens.’

      He nodded his head like a mathematics teacher who’d just been presented with a tricky equation and as Sophie waited, didn’t part of her hope her words might have struck a chord, even if it was just a little one? That there might be a platform from which to springboard her growing feelings. What if he told her that he was receptive to the idea of love—would that be enough for them to go on? Wouldn’t the tiniest crack in his armour mean that some of her love might be able to slip inside and warm him? She kept her eyes fixed on his face and watched as something in his expression changed. And it was as if the shutters had suddenly been lifted for there was no disguising the sudden hostility which gleamed so hard and silver from his eyes.

      ‘I told you emphatically that I didn’t do love,’ he said. ‘And you know why? Because it means nothing. Nothing. I’ve seen greed and lust and ambition, all masquerading as love. Did you really think that your words might bring about a fundamental change of heart, Sophie? That I was going to have a personality change just because you looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and told me words I never wanted to hear?’

      Sophie felt that little spark of hope crumble inside her, like a heap of dust onto which a heavy boot had just stamped. She wanted to break down. To sink to her knees and let the great slurry of dark emotions come sliding down onto her head. But she would not. She could not. She was going to walk away from this relationship with her heart shattered, but she would make sure that her dignity was kept intact.

      ‘No, Rafe,’ she said quietly. ‘I didn’t think that, although I’d be lying if I denied that’s what I was hoping for. I thought you might be open-minded enough to the idea that feelings can sometimes grow if you let them—but maybe you won’t let them. Or maybe you can’t.’ She met his stony gaze and nodded her head. ‘We need to tell the King so that no announcement of our engagement will be made. We need to end it, as of now. Well, not tonight, obviously. But first thing tomorrow.’

      ‘So I’m to go to your brother and tell him that my vow was worthless?’

      ‘Oh, don’t worry. I’ll tell him. I’ll make sure he knows that you didn’t break your precious word and that the fault was all mine. I should... I should never have agreed to it.’

      ‘Another marriage which has fallen by the wayside just before it reached the altar,’ he observed. ‘Are you really prepared to go through with the damage to your reputation, Sophie?’

      ‘Better a brief spell of shattered pride than a lifetime of disillusion,’ she flared back. ‘Of always having to hide my feelings for fear that you might mistake them for lust or greed or ambition.’ She swept the palm of her hand back over her chignon, checking that her appearance was pristine enough to face any servant she might encounter on the way back to her room, and then lifted her chin to direct one final look at him. ‘Your words can sometimes be cruel, Rafe—but I suppose I should be grateful for your candour. Because, for the moment at least—I’m finding it very easy not to love you.’

       CHAPTER TWELVE

      HE HAD EVERYTHING he wanted. Everything. So why wasn’t it enough?

      Rafe paced the floor of his Manhattan apartment, where outside the glitter of skyscrapers meant you couldn’t really see the darkness of the night sky. A bit like him. He was functioning as normal. Closing deals and starting new ones. Working out and going to parties. Life had to go on in every sense. He knew that. He’d even taken a woman to the theatre last night.

      He stopped his relentless pacing and gave a ragged sigh. She must have thought he was crazy. Successful and beautiful, she’d made it plain she’d like nothing more than to have him share her bed.

      And just the thought had left him cold. Worse than cold. His skin had crawled at the thought of touching a woman. Any woman.

      Except Sophie.

      Damn her.

      His pacing resumed. Why the hell couldn’t he stop thinking about her, despite his conviction that this was the best thing for both of them? Because if he couldn’t give her what she really wanted then neither of them would be satisfied.

      An image of her face swam into his mind. Her eyes as blue as a Queensland sky. Her dark hair threaded with sapphires or tumbling free over bare shoulders. The cool smile she’d given him as he’d left Isolaverde. He’d thought the flatness in her eyes had been for the benefit of her watching brother, who was clearly irritated by this latest turn of events. But then Rafe realised it was all for him. There had been no reproach in her gaze—just a quiet dignity, which had preoccupied him all the way home to America and continued to preoccupy him.

      So what was he going to do about it?

      His mouth tightened.

      He had a problem. Wasn’t it about time he started seeking a solution?

      * * *

      Bright sunlight flooded into the breakfast room of the Isolaverdian palace and the King sat back and regarded his younger sister.

      ‘I wondered if you might take a run out to Assimenios Beach today,’ said Myron.

      Sophie pushed away her half-eaten dish of grapefruit segments and forced a smile to her lips. The one which seemed to split her face in half but which she hoped Myron found convincing. He probably did. He wasn’t exactly the kind of man who spent his life analysing the facial expressions of women, especially not those of his sister. Why should he care if she was happy or not?

      ‘Any particular reason?’ she questioned.

      ‘Could be. I’m thinking of building a house there,’ said Myron. ‘And I’d like your input.’

      ‘Mine?’

      ‘Sure. Why not?’

      Sophie opened her mouth to say she wasn’t sure her opinion was up to much at the moment, then quickly shut it again. Because wasn’t this another sign that Myron was being more inclusive—something she had told him she wanted? It wasn’t his fault that she wasn’t firing on all cylinders, she thought as she went to her room and crammed on a light straw hat over her ponytailed hair. It wasn’t anybody’s fault except for...

      She stared into the mirror, aware of the new definition of her cheekbones and the shadowed hollows of her eyes. She had to stop thinking this way. She couldn’t blame Rafe. She really couldn’t, because he’d been honest with her from the start. If there was any blame to be apportioned, she should heap it all on herself because she had been the one who had been unable to settle for what he was offering. She was the one who’d wanted more than he was capable of giving. He’d ruled out love from the start but she had demanded it—a bit like someone walking into a fish restaurant and demanding to know why there was no steak on the menu.

      And it wasn’t as if she were without choices. She might have yet another failed love affair behind her, but things had changed. She was getting stronger by the day. Sometimes she even managed a whole fifteen minutes before Rafe’s shuttered features would swim into her mind and she’d be reminded