The Wedding Party Collection. Кейт Хьюит

do better. ‘Not one about macramé, at any rate.’

      ‘I must admit, I’m relieved it isn’t one of your passions,’ Leo answered. He arched an eyebrow, and she was gratified by the lightness of his expression. ‘It isn’t, is it?’

      ‘No.’ A smile twitched at her mouth. ‘Definitely not one of them.’ Leo just nodded, and despite the obvious opening Alyse knew he wasn’t going to press. He would never press, never ask her about herself, what her passions or even her hobbies were. ‘So, scuba, then?’ she said, keeping her voice bright. ‘I’m not qualified, but I read that they have instructors here who can qualify you with a day course.’

      Leo made a noncommittal noise and Alyse felt the hurt and anger return, filling the empty places inside her. ‘I think you’d enjoy scuba diving,’ she said, and heard a new sharp note enter her voice. ‘It doesn’t allow for any conversation.’

      ‘I have nothing against conversation.’

      ‘Conversation with me, then?’

      He shook his head, annoyance sparking in his eyes. ‘Alyse...’

      ‘I just don’t see,’ she pressed on in a desperate rush, knowing she needed to say it, to get it out there, ‘why we can’t be friends. Our marriage is unconventional, I know. I accept that. But we have to live together, Leo. We have to have a life together of some description. And I would like to do that as—as your friend.’

      Silence. Leo said nothing, just eyed her over the rim of his wine glass. Why, Alyse wondered, did such a benign offer of friendship make her feel so vulnerable? So needy and demanding?

      Because Leo obviously didn’t need anyone, and certainly not her. Not even as a friend.

      ‘Say something,’ she finally said, just to break the awful silence.

      ‘I don’t know what I could say that you’d wish to hear.’

      ‘At this point, anything is better than nothing,’ she answered tartly.

      ‘I’m not sure it’s possible,’ Leo said, each word chosen carefully, ‘for us to be friends.’

      ‘Not possible?’ She stared at him in confusion. ‘Why?’

      ‘Because,’ Leo replied, his voice still so terribly careful, ‘I have no wish to be friends with you.’

      As soon as he said the words, Leo realised how cruel they sounded. Cruel and deliberately cold...and he hadn’t meant it quite like that. Had he?

      From the moment Alyse had started teasing and tempting him in turns—asking for things he didn’t know how to give—he hadn’t known what he meant. How he felt.

      And as for the look on Alyse’s face... She looked stunned for a moment, and then he saw a flash of hurt darken her eyes before she turned her face away, her expression hidden in the dark.

      ‘Alyse...’ he said, although he had no idea how to explain himself, or even if he could. In any case, he didn’t get a chance.

      With a small sound of distress she rose from the table and walked quickly across the beach, her slight form soon swallowed up by darkness.

      Irritation mixed uncomfortably with an already increasing guilt—and a wretched sense of disappointment in himself. He should have handled that better. He should have known how.

      He threw his napkin down and rose, his hands braced flat on the table. ‘Where are you going?’ he called, and from the twilit shadows he heard her muffled response.

      ‘If you’re worried I’m going to do something indiscreet, never fear. I just couldn’t bear sitting at the table with you.’

      His lips twitched with a sudden, macabre humour. ‘I’m not surprised.’ She didn’t answer and he sighed wearily. ‘I can’t even see you,’ he said, taking a few steps towards her. The sand was cool and silky under his bare feet. ‘Where are you hiding?’

      ‘I’m not hiding,’ she snapped, and as he moved closer to the sound of her voice he saw she’d gone to the far side of the little cove, her back to him and the sea as she stood facing the rocky outcropping, her shoulders hunched, her arms wrapped around herself. There wasn’t really anywhere else for her to go.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ he said after a moment. ‘That came out wrong.’

      ‘Was there really room for misinterpretation?’

      ‘I only meant I think it would be easier if we didn’t attempt to be friends.’

      She let out a harsh bark of disbelieving laughter and turned around. ‘Easier? For you, maybe.’

      ‘Yes, for me.’ He shifted his weight, his hands digging into his pockets. ‘I don’t think I need to remind you that this marriage was never meant to be anything but a matter of convenience, Alyse. A business deal.’

      ‘That doesn’t mean it can’t become something else,’ she said quietly. ‘Something more.’

      Something more? Even though he’d begun to suspect she harboured such hopes, the possibility still appalled him.

      ‘Clearly you find that notion horrifying,’ she continued, a hint of mockery in her voice. ‘I’ve reduced you to silence.’

      ‘It’s unexpected,’ he answered carefully. ‘I’ve thought we’ve been in agreement about what our marriage would look like.’

      ‘Considering we never discussed it, I don’t know how we could be, or why you would think so.’

      ‘Considering we both agreed to play-act at a relationship for six whole years,’ he retorted, ‘I’m not sure why you think it would suddenly change now, or why either of us would want it to.’ He stared at her, her chin tilted in determination or maybe even defiance, her eyes sparking silver. Frustration flared within him; this was so unexpected. And he hated how it made him feel—cornered, angry and, damn it, uncertain. He’d been so sure about what he wanted—and what he didn’t want.

      Why was this woman he’d thought he knew so well—that was, not at all—changing and, far more alarmingly, making him change?

      He straightened, arms folded. ‘We both got what we wanted out of this union, Alyse.’

      She lifted her chin a notch. ‘Which is?’

      ‘To restore the monarchy’s reputation and provide an heir.’

      ‘Ah, an heir.’ She folded her arms, mirroring his own implacable stance, and stared him down. ‘And sex with you is such an appealing prospect, considering you just told me you have no interest at all in getting to know me.’

      ‘I don’t know why it would make a difference,’ he answered coolly, and she let out a high, wild laugh.

      ‘I should have known you’d say something like that.’

      Leo raked a hand through his hair. He needed to perform some damage control, and quickly. ‘Look, I told you, I didn’t mean it quite like it sounded. I just never thought about—about friendship.’

      ‘Actually, I think you did mean it. You just didn’t mean for it to sound as brutal as it really is.’ She walked past him back to their table, her dress nearly brushing his legs, and he inhaled the scent of sunshine and sea as she passed.

      After a moment Leo followed her back to the table; she’d sat down and was eating her salad with a methodical diligence that suggested no enjoyment in the food at all.

      Leo sat down as well, although his appetite had, annoyingly, vanished. Gazing at her pale, drawn face, he still felt guilty, as if he’d disappointed or even hurt her somehow. It was a feeling he’d experienced in varying degrees since they’d said their marriage vows, and he didn’t like it.

      He didn’t want her to be hurt, and more to the point he didn’t want to care if she was. Yet somehow he knew both were true,