Rebel's Bargain

‘If you’ll excuse us?’ Poppy linked her arm through Orsino’s and drew him away from a cluster of Baudin executives. ‘We just need to …’ Poppy used her trademark smile as she gestured to the far side of the room, as if she’d noticed someone they needed to see.

‘Where are we going?’ Orsino’s deep voice skimmed her flesh, making her shiver.

‘Somewhere private.’ Poppy sensed his gaze sharpen.

Thankfully he didn’t question, just let her lead him past knots of models and executives, socialites and minor royals, till at last the noise receded.

They stopped in a secluded hexagonal room jutting out over the river. It held a writing desk and chair and a wide window seat that ran beneath the angled walls.

There were no lights bar the flood of moonlight and the torches outside. This would be easier in the dark. Poppy closed the door behind her with a quiet snick.

Immediately Orsino reached for her, his hand covering her breast, the other wrapping round her waist as his head dipped.

‘I do like a woman who shows initiative,’ he purred in a bass rumble against her throat as he gathered her to him. Instantly her body melted, lax in his hold, liquid heat firing at her core. Her breathing was choppy, needy, like the way she clung to him.

One touch was all it took.

But through the fierce surge of sexual excitement rose the knowledge that what she needed from Orsino was more even than this.

A sob rose in her throat as fear stifled joy. When he knew what she had to tell him would it be the end?

She wasn’t sure how she’d survive if he left her again. But she couldn’t go on, living from hour to hour, waiting for him to declare it was over. She had to try.

‘Poppy?’ His hot breath hazed her cheek as he straightened. ‘What is it?’

For an instant she clung tight to his shoulders, wishing they could stay just like this. Then she straightened, pushed him back.

‘We need to talk.’

‘Talk?’ He sounded confused, as if she spoke a foreign language. She didn’t blame him. Her body was on fire. The urge to lose herself in his embrace and the ecstasy she knew he could give her was strong.

But that wouldn’t last.

Poppy took a half pace back and stiffened her shoulders.

‘I have something important you need to hear. Will you listen?’

With the moonlight behind him she couldn’t read his expression, just the lift of his straight shoulders.

‘Yes.’

He didn’t sound encouraging. ‘I want you to promise.’

‘What?’ His tone was sharp.

‘Promise you’ll hear me out. You won’t leave till I’ve finished.’

Silence reigned. Did he, too, remember that night five years ago when he’d walked away, refusing to let her finish what she had to say? Distraught as she’d been, anger had buoyed her through the intervening months when she’d faced the fallout of his desertion. Now the anger had died.

Poppy clasped her hands, tension winding through her.

‘If it means so much to you.’

‘It does.’

‘Very well.’ He inclined his head and she breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I’ll stay.’

‘Do you want to sit?’ She waved to the chair.

‘I’m fine.’ He paused, waiting. ‘What is it, Poppy?’ Did she imagine warmth in his tone?

‘I want to tell you about the past.’

‘Not my favourite topic. Haven’t we said it all?’

She shook her head, the movement jerky as tendons and muscles stiffened. ‘No. Not everything.’

Poppy heaved a deep breath then realised she had no idea where to start. How could she make him understand?

Orsino moved, his hand brushing hers, and she jumped. Swallowing, she turned away and walked to the window, barely registering the exquisite scene of river and formal garden washed in silvery light. It would be easier if she didn’t look at him.

‘When I met you I wasn’t looking for a lover, much less a husband.’ The words tumbled into waiting silence. Poppy pressed her hands together. ‘I was focused on my job. On making a success of myself.’

‘I remember.’ There was a sour note in Orsino’s voice. He’d accepted her work but never gone out of his way to support it.

Poppy swung round, needing him to understand. ‘You heard what my father was like. Can you blame me for wanting to escape? For wanting to build a life for myself and my mother, free of him?’

‘Of course not.’ Orsino’s bulk loomed larger in the dim light.

‘I know you work hard, Orsino. I’ve seen the programs you’re involved in.’ Those glimpses into his philanthropic interests had amazed her. ‘But you never had to build yourself up from nothing. You had family money behind you.’