‘I didn’t think the publicity angle through,’ she admitted. ‘I suppose I didn’t care. I only gave that interview to Pamela’s brother to wind you up.’
Lysander studied her with unadulterated incredulity. ‘You deliberately set out to annoy me?’
Ophelia evaded his gaze, for, said out loud like that, her plan sounded impossibly childish. ‘I thought if I annoyed you or embarrassed you enough, you’d stop insisting I pretend to be your wife and let me go.’
‘But in the short term you’d sleep with me, giving every impression of enjoyment?’ Lysander slotted in smooth as silk. ‘Where does that fit into this scenario?’
Ophelia breathed in so deep she was surprised she didn’t inflate, while her complexion turned a similar colour to her towel. ‘I don’t want to discuss that.’
‘Naturally not. But you do acknowledge that you send out very mixed signals? And that talking as though you have just escaped imprisonment and certain death in Bluebeard’s castle is rather exaggerated?’
Ophelia tried not to flinch at that scathing comment. She made a desperate effort to change the subject and, with her conscience twanging, opted to be hone
st with him. ‘Look, I don’t know how everything’s got so horribly complicated-’
‘Maybe it’s the fact that you argue about everything-’
‘Or maybe it’s the fact that you just have to be right and have the last word every time-’
‘The point being?’ Lysander prompted drily.
Her eyes flashed. ‘I only agreed to marry you in the first place because I thought it would help me find my sister, Molly. I knew I should be sharing any inheritance I got with her. I was planning to use the money from the sale of the house to trace her.’
Lysander was bewildered. ‘Your sister? You want to find her? Where is she? I don’t understand.’
Ophelia explained to him the story of how she had lost contact with Molly, admitting that she had got her hopes up when the solicitor had mentioned the letter set aside for her wedding day. ‘I was convinced it would contain information about Molly.’
‘But that letter contained the second will, and the existence of a sister wasn’t mentioned in either will.’
‘Gran was ashamed of the fact that Molly was illegitimate. There was also a tiny note placed with the second will saying that Molly had been adopted. I think Gran encouraged me to believe there’d be something important in that letter so that I’d marry you. When I realised that my sister had been put up for adoption I felt like I’d run into a brick wall.’ Painful tears sprang to Ophelia’s eyes and her voice thickened. ‘I don’t even know what her name is now, or anything about her. How am I supposed to track her down?’
Lysander was disconcerted by her story and his usual cynicism was forestalled by her clear distress. ‘I can help you find her. Believe me, there are ways. You should have confided in me before this.’
Ophelia stole a wary glance at him, hope and fear battling inside her. ‘Why? All you wanted was the house and you didn’t care who you had to walk over or what you had to do to get it on your terms.’
For about five seconds, Lysander met her beautiful ice-blue eyes before she looked away. She looked so sad and that made him feel angry and uncomfortable. His superb bone structure was taut, his stubborn mouth set in a bleak line.
‘Confide in you?’ Ophelia repeated in an afterthought, resentment stirred to new heights by that unfair reproof. ‘Nobody in their right mind would confide in you-you wouldn’t be interested.’
‘Of course I’m interested in you!’ Lysander contradicted in fierce disagreement.
Extreme tension hummed in the atmosphere. She lifted her golden head. ‘You’re much more interested in business.’
‘Have you any idea how many thousands of people depend on me for employment? Of the responsibility I carry in a crisis?’
Her eyes fell from his and she shuffled her bare feet because she was all too conscious of her ignorance. ‘No,’ she said ruefully.
Lysander surveyed her with mounting fascination. No, she didn’t have a clue about the stock-market crisis and only understood or cared when he related it to potential job losses. She had already abandoned a pearl and diamond necklace that was worth a king’s ransom, while neglecting to stay married to him for a reasonable length of time would, according to the terms of the pre-nup, lose her a small fortune. Yet she was still prepared to turn her back on any prospect of personal enrichment and leave him. On the ferry. How could she possibly be a gold-digger? No gold-digger would be so hopelessly impractical or uninformed of what was in her own best interests.
‘I want you to stay,’ he breathed grittily.
Her golden head bent, Ophelia made a tiny awkward movement with her hands. ‘I can’t. I know it’s inconvenient for you if I leave-’
Inconvenient? The use of that word was a positive affront to Lysander because it suggested that their marriage was a trivial matter. His strong jaw clenching, he forced himself to swallow back an angry response.
‘Even though I don’t understand why and I’m sorry. But I can’t live with you-’
‘You’re bailing out in the first week. How impressive is that? You’re my wife…’