Christien had fallen very still. ‘Ça alors! Veronique would never have said such a nonsensical thing-’
‘Oh, wouldn’t she? Your childhood playmate probably dug out her calculator in that cradle beside yours, worked out what a catch you were and decided right there and then that only she was going to profit. Who knows…who cares?’ Tabby was mortified that she had let that petty bitterness out and paraded it for him to see. ‘Obviously she knew you had a jealous streak a mile wide and guessed that nothing would kill our relationship faster-’
Febrile colour lying along his superb cheekbones, Christien threw back his broad shoulders and studied her with grim disfavour. ‘It shames me to lose my temper as I just have and throw allegations that I cannot substantiate but I don’t trust you-’
Tabby tilted her chin. ‘And I won’t stand for you accusing me of carrying on with other blokes.’
Eyes glittering gold with anger, Christien vented a harsh laugh. ‘What do you expect me to think when you stay out this late and show up with another man in tow?’
‘It amazes me that you can even ask me that when I’m the one who has never, ever had the luxury of knowing where I stand with you…yet you are so good at criticising my behaviour,’ Tabby condemned with a slow, wondering shake of her head. ‘Four years ago, you had another woman in your life called Eloise and you never once mentioned her existence to me. You got away with it too, because I was too scared to ask awkward questions-’
His lean, strong face was rigid. ‘The minute I saw you it was over with Eloise and it was only a casual thing with her. I ended it soon after I met you. I don’t know how you found out about her, but you only had to ask me. Unlike you, I would have been honest-’
Savaged by that reminder of her past dishonesty, Tabby twisted away from him and switched on the light. ‘So I lied about my age and you know why, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be trusted-’
‘No?’
‘No…any more than it excuses you for implying that I’m a tart,’ Tabby told him with spirit.
‘Where were you until this hour?’
‘I’m not telling you, I’m not answering your questions-’
‘Zut alors…’ Christien growled, raking long, lean, impatient fingers through the black silk luxuriance of his hair. ‘What do you expect from me?’
Tabby was amazed that in spite of all she had already said he still had no idea whatsoever. ‘Respect.’
Christien threw up his expressive hands, studied her with fulminating dark golden eyes, but, while he looked as though he could hardly wait to exercise his sardonic tongue on that ambitious request of hers, he stayed silent.
‘Respect,’ Tabby repeated doggedly. ‘You made a mistake when you decided that I was cheating on you with that boy, Pete, that summer and you owe me an apology.’
‘I…do?’ Burnished dark eyes flared down into hers and she could literally feel the hum of his fierce pride threatening to blow the lid back off his temper again.
‘Particularly for the way you treated me at the accident enquiry…I deserved better. You think about that-’
‘Tu parles…the hell I will!’ Christien raked at her and then, as though as disconcerted by that raw outburst as she was, he swung away.
‘So that’s respect and an apology,’ Tabby listed in reminder, deciding to go for gold in the demand stakes. ‘But if you want houseroom in my life, I want other stuff too…and I’m not sure if you could make the grade.’
Involuntarily, Christien almost grinned, wondering if she thought she could train him with her version of ‘the carrot and the stick’ routine. ‘I score very high between the sheets, ma belle,’ he breathed with husky insolence.
‘But unfortunately an awful lot of life takes place outside the bedroom door and offering me a millionaire’s residence in place of a tiny cottage was the last straw. Even though I’ve told you how I feel, you can’t respect your great-aunt’s wishes or my right to live where I choose,’ Tabby spelt out, a great weariness enfolding her, for the stress of the past forty-eight hours and the lack of rest had drained her of her usual high-wire energy.
‘But-’
‘All I want to do right now is jump off my soapbox, fall into bed and sleep like a log,’ Tabby cut in heavily.
Christien bent down and swept her up into his arms to carry her upstairs. ‘As I wouldn’t like you to risk jumping, your wish is my command.’
‘Put me down…’ Tabby protested in weary frustration, so tired that she was very close to tears.
Christien settled her down on the bed and switched on the lamp. ‘Possibly I was more at home in the millionaire’s residence,’ he remarked in a thoughtful concession. ‘But you liked it too…don’t lie.’
Tabby groaned and let her shoes slide off and drop to the floor. She could not be bothered arguing with him and she let her heavy eyes drift shut. Just to refresh herself for a moment, she promised herself.
Christien gazed down at Tabby while she slept, and sighed. He unbuttoned her shirt and eased it off and removed her skirt. He studied the creamy swell of her breasts above her bra and the incredible peach bloom of her skin and suppressed a groan at his own lack of self-discipline. He wanted to get into bed with her. In fact the intensity of his own desire to be with her even when sex was out of the question unnerved him. He tugged the sheet up over her, put out the light and frowned at the uncurtained window and the front door that lacked any form of proper security. A grim look of disapproval crossed his lean, strong face. He knew that he had decisions to make.
CHAPTER FIVE