Her gaze lost its compassionate softness and her small, neat chin came up to a combative height. ‘Unlike you, Monsieur Caffarelli, I don’t have squillions in my bank account. So yes, I’m here for the money. I’m sorry if you find that hard to stomach but, quite frankly, if it weren’t for the money your brother is paying me I wouldn’t spend another minute of my time with you.’ She put her napkin down like someone throwing down a gauntlet and pushed her chair back from the table to stand up.
‘Sit down, Miss Archer,’ he commanded.
Her slate-blue eyes flashed mutinously. ‘Why, so you can continue to snip and snarl at me like a bad-tempered dog? No, thanks. I can think of much better ways to spend the evening.’
Raoul clenched his jaw so hard he felt his teeth grind together like granite against a grindstone. ‘You will do as I say. Do you hear me? Sit down.’
She gave him glare for glare. ‘I think I can see why your fiancée broke off your engagement. It had nothing to do with your accident or your injuries. It’s your my-way-or-the-highway personality that’s the problem.’
Had he ever met a more headstrong, opinionated woman? Raoul was used to people—and women, in particular—doing what he said even before he said it. Lily Archer was wilful and defiant and was a little too ready to express her opinions. Having her here reminded him too much of the power he had lost. She was rubbing his nose in it every chance she could. What had his brother been thinking, getting her to come here? The sooner she left—and to hell with the money—the better.
‘Get out of my sight,’ he ground out.
‘See what I mean?’ She gave him a pert look. ‘You chop and change like the wind. You’re moody and unpredictable. No woman in her right mind would put up with that, no matter how filthy rich you are.’
‘I want you out of here by morning,’ Raoul said through tight lips.
‘Fine.’ She gave him an airy thanks-for-that smile. ‘I’ll go up and pack right now.’
You just gave her what she wants. She wanted to get out of jail free and you just signed the release slip.
Dominique came out with the main course just as Lily breezed past. The housekeeper turned and looked at Raoul with a crestfallen expression. ‘What’s going on? I thought you two were getting on like a house on fire.’
Raoul wheeled back from the table with an angry scowl. ‘Don’t ask or I’ll fire you on the spot.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
IT WAS TOO hot to sleep. Or maybe it wasn’t the summer temperature at all but rather Lily’s overheated temper. She was packed and ready to leave, as Raoul Caffarelli had so rudely commanded, but a part of her was struggling with taking the easy way out.
To leave would be admitting defeat.
Raoul was certainly a challenge, with his forceful personality and stubborn ways, but underneath that brooding, angry and resentful exterior she sensed he was essentially a good man. Didn’t his care and support of the former street kid Etienne prove it? He treated all of his staff cordially, if a little distantly. He had not said a bad word about his ex-fiancée, publically or privately, even though she had clearly hurt him by rejecting him the way she had. Didn’t that suggest he was at heart a decent and honourable man?
He was angry and bitter and finding it hard to cope with what had happened to him. Lily understood that far more than he could ever realise. She had railed at the world, too. She had pushed everyone who cared about her away. She had felt so dreadfully alone but she had sabotaged every attempt to reach her emotionally.
Wasn’t he doing the same?
What if she could help him? It seemed a shame to walk out and leave him to his own devices. Like a lot of men with an achievement-based personality, he had a tendency to overdo things, which could compromise his recovery. But he had more feeling in his legs than the Sheikh’s daughter Halimah had at the start, and he was incredibly fit and strong.
But he had made up his mind, and she couldn’t see him changing it any time soon. She had her money and that was all that mattered. It would be embarrassing going back to London so soon, but that was hardly her fault. Raoul Caffarelli would test an angel’s patience, and she knew she was no angel, or at least not in his presence. He seemed to bring out the worst in her. She hadn’t realised she had a sharp tongue until he had made her use it.
He was rude and arrogant and she was glad to be leaving.