If he had a son he would not be able to stand shoulder to shoulder with him to teach him everything he knew about being a man.
It was impossible for him to imagine being a father without the full use of his legs.
He didn’t want to be a father if he couldn’t be a whole one.
How cruel was fate to snatch something away from you just when you realised you wanted it? Raoul didn’t want to spend the rest of his life pining for what he had lost. He didn’t want to end up bitter and twisted like his grandfather. But how could he possibly settle for a life without the very things everyone else took for granted?
He would always be the one sitting to one side while everyone else was up and dancing through life. He would be the one everyone privately pitied or stayed well clear of in case the blow of fate was somehow catching.
‘Are you in pain?’ Lily’s voice jolted him out of his reverie of misery.
‘Why do you ask?’
‘You were frowning so heavily I thought you must be uncomfortable. You’ve done a lot of sitting today.’
‘I can hardly work at my computer if I can’t sit or stand,’ Raoul said with a fresh wave of frustration at his situation.
‘Have you got a laptop? You could lie down and work on that. It would take the pressure off those discs.’
‘I use my bed for sleeping or for sex, although lately I’m doing neither.’ He scraped his hair back with his left hand. ‘I can’t remember the last time I slept more than an hour or two in one stretch.’
‘Have you tried taking some sleeping medication for a couple of nights, just to break the cycle?’
Raoul gave her a quelling look. ‘I’m not going to be turned into a pill popper, Miss Archer. Dependency is not my thing, in spite of what you might think about my current use of alcohol. I’ve only been drunk a couple of times in my life and both times I hated the loss of control.’
‘I just thought it might help if—’
‘You know what would help?’ he clipped back. ‘Being able to exercise properly. I like being physically active. I don’t feel alive unless I get my blood pumping. I don’t know any other way to live.’
She gave him one of her compassionate looks that made Rao
ul feel a brute for snapping at her. ‘I’m sorry...’
He let out a muttered curse as he put his napkin on the table next to his plate. ‘I’m the one who should be apologising.’ Not that he was going to, of course. He never apologised. Besides, he hadn’t asked for her to be here. It wasn’t helping him one little bit having her to witness his pain and frustration. He wanted to be alone. He needed to be alone. ‘I’m not the most convivial company right now.’
‘I’m not here to be entertained.’
‘No, you’re here for the money, right?’ Just like his grandfather’s domestic minions, obsequiously pretending they cared about him just so they could collect their wage at the end of the day. He would be a fool to be taken in by her mask of empathy. She was just like everyone else, out for whatever she could get.
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.’