A Contract for His Runaway Bride

She gave him the side-eye. ‘Were you jealous?’

‘No.’ His expression was masklike, except for a knot of tension in the lower quadrant of his jaw.

Elodie got off the bed and smoothed her hands over her satin wrap. ‘It was awful, if you want to know...’

She wasn’t sure why she was telling him about a night she would rather wipe from her memory for good. Running into Lincoln with his latest squeeze had rocked her far more than it should. The stunning young woman had been draped all over him, her adoration for him obvious for all to see. It shouldn’t have upset Elodie one iota, but for some reason it had thrown her into a tailspin. His partner had looked so in love with him. The same way Elodie had once looked up at him—as if he was the only man in the world who could make her happy.

Her mind back then had run through a reel of thoughts—would he announce their engagement soon? Would they settle down and have the family he had once wanted with her?

To distract herself, she’d flirted outrageously with Fraser MacDiarmid, determined to show Lincoln she was completely and utterly over him, but it had backfired spectacularly a few months later.

Lincoln rose from the bed in a single movement and came over to her. ‘Did he...hurt you?’ A thread of anger underpinned his voice and his expression was a landscape of concern.

Elodie hugged her arms around her middle and gave him a stiff, no-teeth-showing smile. ‘It was consensual but crappy sex.’

His eyes held hers. ‘You didn’t enjoy it?’

‘If you’re asking did I come, then, no, I didn’t.’

Why are you telling him that?

But it seemed now she’d opened her mouth, she couldn’t stop confessing the rest. She gave him a pointed look. ‘It’s your fault, you know. You’ve spoilt me for anyone else.’

A frown formed on his forehead. ‘What do you mean?’

She blew out a long breath. ‘I haven’t enjoyed sex since we broke up.’

There was a weighted pause.

‘Have there been many lovers?’ Lincoln’s tone was mild—casual, almost—and yet she sensed an undercurrent of avid interest he was trying his best to hide.

Elodie unwound her arms from around her middle. ‘Not as many as I’ve led people to believe.’ She speared a hand through the loose tresses of her hair and continued, ‘I suppose that gives your male ego a massive boost? That I can’t come with anyone else?’

His expression didn’t register surprise, for hardly a muscle moved on his face, and yet she still suspected he was shocked. Deeply shocked. And why wouldn’t he be? The press had documented her every move over the last seven years, linking her with various high-profile men. She had played to the cameras, using every opportunity to lift her profile. Some of the men she had had flings with—many she had not.

‘Casual sex isn’t for everybody.’ His tone was as hard to read as his expression.

Elodie gave a mirthless laugh. ‘You seem to do all right. As I recall, you didn’t even wait a week before finding someone else after our breakup.’

Seeing him in a gossip magazine with an attractive partner within a week of their aborted wedding had struck at her heart like a closed-fist punch. If he had cared for her even a little, wouldn’t he have waited just a while in case she changed her mind? But, no. He’d moved on so rapidly it had confirmed she had done the right thing in calling off their wedding. For if he had loved her wouldn’t he have at least tried to change her mind rather than replace her?

Lincoln rolled his bottom lip over his top one in a contemplative gesture, his eyes still holding hers. After a long moment, he released a long-winded sigh. ‘I didn’t sleep with anyone for months after we split up.’ His voice was low and rough around the edges.

Elodie stared at him, her heart skipping out of its normal rhythm. ‘But...but I thought... Really?’ She leaned on the word, suddenly desperate to know the truth. ‘Why not? And why did you give everyone the impression you’d moved on so quickly?’

Lincoln looked down at the floor, where he was idly using the toe of his shoe to straighten the fringe of the Persian rug. When he raised his gaze back to hers his expression was still unreadable.

‘I’d better let you get some sleep. We fly first thing in the morning.’ He moved across to the door with long, purposeful strides.

‘But wait,’ Elodie said, following him, placing a hand on his arm before he could open the door to leave. She looked up into his enigmatic features, her mind whirling from what he’d told her. ‘Was it because you were hoping I’d come back to you? You thought I might change my mind?’

He held her gaze in an unwavering lock for endless seconds, but there was no clue to what he was thinking. It was like trying to read the expression on a marble statue.

‘Do you really think I would’ve taken you back?’ he said at last, in a cynical tone that stung far more than it should.

Elodie kept her expression as masklike as his. She removed her hand from his arm and stepped back. ‘No.’

The door closed behind him and she let out a rattling sigh.

Why would he if he hadn’t loved her in the first place?

***