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‘Make what worse? I want you to—’
‘I suggest you think about what it is you really want,’ she interrupted again. ‘And why you want it. Then come back to me. Then we’ll talk.’
‘You’re taking this all wrong.’
‘Am I? You want me to be some sort of mistress, Jared? Some kind of exclusive whore?’
‘Don’t talk like that.’
‘Like what? Honestly?’
‘All I want is to see you set up in a place better than this. This isn’t safe.’
‘Oh, right.’ She stood up from the bed and took the sheet with her. ‘So it’s all about me. This is for my benefit. Well, how generous of you, Jared. First Grandfather and now me. I understand you owe him. How is it you owe me?’
‘This isn’t about deals or debts.’ He sat up, uncaring of his nudity, just frustrated and failing to see her problem.
‘No? Then what is it about?’
He fell silent.
‘Like I say, Jared. Think about what you want and what you’ve just done. Is it an offer or an insult?’
‘The offer is there. It’s up to you.’
‘I’ll think about it.’ She took the three paces to get as far from him as possible in the room. ‘But right now I want you to leave. This is my little hovel and I need some space. I don’t have the luxury lodge in Queenstown to escape to. I want my room to myself.’
He yanked on his jeans. ‘You are such a woman.’
‘As woman as you can get.’
‘You insist on twisting things round.’ He jerked his shirt over his head.
‘I’m not twisting anything, Jared. I’m calling it as I see it.’
‘Well, you see it wrong.’ He glared, hands on hips, wanting to shake her. Why the hell couldn’t she see how her moving would benefit both of them?
‘Get out, Jared.’
He reached into his pocket and retrieved his car key, held it up in front of her. ‘I’m leaving this for you. You’ll need it tomorrow.’
She wanted to refuse. It was written all over her face and in her rigid stance. She wanted to refuse everything he offered—bar the occasional use of his body.
‘I’m leaving it.’ He tossed it across the room; it landed on her stripped-back bed. ‘Do what you like with it.’
The door slammed behind him and then he heard the bolt shoot home.
Chapter Fourteen
AMANDA sat on the plane, staring out of the window at the beautiful snow-capped mountains—the spine of the South Island. That was what she needed—a spine. How else was she going to manage Jared?
Every cell felt hurt and it was easier to think worse of him. Whipping up her anger to block the depth of pain pressing into her ribs. How could he? How dared he treat her like that? But she knew the outrage was futile.
He could. He had. He did. And he would some more.
Ride roughshod over her. He did what he wanted, went for what he wanted with no thought of the impact on other people. Well, that wasn’t strictly true, she acknowledged; he’d thought she’d be pleased—that she’d want to be set up at his beck and call like that. It only highlighted the fact that what they wanted from each other was so drastically different.
But she had such a weakness for him. Saying no for ever seemed impossible. Somehow she had to get away. But that felt impossible too. She still wanted him. She longed for him with a fierce need that had never diminished through the course of time—only intensified. But she had to break it, couldn’t let her feelings for him control her life like that. If she moved for him, she’d be on edge all the time expecting the end. And she couldn’t make do with second best.
If only he hadn’t mentioned it, if they’d continued as they were for a while longer—maybe she could have handled that? She could have kept her hope—deluded herself into thinking more might happen…
But for him to be contemplating some kind of permanent quasi-relationship? That he planned for them to be together but not truly be together for however long he liked? That she couldn’t stomach.
She pushed her head harder back into the headrest as she admitted she couldn’t actually stomach either of those options. She couldn’t be his kept woman, but nor could she ever be satisfied with an ongoing fling. She was a fool to even think it.
She wanted more. Truthfully she’d always wanted more. She wanted it all—the commitment, the vows, the kids.
He never would.
She shifted again in her seat, recrossing her legs for the zillionth time.
‘Don’t be anxious. It’ll be fine.’ The nurse travelling with her from the new rest home smiled at her over her cup of tea.
