Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
And even though it terrified him to death—-
He couldn’t help but hope.
Ah, these hands of hers.
Perhaps...he still had a chance to hold on to them, forever.
Five
Anneke fidgeted restlessly on her seat, unable to believe that she had allowed Marcus Ravelli persuade her into having coffee with him. This was such a bad idea, a really, really bad idea—-
So was why she was still here, waiting on the table like a good girl just because Marcus had told her to?
She took hold of her luggage, but as soon as she rose to her feet, she heard the Italian billionaire drawl from behind, “Thinking of running away, bambina?”
Crap. Pride forbade her to admit the truth, and as soon as he came into view, she said stiffly, “Actually, I was thinking to check if you had run out on me.” And then she heard herself add, “Which you’ve already done in the past – oh!” Her hands flew to cover her offending mouth as soon as Anneke realized what she had just blurted out. Dear Lord, where had that come from?
She held her breath, mentally cringing at the many things Marcus could say, but instead he only handed Anneke her coffee, and she took it, stammering, “T-thank you.”
“Shall we?” He gestured to their seats.
She nodded jerkily and as soon as she took her seat, Marcus followed suit.
And then silence.
Crap, oh crap.
“Well, then...”
Anneke held her breath again.
“That was one hell of an icebreaker.”
A small squeak of embarrassment escaped her. “I’m sorry,” Anneke blurted out. “I don’t know what came over me.”
“No apologies necessary,” Marcus said smoothly, “since it’s completely true.”
In a blink of an eye, the moment of lightheartedness between them came to an end, and a tense kind of silence fell in replacement.
So they were really going to do this then, Anneke thought dumbly. They were finally going to hash things out, here, now. As she raised the cup to her lips and took a sip, she felt his gaze settle on her, dark and intense.
As she lowered the cup, Marcus began, “I’d like to—-”
Anneke cut him off, saying stiltedly, “Willem told me you were fighting the divorce because you wanted to ask me why. He said you were waiting for me to come to you, to ask you why you were doing the things you were doing.”
Marcus stilled.
“He said—-” And this time, Anneke could no longer keep her voice from trembling. “He said you weren’t acting like a husband who had thrown his wife away on their first night of marriage.”
Marcus sucked his breath. “Anneke—-”
She shook her head, forcing his words to a stop. “But we both know that’s exactly what happened.”
Marcus put his own cup on the table, fearing he’d accidentally crush it. Leaning forward, he said in a low, driven tone, “It won’t happen again.”
Anneke couldn’t help raising her gaze to his, asking incredulously, “That’s all you have to say?”
“No.” His tone was curt. “I can say with complete honesty that I haven’t fucked another woman since you left me. And that includes the woman you saw me with that night—-”
“Liar.” Anneke could only stare at Marcus. What in the world made him think she was so gullible she’d fall for such a lie?
“I can prove it.” There was a slight pause, and then Marcus said abruptly, “And your brother Jaak can testify that it is so.”
The words stunned her into silence. Jaak? Her own brother could corroborate such a story?
“I don’t believe you,” she whispered.
Marcus took his phone out of his pocket and laid it on the table. “Then call him and ask him yourself.” When she didn’t say a word, he pushed the phone closer to her, saying forcefully, “Call him—-”
“No!”
When patrons from other tables turned to look at them, it was only then Anneke realized how dangerously close she was to succumbing to hysterics—-
Oh God.
It was starting all over again, her world turning upside-down and it was because of him, always because of him.
Marcus Ravelli.
When Anneke turned to him, the look of vulnerability on her face tore at him. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, “but I just can’t do this.” And then she was rising clumsily to her feet.
Panic struck him, and he stood up right away. “Anneke—-” He caught hold of her wrist just as she turned away.
Keeping her head turned away from his, she muttered under her breath, “Please let me go.” The heat of his touch was bringing back too many memories, and they all hurt. She tried yanking her wrist out of his hold, but this only caused his grip to tighten, and her frustration and terror grew. “Please let me go. Can’t you see we’re causing a scene—-”
“I don’t give a damn,” he muttered back. “All I give a damn about is keeping you from leaving—-”
Only when she heard his last words did she realize how close she was, tottering over the edge, and now she was falling, breaking, snapping—-