Bought For The Frenchman's Pleasure Part 10

She cast a quick glance to Romain on her left. 'Don't tell me you're concerned?'

'Not at all,' he said easily, and draped an arm along the back of her chair, making her pulse trip predictably. 'You're going to need your energy for later...that's all.' And he took a studied sip from his wine gla.s.s.

Sorcha gripped the napkin that was on her lap and twisted it.

He got caught in a conversation with Simon across the table, and Sorcha turned with relief to Val, who was on her other side. He was looking at her with a concerned face.

'What's up, Sorch? Every time I look at you you're either flushed like you have a fever or deathly pale...'

She forced a smile. 'Nothing. Just tired, I guess.'

Val jerked his head in the direction of Romain. 'Well, he's been about as subtle as a dog marking his territory.'

Sorcha's spine straightened. 'I don't know what-'

Val snorted. 'Please. From day one he's marked you as his.' He took her hand under the table and said in a serious voice under his breath, 'Sorch, I mean this in the best possible way, but you are not like the women he goes for. I've seen the casualties of that man dumped by the wayside, and it's not pretty.'

Sorcha felt hysteria not too far from the surface. 'Val-'

'Just...be careful. That's all I'm saying. I don't want to see you get hurt...'

As Val gave her hand a quick squeeze and turned away, Sorcha had to swallow painfully. Too late for that. If Romain had his way she'd become his mistress tonight, and be well on the way to becoming his next casualty.

With an abrupt movement she stood up. Romain seized her wrist in a lightning-fast grip. n.o.body else seemed to have noticed, but she glared down at him. 'What do you think you're doing, Romain?'

'Where do you think you're going?'

'The toilet-if I may?' She arched a brow.

He glowered up at her, but finally released her and watched her every step of the way as she left.

When she came back he looked at her suspiciously. The reality was so far from what he obviously imagined it was laughable, and she wondered just what she was really doing protecting Lucy. Was the thought of Romain being antagonistic somehow easier to deal with than Romain charming her to seduce her? An uncomfortable p.r.i.c.kling a.s.sailed her, and she knew she didn't want to look at that.

A splitting headache made her temples throb, and she knew it was from the tension and stress.

Romain looked at her as she pinched the bridge of her nose. He felt irritation rise. Big, wary blue eyes snagged his then, and his breath caught for a second in his throat. G.o.d, but she was beautiful.

Sorcha met his grey fathomless gaze head-on. She had to at least try. 'I'm going to go back to the hotel. I'm tired and I have a headache.'

Romain used every bit of will-power to control the carnal urge to just carry her off then and there. He would not let her reduce him to such base behaviour. He shook his head. 'You're not going anywhere until I say so, and I am not ready to leave.'

Sorcha leant in towards him, agitated. His gaze dropped to the shadowy line of her cleavage under the V of the top. His body hardened in antic.i.p.ation.

'I'm not a prisoner, you know.'

He looked at her intently. 'No...there's another word for what you are...'

Sorcha sagged back and fell silent.

An hour later Sorcha looked around her in dismay. Somehow someone had persuaded everyone to go to a small bar not far from where they were staying, and even though she dreaded going back to the hotel, and hadn't really contemplated what would happen when she did, she wished she was anywhere but there. With everyone getting drunk around her-apart from Romain, of course, who was in complete control, and disconcertingly as at home here as he had been in five-star surroundings-Sorcha felt absurdly sober.

He was talking to Simon at the bar. The laughing and shouting was grating on her nerves. And a jukebox had started up playing Bollywood songs. Normally she loved them, but right now they sliced through her head. Dominic and Lucy were messing with the playlist, and Sorcha had just about had enough.

She got up and went to leave, not caring any more what Romain might say. Sure enough, just as she was about to walk out, she felt a firm grip on her hand. It set little fires racing up and down her arm.

'Look, Romain, I've had enough. I've got a splitting headache.'

The noise was intense with the music playing. Romain was about to say something, but just as he opened his mouth to speak the song on the jukebox finished. And before he could say a word, into the brief silent interlude between that and the next song Dominic's voice sounded across the small bar, clear as a bell and loudly indiscreet.

So drunk or high that he was unaware of the music stopping, he was shouting into Lucy's ear. '...can't believe the stupid b.i.t.c.h took that c.o.ke off you and gave you a lecture. Who does she think she is? Holier-than-thou cow. Surprised she didn't go running straight to lover boy to dob you in...'

Dominic kept talking, totally oblivious to the fact that everyone had gone completely quiet and was privy to his conversation.

As if in slow motion, Sorcha watched Romain take in the words, the expressions crossing his face. With a strangled cry she pulled her hand free and ran.

CHAPTER TWELVE.

'SORCHA, let me in.'

Sorcha stood in her room, arms around her belly, her breath still harsh. She'd run all the way back to the hotel. When his knock had come on her door, she'd jumped. Maybe if she just- 'Sorcha, I know you're in there. And if you don't open the door I will knock it down.'

She could hear it in his voice. He would. She walked slowly towards the door and inexplicably felt as if s.h.i.+fting sands were beneath her feet. Her mind raced. What did this mean? Did he believe what he'd heard? Her headache pounded with a vengeance.

With a deep, shaky breath, her heart pumping, she slid the bolt back and opened the door. Romain loomed tall and dark and powerful. Sorcha stepped back. She couldn't take her eyes from his, they were staring at her with such intensity.

Romain came in and shut the door behind him, resting his tall frame against it. His face was implacable. He folded his arms across his chest. In dark trousers and a dark s.h.i.+rt he was over-poweringly s.e.xy and dangerous to Sorcha. She backed away, further into the room.

'Why?' was all he said at first.

Sorcha fancied for a moment that she'd missed the first part of his question. When her mouth opened but nothing came out, he stepped away from the door.

He spoke again. 'Why did you do it? Why did you protect her?'

Sorcha's head swam. He believed her?

'I...I...' She shook her head. It was too much to take in.

He started pacing back and forth, and the tension in his form radiated out from his body and enveloped her. She felt the bed behind her and sagged onto it, looking at him helplessly.

He stopped in front of her and she had to look up.

'Sorcha. Please tell me why you would protect Lucy. Why didn't you just tell me that she was the one with the drugs?'

Something desperate in his voice caught on her insides and twisted them. She shook her head again and gave a tiny shrug.

'I'm sorry...' Her voice came out faintly. 'I just...'

He came down on his haunches before her. Sorcha gulped at the light in his eyes. With just one low lamp on in the room, all the lines in his face were thrown into sharp relief.

'It looked so bad. And I thought...I didn't think you would believe me. Not after...not after everything else. I didn't want her to get into trouble. She's just a kid.' Sorcha shrugged again and said huskily, 'I guess I felt I had nothing to lose.'

He looked at her for a long moment and then stood again, hands on hips. 'I can't believe you let me think that...Why would you do it? Why wouldn't you defend yourself?'

Why would you let me believe that about you? The words resounded in Romain's head, compounding the awful clawing guilt he felt. The shock from hearing Dominic's careless words still reverberated through his body. The awful sinking in his belly when he'd confronted the pair as soon as Sorcha had left the bar. He'd known the truth as soon as he'd really focused on them. The scene with her and Dominic earlier flashed into his head, and the other man's behaviour all day...it all took on a new light. He felt sick.

Sorcha stood then too, and paced away from him, agitation marking her jerky movements. She turned and faced him. 'Admit it, Romain, catching me with a gram of c.o.ke in my back pocket is something you've imagined could be a possibility from the start-isn't it?'

He looked uncomfortable for a second, and nodded briefly, tersely.

She threw her arms wide and laughed harshly. 'See? I knew how bad it looked, and I knew what had happened-never mind how it looked to you! And what if I had blamed Lucy yesterday? How would that have appeared on top of everything else? To be blaming someone as young and innocent as her...'

His mouth twisted. Who is anything but...'

Sorcha smiled a little sadly. 'Lucy is just young and silly. Dominic has turned her head, and in this business it's all too easy to follow someone's lead.' Sorcha's voice grew hesitant. 'What are you going to do with them?'

Romain ran a hand through his hair and looked very weary all of a sudden. 'They're in no state to be coherent now. I'm going to fire Dominic...' He shrugged. 'And give Lucy the option of staying on or going. As you say, she is young, and thanks to you she didn't actually take anything. Is that OK with you?'

'That's fair, I think,' Sorcha said quietly, a little stunned that he was giving her any say. 'Dominic was the real problem, not her, and maybe this will teach her a lesson.'

He moved closer to her and Sorcha's breath snagged. The energy in the room became heavy with something.

'When you asked me that day in Dublin if I'd ever believe you'd never touched drugs...'

Sorcha held her breath.

'You haven't, have you?'

There was a huge black hole opening up under Sorcha. Somewhere she'd avoided visiting for a long time. And for the first time she knew she couldn't avoid it. Very slowly, she shook her head, her eyes never leaving his. She saw some strength in them, something to cling onto. Defied telling herself that it was him.

He came closer. 'So what happened in London?'

A bubble seemed to surround them. The outside world didn't exist. Sorcha was looking into grey eyes so intense that she was losing her soul.

'I told you about what happened after my father died...'

Romain nodded, coming closer again, not breaking eye contact. Not letting her be distracted.

And in that moment, all of a mere split second in time, Sorcha made a subconscious decision.

'It wasn't as simple as that.'

'Go on.'

Her hands twisted in front of her. 'After my father died I found my birth certificate in his study at home. I found out that my mother...the person I'd always known as my mother...was in fact not.'

There. It was out. And Romain was still looking at her, moving ever closer. Soon he would be able to reach out and touch her. That made Sorcha speak again, as if to keep him back. s.p.a.ce.

'My real mother was in fact my father's secretary. Irish, not Spanish. She had no other family and she died in childbirth with me. When the hospital called looking for her next of kin, who she had listed as my father, my mother found out what had been going on. She hadn't been able to have any more children after complications with my brother's birth, so she decided to take me in as her own.'

Her face was so pale it looked like alabaster in the dim light. 'The pain of not being able to have more children far outweighed the pain of her husband's infidelity.'

Romain was so close she could breathe in his smell, and she felt dizzy. Even dizzier when he took her hand and led her over to the couch in the corner to sit down. Sorcha only noticed then how shaky she was.

'And that day in London? When the photographers found you unconscious in the street?'

Sorcha felt numb. The words came out, but she wasn't really aware of saying them and knew that she had gone inwards somewhere.

'That day...was the last straw.' She couldn't look at him. Couldn't launch straight into a bald explanation without going back a little first.

'I'd felt so all over the place, and Katie had done her best to try and comfort me, but...' She looked up then, and Romain had to take in a breath when he saw the pain in her eyes, 'Can you imagine what it was like to discover that you hadn't been who you thought you were? I spent my whole life believing that woman was my mother-that I was half-Spanish...' She gave a strangled half-laugh. 'I mean it's ridiculous. If you saw my brother he looks more Spanish than Irish, and me...' She gestured with a shaking hand to herself.

She took a shuddering breath and went on, too far gone to stop now. 'I shut Katie out. Completely. She was my best friend and I ignored her for weeks. She knew those guys were bad news. And so did I, underneath it all, but I was just...so angry, so confused. I can see now that it was a cry for attention. My crush on Christian was all the kick I needed to be led astray. But, despite my brave show of rebellion, I was terrified of them, really. Of that world, the hedonistic way they behaved.'

'What happened...?'

'We were at a party in another model's house.' Her eyes beseeched him. She wanted him to understand. 'I felt so lost in my desperation to feel part of something-anything. I'd managed to convince them I was one of them...but in reality I was hiding drinks, throwing them into plants, pretending to get drunk...If they took drugs I'd act all blase like I wasn't in the mood. As if they bored me. I hadn't slept with Christian, and was feeling more and more uncomfortable with it all...him...and he was getting increasingly pushy.' She took a deep breath. 'At the party, I overheard him tell a friend about how he'd spiked another girl's drink, and then...' she shuddered minutely '...what he'd done to her. I knew right then that I wanted out. It had gone too far. But, as if he knew, he came and handed me a drink. He stood there...wouldn't leave until I'd drunk it. By then, I was really terrified. I could feel the effects straight away. I pretended I had to go to the loo and called Katie...'

Sorcha sighed deeply and felt a calmness move through her whole body, as if telling this was somehow exorcising something within her. Romain was still looking at her intently. She seemed to draw strength from it, from him.

'When Katie came I was unconscious in a bedroom...on my own. Somehow she managed to get me outside. She had to leave me for a minute, while she looked out for the ambulance...The paparazzi knew the house as a hangout for models, and they were lying in wait-especially so soon after that other girl-'

'I remember,' he said grimly.

She looked at him warily. 'That's it...That's the sordid and very sad truth. I was naive, silly-'

Romain put a finger to her mouth. 'No. You were reacting to extreme circ.u.mstances. They merely offered you the comfort you thought you needed. But all along, Sorcha, you stayed true to yourself.'

She looked at him and felt like crying. To distract him and herself from the rising tide of emotion, she got up and went into the bathroom.

Romain watched her go, his whole world imploding from the inside out.

She returned and held out the small bottle of pills. He frowned and took them, looking at her warily.

'Homeopathic tablets for p.r.i.c.kly heat rash. I take them whenever I go to a hot country because I react to the sun. That's the sum total of my drug use-apart from perhaps paracetamol. I've never even smoked a cigarette.'

He handed her back the bottle and stood stiffly. He'd never felt at such a loss. Had never been in this situation.

His accent was p.r.o.nounced. 'Sorcha...'

Suddenly she couldn't bear to see him like this. She was just as much to blame. 'Romain, it's fine-'