'Til Death Do Us Part Read Free

situated.” Nestor swept out a hand to indicate the great house and gardens around them. “You not only deceived me, you continue to deceive respectable Society and your clients. The truth is you are in trade, Calista. You cannot deny it.”
    â€œI don’t. Just as you cannot deny that you are married now. You found your heiress. Go home to her. I have no interest whatsoever in becoming your mistress.”
    It had been a mistake to agree to speak privately with Nestor, she thought. Three weeks ago he had sent her a bouquet of flowers and a note asking to meet with her. She had been startled because she had not heard from him in nearly a year. She had immediately instructed Mrs. Sykes to get rid of the flowers. Not for a moment had she considered acknowledging the floral gift.
    The second bouquet had arrived a few days later. Once again she had told the housekeeper to toss the flowers into the rubbish.
    She had not expected Nestor to show up on her doorstep because she had given him no encouragement. He was a wealthy man now. If he wanted a mistress, there were plenty to be had in London.
    When he had arrived, unannounced, a short time ago, Mr. Sykes had mistaken him for a potential client. That was not entirely his fault, Calista reflected. Nestor had a great talent for convincing others to believe what he wanted them to believe.
    He was a breathtakingly handsome man with an elegantly sculpted profile, silver-blond hair, and eyes as warm and blue as a summer sky. When he smiled it was almost impossible to look away. But it wasn’t his polished good looks that made him so dangerous—it was his gift for charm and deception.
    Indeed, Calista thought, he was a magician of sorts, one who specialized in breaking hearts and destroying other people’s dreams.
    The thing about a magician, however, was that once one knew the secret behind the tricks, the fascination with the performance was shattered forever. Seeing Nestor again after a little more than a year apart, she could only give thanks for her narrow escape.
To think she had once considered marrying him
.
    Now she had to find a way to get rid of him. She had a legitimateprospective client due to arrive in a few minutes. She did not want Trent Hastings to overhear the quarrel that was taking place in her study. She had it on good authority that the author was a recluse who might easily be put off by such a scene.
    Evidently perceiving that he could not induce her to take the blame for their parting, Nestor switched to another tactic.
    â€œLeaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, Calista.” He raked his fingers through his hair and began to pace the small study with a languid, catlike stride. “You must understand my situation. I had to marry a fortune for the sake of my family. You must see that I had no choice.”
    At one time she had viewed Nestor’s dramatic gestures and intense moods as evidence of a romantic spirit. She had believed him to be a man of strong passions; a man who sought a true metaphysical and intellectual bond with her. But today it was clear that what she had once mistaken for passion and great depth of feeling was, instead, nothing but shallow melodrama. There was better acting to be found in the theater.
    What had she ever seen in him? she wondered—aside from his smoldering gaze and poetic good looks, of course.
    â€œI do comprehend the situation you were in,” she said. She glanced at the clock and saw that her next appointment was due in less than five minutes. It was past time to get rid of Nestor. “I comprehend precisely why you wanted to marry me. You were under the impression that my grandmother had left a fortune to me and my brother. When you discovered that all we got was her monstrosity of a mansion, you did not walk away from me—you ran.”
    Nestor stopped at the window, clasped his hands behind his back, and bowed his head. “You will admit that this grand