beautiful models and socialites are to be believed.â
He shrugged. âThere were occasions when it was necessary for me to invite women to social eventsââ he sent her a piercing glance ââsince my wife wasnât around to accompany me. Unfortunately the gutter press thrive on scandal and intrigue, and if none exist they fabricate lies.â
âAre you saying that you didnât have affairs with those women?â
His mocking expression gave nothing away. âIf youâre trying to lead me into admitting adultery as a reason for us to divorceâforget it,â he said coolly. âYouâre the one who walked out of our marriage.â
Frustration surged through Isobel and she wanted to demand a straight answer from him. The idea that he had slept with the women he had been photographed with made her feel sick with jealousy. But as Constantin had pointed out,
she
had been the one to leave, and she had no right to ask him about his personal life. He was a red-blooded male with a high sex drive, and common sense told her that he was unlikely to have remained celibate for the past two years.
The adrenalin that had pumped through her veins when she had psyched herself up to see Constantin drained away, and she suddenly felt weary and strangely deflated. It had been a stupid idea to come here.
She looked down at the divorce petition in her hand and calmly ripped it in half.
âI want a divorce as much as you do, but for the reason that we have lived apart for more than two years. If you continue to state my desertion as a reason, Iâll begin divorce proceedings against you, citing your unreasonable behaviour.â
He jerked his head back as if she had slapped him and his eyes glittered with anger. â
My
behaviour? What about how you behaved? You were hardly a devoted wife, were you,
cara
?â He made the endearment sound like an insult. âIn fact you went out with your friends so often that I almost forgot I had a wife.â
âI saw my friends because, for some reason that I have never understood, you had turned into the ice man. We were two strangers who happened to live in the same house. But I needed more, Constantin. I needed you...â
Isobel broke off as the hard gleam in Constantinâs eyes told her she was wasting her breath. âI refuse to take part in a slanging match,â she muttered. She gave a hollow laugh. âItâs a telling indictment of our marriage that we canât even agree on how weâre going to end it.â
She swung away from him and marched up the stairs, her back ramrod-straight. Reaching the ground-floor level, she hurried towards the front door but was forced to halt as the butler finished speaking on the house phone and moved to stand in front of her.
Whittaker held open the door to the sitting room. âThe Marquis requested that you wait in here while he takes a shower, and he will join you shortly.â
She shook her head. âNo, Iâm leaving.â
Whittakerâs polite smile did not falter. âMr De Severino hopes that you will stay and continue the discussion you began a few minutes ago. Shall I bring you some tea, madam?â
Before she could argue, Isobel found that she had been steered into the sitting room, and there was a faint click as Whittaker departed and shut the door behind him. She didnât understand what Constantin was playing at. It was clear they had nothing to discuss that could not be dealt with by their respective divorce lawyers. Her immediate thought was that she was not going to be a puppet controlled by the master puppeteer as had so often happened during their marriage.
She reached for the door handle just as the door opened and the butler entered carrying a tray with a silver teapot and a cafetière.
âI remembered that you prefer Earl Grey tea, madam,â he said, smiling as he held out a cup and saucer.
Good manners prevented Isobel from