The Scorsolini
Marriage Bargain
Lucy Monroe

For Marilyn Shoemaker, a dear friend and valued

reader. Your support and encouragement

means the world! And thank you for helping

me to name the secondary islands Diamante,

Rubino & Zaffiro, of Isole dei Re for this trilogy.

Hugs,

Lucy

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

COMING NEXT MONTH

CHAPTER ONE

“SOME days, being a princess is right up there with long-term incarceration on Alcatraz.” Therese muttered the words as she pulled up the zip on her favorite mint-green sheath dress while preparing for yet another formal dinner in the Palazzo di Scorsolini.

It wasn’t the prospect of one more dinner eaten with King Vincente and the dignitaries who had come to visit him that made her cranky, though. It was frustration with a day spent in her own version of purgatory. She loved the king of Isole dei Re and was closer to him than her own father.

But there were still times she wished she and Claudio had their own home, not just a set of apartments in the royal palace of Lo Paradiso. No matter how beautiful, the suite afforded little privacy when she and Claudio were expected to eat most meals in the formal dining room. The fact that her duties as princess ruled even her personal time could be a major drawback. Especially tonight, when she was jittery with the need to share the news she’d received from her doctor in Miami. She’d gone to the States for this particular examination in order to guarantee absolute discretion.

She almost wished she hadn’t now. Because if the press had gotten hold of the story, at least she would be saved from having to impart the news to Claudio.

It was a craven thought and she was no coward.

But even she, with years of training as a diplomat’s daughter, could not look on the end of her marriage with equanimity. Unlike her parents, she did not see life as a series of political and social moves and countermoves. For her…real life hurt.

Claudio finished putting on his second cuff link and pulled both sleeves straight with precise, familiar movements that made her heart ache at the prospect of losing that familiarity. His lips twisted, giving his gorgeous face a cynical cast. “I will be sure and tell your mother you think so.”

Therese stopped on her way to the table where she had left the jewelry she planned to wear tonight. “Don’t you dare.”

Claudio found her mother’s social climbing tendencies a source of amusement, but Therese was not so sanguine. She, after all, was the ladder her mother expected to climb up on.

“I have no desire to listen to Lecture 101 from Mother on how lucky I am to be a princess, or how privileged my life is.” Not to mention the bit about how amazing it was that Claudio had chosen Therese from amongst all of the eligible women in the world. She really didn’t want to hear that particular treatise, right now.

“Perhaps she will be able to understand your apparent disenchantment with your lot in life better than I can.” The edge in Claudio’s voice said he was only partially kidding and his dark gaze was serious and probing.

“I’m not disenchanted with my lot.” Merely devastated by it, but now was not the time to tell him so.

And she couldn’t help feeling her charmed life had been cursed…probably from the beginning, but she’d been too blind to see it. She’d bought into the fairy tale only to discover that love on one side brought pain, not pleasure. The happily-ever-after was only for princesses in storybook land…or those who were loved for themselves, like the two women married to the other Scorsolini princes.

“Then what is this comparing being my wife to that of a convict incarcerated in prison?” Claudio towered over her with his six-foot-four-inch frame, his scent surrounding her and reminding her just how much she would miss the physical reality of his presence when it was gone.

He was every woman’s dream, the kind of prince that fairy tales really were made of. She had woven enough fantasies around him to know. He had black hair, rich brown eyes and the dark skin tone of his Sicilian forefathers, but the height of a professional athlete. His body was muscular, without an ounce of fat anywhere and his face could have been that of an American film star…perhaps of a different era, though. No pretty boy looks, but rugged angles and a cleft chin that bespoke a strength of character that she had come to rely on completely.

She had to swallow twice before speaking. “I did not say being your wife was like that.”

“You said the life of a princess, which you would not be if you were not married to me.”

“True.” She sighed. “But I didn’t mean to offend you.”

He cupped her cheek in a move guaranteed to send her nerve endings rioting. He so rarely touched her when they were not in bed that when he did so, she didn’t know how to handle it.

“I am not offended, merely concerned.” She could hear that concern in his voice and it made her feel guilty.

He had done nothing wrong…except choose the incorrect woman to be his princess. “It has been a rough day, that’s all.”

His second hand joined the first and he tilted her face up so she could not hope to avoid his discerning gaze. “Why?”

She licked her lips, wishing again they were not going downstairs for dinner with his father. She wished even more that the twinges of pain in her pelvis were just the regular preperiod cramps she had believed them to be when she first went off the pill so they could try for a baby. “I spent the whole morning with representatives of Isole dei Re’s foremost women’s organization discussing the need for day care services and preschools on the islands.”

He frowned as if he couldn’t understand what bothered her about that. She’d had many such meetings and they had all gone rather well. However, all he said was, “I thought Tomasso’s wife was spearheading that.”

“The helicopter flight between the islands exacerbates Maggie’s morning sickness, but she didn’t want to put the meeting off. I convinced her to let me take her place. Looking back, I should have had the delegates flown to Diamante to meet with her instead.”

His hands dropped from her face and she felt an immediate chill from the withdrawal, though she was sure he hadn’t meant it that way. “Why? You and Maggie share views on this subject. You have certainly discussed it enough to cover all the points adequately.”

“Not according to the delegates.” She grimaced. “They felt that a woman without children, moreover one who had never been forced to work for her living, could not comprehend the challenges faced by working mothers. They believe that Maggie is ideal for this endeavor and that I should keep right out of it.”

“They said this to you?” He didn’t sound offended on her behalf, merely curious. He could have no idea how much the other women’s disapproval had hurt.

She felt both exhausted and savaged, especially after the phone call from her doctor in Miami. “Yes.”

“It is a good thing that you grew up learning political diplomacy then.”

“Meaning it might have upset you if I had told them all to take a flying leap?”

Claudio gave a masculine chuckle as if he could not imagine such a thing. “As if you would.”

“Maybe I did.”

But he just shook his head. “I know you. No chance.”

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.” In fact, she knew he didn’t. After all, he’d never once latched on to the fact that she’d married him because she loved him. The marriage of convenience aspect had been a plan hatched in his and her mother’s more mercenary brains.

“Did you?” he asked with a sardonic brow raised.

She wanted to say yes just to prove him wrong, but told the truth instead. “No, but I wanted to.”

“What we want and what we allow ourselves to do are rarely the same thing. And it is a testament to your suitability to your position that you live by this stricture.”

She turned away from him and started putting on her jewelry. “And you wonder why I compared being a princess to being a prisoner?”

“Are you unhappy, Therese?”

“No more than most people,” she admitted. She’d been raised from the time she was a tiny child to hide her true emotion, but she was so tired of pretending.

“You are unhappy?” Claudio demanded in a voice laced with unmistakable shock.

The man so well-known in diplomatic circles for his perspicacity was thick as a brick where she was concerned.

“Two of the delegates were less than subtle in expressing their belief it was past time I gave you an heir,” she said instead of answering.

“And this upset you?” Again the shocked surprise.

“A little.”

“But it should not. Soon you will be able to share happy news on that score.”

She winced as his words sprinkled salt into wounds left open and bleeding by the doctor’s phone call.

“And if I can’t?” she asked, testing waters she was not ready to tread into.

His big, warm hands landed on her shoulders and he turned her to face him with inexorable movements. “You are bothered that you have not yet conceived? You should not be. We have only been trying for a few months. The doctor said that women who have been on the pill for a prolonged time can take longer to get pregnant, but it will happen soon enough. After all, we know everything is in working order.”

Worse than salt on wounds, those words were like the lashing of a cruelly wielded whip. Prior to marrying three years ago, he had required they go through several tests including blood type and the compatibility of his sperm with the mucus on her cervix. He had also requested she have her fertility cycles tested, just to be sure.

Knowing that a big part of why he was marrying her was so that she could provide heirs for the Scorsolini throne, she had agreed without argument. Everything had come back normal. They were compatible for pregnancy and she was as fertile as any other woman her age.

The biggest surprise for her had been his desire to wait to have children for a while. She hadn’t understood it, still wasn’t sure why he had requested they wait, but now she knew that whatever chance they had of making babies together was over.

Unable to stand any level of intimacy in the face of what she knew was to come, even such a simple touch, she turned away from him.

Helpless anger filled Claudio as Therese moved from him, her womanly curves taunting a libido that ached for her night and day. He wanted to grab her back and demand to know why after three years his touch was no longer acceptable, but that would be the act of a primitive man and the crown prince of Isole dei Re was in no way primitive.

Besides, physical rejection from her was not a new thing. It had been happening for months now, but each time she turned away from a physical connection, it still shocked him. After two years of receiving an incredibly passionate response on every occasion when he touched her, he could be forgiven for finding it nearly impossible to reconcile to her sudden change of heart.

Prior to the last few months, he would have sworn that Therese loved him. She’d never said so, but for the first two years of their marriage, she had shown in many subtle and not so subtle ways that she felt more for him than the mercenary satisfaction of a woman for a marriage well contracted. Her love had not been one of his requirements, so he had not dwelt on it too much…until it was gone.

It was not that he needed the emotion from her, but he could not help wondering where it had gone and why she no longer seemed to want him with the latent passion that had drawn him to her in the first place.

Her physical rejections had started a month or so after she went off the pill so they could try for a baby. At first, he had thought that maybe her hormones had been at fault. After all, he’d read about that sort of thing happening, but in the intervening months it had gotten worse, not better.

Then sometimes she would make love with him the way she used to and all his concerns on that score would disappear. Only to reappear when she turned him down again. He was not a man who had suffered much rejection in his life, particularly from a woman he desired physically. For it to come from his own wife was totally unacceptable.

And it had been happening more and more lately.

He’d begun to wonder if deep down, she did not want to get pregnant. “Do you not want my baby? Are you frightened of what will happen?”

She flinched as if he’d slapped her, her face going unnaturally pale. “Yes, I want your baby. More than anything. I don’t know how you could believe anything else.”

She was so fervent he could not doubt her. “Then there is nothing about this situation that should upset you.”

The look she gave him from her green eyes was not encouraging, but he forged on, certain of his own conclusions. “Soon enough you will be able to silence busybodies with the reality of a pregnancy. As for today, you will simply play the scenario differently next time and send the delegates to meet with Maggie.”

She spun to face the mirror and pulled her silky, long brown hair up into a twist on the back of her head with deft fingers, securing it with a clip. “And that makes it all okay, does it?”

“It should,” he said with some exasperation. “I do not understand why you are reacting so strongly to this. You have dealt with far more annoying people than these women.”

Therese shrugged her delicate shoulders and headed toward the door. She was so beautiful, almost ethereal in her appearance despite curves that proclaimed her one hundred percent woman. And at times like this he felt as if she was as untouchable as a spirit. But she was his wife, it was his right to touch her.

He did it, taking her arm as she walked by.

She stopped and looked up at him, her beautiful green gaze filled with a vulnerability he did not understand and liked even less. It implied an unhappiness he did not want her to feel.

“What?” she demanded.

“I do not like to see you like this.”

“I know. You expect everything in your life to go smoothly, every person to fulfill their role without question. Your schedule is regimented to the nth degree and surprises are few and far between.”

“I take great pains to make it so.”

“Even to the point of marrying a woman with all the proper qualifications. You had me investigated, tested and then tested me yourself to be sure of my fit as your principessa and future queen. I am certain you never expected me to be a source of frustration for you.”

She was right, but he didn’t understand the bitter undertone in her voice. She had not seemed to mind his endeavors to make sure of her suitability at the time. “You are everything I wanted in a wife. Naturally in my position, I would make every effort to make certain our future was assured, but you were and are perfect for me, cara.”

She flinched at the endearment, much as she frequently flinched from his touch anymore. As if any allusion to intimacy between the two of them hurt her. But they were intimate. They were husband and wife. There was no relationship more intimate than that.

So why did he feel like they existed in completely different hemispheres at the moment?

He pulled her close, ignoring the subtle stiffening of her body. “We do not have to go down to dinner, you know.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Your father is entertaining dignitaries from Venezuela.”

“They are his fishing buddies.”

“They are official diplomats.”

“He will not care if we send word we are not coming. And there are far more interesting ways for us to spend the evening than listening to fishing stories.”

“Talking?”

“That is not what I had in mind.”

Her face set, she pulled away, her rejection as obvious as it was final. “That would be rude.”

Had Therese found someone else who engaged her affectionate nature? Perhaps she had even taken a lover. Rage poured through him at the thought, but in his arrogance he could think of nothing else that would explain the way she rejected him physically. Add that to the fact that at times she acted like her mind was definitely not in the here and now, and he had a compelling argument for believing she had found someone else.

So compelling he was not sure he could control the fury his reasoning evoked. He hated feeling like that. He had married her in order to avoid this kind of emotional upheaval in his life.

Which was the primary reason he had never voiced his suspicion. He knew Therese better than most men knew their wives. He’s made sure of it and everything he knew of her character said she would never, under any circumstances act so dishonorably as to have an affair. That was one of the reasons he had married her. She was a woman of fierce integrity, but she had also used to be a woman of intense passions.

If the one could change…could the other? Did some unknown man have claim on her secret sensuality that used to delight Claudio so much? He could not believe it of her, but as unlikely as it might seem, he had to know the truth.

He would call the detective agency Tomasso had used to trace and investigate Maggie and order an investigation of Therese’s present activities and past movements for the last year. Hawk, the owner of the international detective agency, was wholly discreet and the very best at what he did.

One way, or another, Claudio was going to get to the bottom of the mystery of his wife’s behavior. If another man was involved, he would find out and deal with the situation accordingly.

The thought brought a surge of primitive anger he had no intention of giving in to.

Therese regretted rejecting Claudio’s invitation throughout dinner. So what if all he wanted was sex? She could have made him listen. The problem was, she didn’t want to. As long as she kept the news to herself, part of her could go on pretending her marriage had a chance. But even if they had talked…even if they’d made love and it had hurt a little, she would have one more memory stored up for a future without him. Instead she was sitting with a smile pasted on her face while conversation she had no interest in flowed around her. Claudio had been right. King Vincente and his fishing buddies from Venezuela were too busy swapping stories to even notice her and Claudio’s presence at the table.

Claudio had gotten a phone call halfway through dinner and disappeared to answer it, leaving her entirely to her own devices. Not that he’d been all that communicative beforehand. He was too much the crown prince to make his displeasure with her obvious to the others at the table, but she had felt it.

Just as she had known he would not come back once he had left to take the phone call. He had often chosen work over her company. Tonight would certainly be no different. So, when it came time to take their coffee in the other room, she excused herself.

She’d been feeling twinges of pain in her pelvic area all day even though her menses were not due for a few days. Every month the pain got worse and it no longer limited itself to the days of her monthly. According to her doctor, that was typical for her condition, but it certainly wasn’t pleasant.

It was getting harder and harder to hide the truth from Claudio as well, but soon…she wouldn’t have to. She would tell him the results of the laparoscopy she’d had performed in secret on a trip to Miami. Then she would tell him what the doctor had said her condition meant for the future and he would tell her that their marriage was over.

The thought was far worse than the pain in her lower abdomen and she forced her mind to deal with the present, not the probable future.

Maybe a long, hot soak coupled with a couple of over the counter pain meds would suffice and she wouldn’t be forced to take one of the pain-killing bombs the doctor had prescribed.

They always left her feeling so loopy and she hated it. There were days she couldn’t even remember what she’d done because she’d spent so much of her time in a fog. The shock was that Claudio had never noticed. If she needed proof that she was nothing more to him than a convenience, that was it.

How could a man, even a man as oblivious to the normal issues of life as Claudio, not notice his wife had the behavior pattern of a drug addict? But he never said anything when she was zoned out on pain meds. To give him credit, she did her best to hide her condition from him…in every way. But there was a big part of her that resented the fact it was so easy.

If he cared at all, it wouldn’t be. She was sure of it.

Her heart heavy, she started a bath. No woman should have to live with the constant knowledge that she loved where there was no reciprocating emotion to be had. It hurt too much.

Once the bath was full, she dimmed the lights in the en suite and poured soothing aromatherapy oil into the steaming water. Then, while the whirlpool jets mixed the water, sending forth a soft fragrance, she took her pain meds. She shed her robe, letting the silk fall to the floor and not caring that she should have hung it up. Refusing to even think about how the responsible Therese would have taken care of it so someone else would not have to, the in-pain-and-tired-of-hiding-it Therese slid into bathtub.

She’d been soaking for thirty minutes when she heard sounds in the bedroom. She’d let her mind float, so it only registered on the periphery of her consciousnesses what those sounds meant.

“If you’ve fallen asleep in there, I’m going to be more than mildly annoyed with you.”

Her eyes slid open and the impact of his presence slammed into her like it always did. No man should be this beautiful. “Not sleeping. No need to be irritated.”

“You certainly looked asleep,” he said accusingly, but his dark eyes were eating her up in a way that said bathtub safety was not the only thing on his mind.

His obvious interest found an answering hunger in her body. The effectiveness of the hot bath and painkillers meant she could act on it if she wanted to and she did. Once she told him the truth and he accepted there was only one practical solution for their future, she would have to live the rest of her life without feeling the things his touch invoked.

“I don’t suppose you would consider being my bathtub buddy?” she asked, giving his magnificent body a once-over. “Purely for safety’s sake, you understand.”

His eyes narrowed. “Is that an invitation?”

“What do you think?”

“I think I don’t understand why you forced me to sit through an hour of fishing stories if you were feeling like this.” He made a sound that was suspiciously like a growl of frustration, while his lower body reacted in a basic and obvious way to her suggestion.

She hid her smile of satisfaction at the evidence that if nothing else, the man wanted her. Then she looked up at him from between her lashes. “Are you saying you’re not interested?” she asked in a tone that said she didn’t believe it. “Your body says otherwise.”

“Maybe my body isn’t the one in control here.”

She arched her back, relief coursing through her when the shift in her pelvis the movement caused didn’t so much as result in a tiny twinge of discomfort. “Maybe it should be.”

“Damn it, Therese, what is going on?”

He never swore in front of her. It shocked her so much that she relaxed back into the water. What if he didn’t want her? A man might not be able to control the physical responses of his body, but he didn’t have to give in to them. Not if his mind was turned off in spite of his body’s cravings.

He was upset with her for turning him down earlier. She should have realized he would be, but normally he acted as if her diminished desire didn’t impact him at all. After all, he was a busy man. He had about as much time for sex as he did for meaningful conversations with her, which meant he had almost no time at all.

Saying nothing because she was afraid she’d beg if she did, she stood to get out of the tub.

“What are you doing?” he asked in a low growl.

“What does it look like? I’m getting out.” He could turn her down, but he didn’t need to rub her nose in it.

He made a sound that sent a shiver down her spine. “Stay where you are, you provoking little witch.”

CHAPTER TWO

“I WASN’T trying to provoke you,” she denied.

He yanked his tie off and started on the buttons of his shirt. “Then I don’t want to see what you are like when you do try.”

It suddenly occurred to her that he wasn’t turning her down, but intended to get into the oversize tub with her. She smiled in pure relief. “Are you sure about that?”

He jerked his pants down, pulling his shorts with them and revealing the impressive length of his angrily throbbing erection. He really wanted her, but from the expression on his face, he wasn’t happy about it.

He stepped into the tub and pulled her to him all in one movement, rubbing his rigid length against her in a blatantly sexual gesture. “I’m not sure about much of anything with you anymore.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, reveling in the feel of his hard muscles and heated skin against her. “I thought you were always sure of me…about everything.”

“I wish.” His mouth slammed down onto hers and there was none of the seductive finesse she’d come to expect from him.

Something had really upset him and he was barely in control. Her ultraurbane husband was showing a basic side to his nature he’d always kept carefully hidden. She doubted he even knew it was there. She had always suspected, though. She saw glimpses sometimes when they were making love, but this was the first time she sensed his control was really at risk. She didn’t mind. In fact, she loved it.

Uncomplicated passion was exactly what she needed right now to get her mind off things she could not stand to think about. She kissed him back, letting the desperation she felt translate into a physical need that more than matched his. A growl rumbled low in his chest and he deepened the kiss with a thrust of his tongue that took total possession of her mouth.

She let her fingers run down the hard contours of his chest, tangling in his black, curling hair and tugging gently.

His mouth broke from hers. “Sì, cara. You know how much I like that. Do it again.”

She did and then bent forward to taste the salt of his skin with the tip of her tongue. If only he could love her and not merely what she could do to him. But thinking along those lines would bring pain, not pleasure and she slammed the door shut on that part of her mind with a ferocious clang.

She nuzzled him, loving his scent and the feel of his warmth against her face. He was so perfect for her physically.

His big hands cupped her bottom and he lifted, rubbing his erection against the juncture of her thighs bringing forth a damp throb of response that she wallowed in. She made a mewling sound, her need so intense she dug her fingers like claws into his hot skin.

She loved him so much and in this—for right now, he was absolutely and totally hers.

She pressed her breasts against his chest and rubbed side to side, the stimulation to her aching peaks along with the way he was bringing their bodies together intimately almost enough to send her over the edge.

Suddenly he dropped into the water with her on top of him, sending hot, scented waves sloshing over the sides of the tub and onto the marble floor. He spread her legs so she straddled him and thrust upward pulling her down with a near-bruising grip on her hips. His aim was perfect and his rigid length speared into her, filling her completely in one powerful thrust.

Her body jerked at the shocking intrusion, but it didn’t even sort of hurt.

It felt so good, so right…so tight. They fit each other so absolutely perfectly in this way…how could her body make her imperfect for him in the one way that mattered most?

His mouth tore from hers. “What is it? What’s the matter?”

She stared at him, her eyes burning with tears she would never let him see. “Nothing. You feel so incredible inside me,” she panted.

“You went stiff.”

“It’s always a little tight at first.”

He smiled, masculine ego glowing from his dark eyes. “Yes, but you like it, no?”

“I love it.” I love you, she whispered deep in her heart. Forever.

“Then let me take you again.”

“Yes.”

And she did, thrilled by the lack of pain and hoping it would last the entire lovemaking session. She was careful not to take him too deep and he let her control things. She’d often teased him this way in the past and it was highly pleasurable for both of them.

Putting his head back and breathing harshly, his face contorted with pleasure, he said, “You are so good at this.”

“And you are incredible.”

He went stiff beneath her, his body filled with a tension that had nothing to do with sensual delight. “Then why do you turn me down so often lately?” he asked, his voice edged with dark emotion.

She didn’t have an answer…at least not one she was prepared to discuss right now when the pleasure was on the verge of letting her forget everything. So, instead of saying something that might mess that up, she kissed him.

He kissed her back, his mouth quickly taking control and then claiming her lips as if intent on punishment. Only she didn’t feel punished. She responded with ferocity of her own and increased the pace of their lovemaking until she felt the pleasure spiral tight inside her and she went through the stratosphere, all rational thought flying from her mind as her body convulsed with the ultimate satisfaction.

He grabbed her hips and thrust upward, once, twice…three times and sent her into a second climax, so close to the first that her lungs seized along with everything else.

He shouted and she felt his warmth inside of her as she took a long shuddering breath into her oxygen-starved lungs before collapsing on top of him.

She kissed his chest. “That was wonderful.”

“Yes,” he said, his breathing still heavy. “It always is.”

“Yes.”

“So, why—”

She put her hand over his mouth. “No talking. Just enjoy. Okay?”

He frowned.

“Please,” she pleaded.

He nodded, one quick jerk of his head.

She smiled and let her head settle against his chest again. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

“You said no talking.”

“So I did.” She kissed him again because she couldn’t help herself and then relaxed there.

His hands moved from her hips to her back and she cuddled in the circle of his arms, their bodies still connected in the most intimate way possible.

Eventually he carried her to the oversize glass shower stall and they made love again under the cascading spray before washing and then going to bed where she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

She woke up alone and buried her face in his pillow, wallowing in Claudio’s lingering scent.

The night before had been incredible. He’d woken her sometime in the early hours of the morning and made love to her with such tender gentleness, she had cried when she climaxed. He’d held her afterward, rubbing her back and whispering how much he enjoyed her body and how beautiful she was in Italian.

But after three years, she realized being beautiful to him was not enough. It was not love and could not last forever because outer beauty did not last forever. And outstanding sexual satisfaction could not make up for her inability to give him the one thing he expected from her.

Heirs for the Scorsolini throne.

It was time to tell him the truth.

But when she went downstairs, it was to discover he’d flown out for a meeting in New York. She’d forgotten all about his trip and didn’t know if she could wait the three days until his return to settle things between them.

She didn’t miss the fact that he’d left without bothering to wake her and kiss her goodbye, either. Somehow, that made everything worse. Maybe because it was a huge indication of the lack of true intimacy in their relationship and any real reliance he had on her.

There wasn’t any. They were married, but she was no more necessary to his life than any of his other many employees. If it wasn’t for the sex, their relationship would not be any more personal than it was with any of the others, either. And when the sex wasn’t on, neither was their relationship. How many business trips had he scheduled during her monthly? Had he ever once asked her to accompany him? No.

She was a convenience to him and she might as well admit it.

But damn it, it hurt.

She needed to be more to him. The only hope for their future was for her to mean something more to him. Which meant there was no hope at all.

Her mobile phone chirped and she scooted up in bed to answer it. When she saw that it was Claudio, her breath caught. She flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Good morning, bella.”

For some reason that endearment hurt this morning. Wasn’t she more than a face and a body to him? Was her value truly determined by her outer looks and her poise as her mother had always insisted it was?

“Good morning, Claudio.” She waited expectantly for him to get to the purpose of his phone call.

“I’m on my way to my hotel and wishing you were with me.”

Her heart stopped. “Are you really?”

“Sì. I do not like when our schedules separate us.”

“Then why didn’t you ask me to come with you?” she asked, hope uncurling like a slow bud inside her heart.

“You have your obligations. I have mine.”

“And do the obligations always come first?”

“They must. It is our duty.”

“They don’t always for Tomasso and Maggie or Marcello and Danette.” But then his brothers were in love with their wives.

One of the things that had hurt the most this past few months was seeing what a Scorsolini prince in love acted like and acknowledging it was nothing like Claudio’s behavior toward her.

“My brothers are not in line to be the next ruler of Isole dei Re. They can afford to put duty second on occasion. The country does not depend so heavily on them. And their wives do not have the same requirements put upon you as my wife.” He spoke like a teacher reciting a lesson to a student that he had recited many times before.

The practiced patience in his voice was worse than if he’d snapped at her.

“I miss you,” she said baldly.

“I have been gone less than a day.”

“Are you saying you don’t miss me?” she asked, wishing the question did not feel like a razor shredding her insides. So much for him wishing she was there.

“I will miss you tonight.”

If he had planned it, he could not have said anything more wounding. “In bed,” she said flatly.

“We are good there.”

“But nowhere else?” she asked, for once making no effort to hide how much that displeased her.

“Do not be ridiculous. You are my wife, not my concubine. Why would you even ask such a question?”

“Perhaps because that is the only place you deign to miss me.”

“I did not say that.”

“Excuse me, but you did.”

“I did not call you to get into an argument.” The frozen tone of his voice came across the phone line loud and clear. “But for the record, if you took what I said to mean such a thing, it did not.”

Maybe he didn’t know he meant it that way, but he had. The facts spoke for themselves.

“Why did you call? We both know it was not merely to say hello. I don’t rate those kinds of phone calls from you.”

“What is the matter with you? Perhaps that is exactly why I called.”

She wasn’t even remotely convinced. “Not likely.”

“I was thinking of you and wanted to hear your voice, all right?” he asked, sounding thoroughly annoyed with her.

Oh. Man. Did he mean it?

Of course he meant it. Claudio never consciously lied, but still she had to ask, “Is that true?”

“I do not make it a habit of lying to you.”

“I know you don’t. It’s one of the things I appreciate most about you.”

Her father had lied to her, to her mother, to anyone at all…all for the sake of convenience and had called it diplomacy. But she didn’t think that that kind of diplomacy belonged in a family. It was best saved for other politicians, all of whom were expecting it.

“Can you say the same thing?”

Shock coursed through her that he would ask such a thing. “Of course I can. You know I don’t lie to you.”

“Only perhaps you do not feel withholding information from me is the same as lying?” he asked.

Could he know about her condition? Impossible…she’d been far too careful to keep it a secret. “I don’t know what you mean.” That at least was no lie, but it was also not the full truth. Perhaps there was more of her father in her than she wanted to admit.

“Are you sure about that?”

“No one tells everything, but that doesn’t mean I lie to you,” she said, defending a position he did not know why she’d taken. But there was no way she could tell him the news of her infertility over the phone.

“I hope that is true, Therese.” He sighed. “I have another call coming in. I have to go.”

“All right. Goodbye, Claudio.”

“Goodbye, bella.”

She hung up the phone, but as she got ready for the day and then left her apartments to traverse the grand marbled hallways of the palace, she couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said, what she had said and what she hadn’t been able to say. She owed him the truth—both about her condition and what she planned to do because of it.

He would be relieved. He had to be.

But a tiny part of her heart hoped against all logic that he wouldn’t be. That he might even refuse to let her do the right thing…the only logical thing to do in the circumstances.

Walk away.

“Your Highness…”

Therese looked up from her musings to find her personal secretary standing in front of her. At one time Ida had worked for her mother, but the year Therese had married, her mom had sacked Ida in order to hire someone else. The other woman was younger and had connections high in the social set Therese’s parents were now moving in. Ida had been only too happy to accept Therese’s offer of a job.

Ida’s loyalty was unwavering, her discretion without equal and her finesse with a schedule second to none. She was the only other person besides Therese’s Miami doctor and his assistant who knew about the laparoscopy and the results.

“Your morning appointment is waiting.”

“Ida…I have to go to New York.”

The older woman barely blinked. “I believe I can clear your schedule. If you could take care of your current appointment, I will have a maid pack for you while I begin clearing your schedule.”

“Just like that?”

“There are things you and the prince need to talk about,” Ida said kindly. “I’m assuming those things did not get said last night.”

Therese shook her head.

“That gives a trip to New York precedence over anything else in your schedule.”

“I hope Claudio feels that way.”

“Men, even brilliant men, are not always the brightest spark when it comes to relationships.”

“Even brilliant men, hmm?”

“Yes.” Ida sighed, the sound filled with exasperation. “Sometimes I think it’s the really bright ones that are dumbest when it comes to women.”

Therese laughed. She thought maybe Ida was right. Look at how stupid King Vincente was about Flavia.

“Just you remember, young lady…a marriage is not all about having children.”

Therese smiled disappeared. “My marriage is.”

“Don’t you believe it.”

She wished she shared the older woman’s assurance, but she couldn’t.

She landed in New York later that evening, her nerves stretched to screaming point. She’d spent the entire flight going over in her head what she was going to say to Claudio, but she couldn’t get past the first sally because every time she thought about him agreeing that their marriage should be dissolved, her throat clogged with tears.

She had asked security not to alert her husband to her intention to join him. For some reason, she felt the element of surprise might be on her side. She was informed he was at the hotel preparing for a dinner meeting when her plane landed. It seemed fortuitous and she hoped it boded well for the meeting to come.

Her eyes barely registered the opulence of the oversize suite when security let her inside. She was too busy trying to control her tortured emotions.

Claudio was tying his tie when she walked into the bedroom.

“Hello, caro.”

His big body jerked, blatant testament to how shocked he was by her presence. Then his head snapped up, his dark eyes zeroing in on her with physical intensity. “Therese, what are you doing here?”

“You said you’d like it if I was.”

“You are not here because of my phone call this morning.” His expression dared her to contradict him…to lie.

“No, I’m not. We need to talk.”

“Do we?”

“Yes,” she said, trying to ignore the fact that his expression was about as welcoming as an accountant faced with a tax auditor.

“I suppose you have something you have to confess that has weighed on your conscience long enough,” he said in a voice that dripped in ice.

She didn’t know what triggered his hostility, except maybe that she’d changed her schedule. Claudio didn’t like surprises and he had a worse one coming.

“You could put it that way.” She couldn’t even assure him it was nothing bad because it was.

In a marriage like theirs, it was a death knell and nothing less.

Claudio went back to what he was doing with cold precision. “It will have to wait. I have a dinner meeting.”

“Can you cancel it?”

“You mean like you obviously canceled all of your obligations so you could fly up here and have a conversation that surely could have waited the three days it would take me to get home?”

“Yes.” She didn’t care how he made it sound. That was exactly what she wanted.

“That’s not going to happen.”

“Would it really be so terrible?”

“Obviously you do not consider it so, but I do not appreciate my wife letting down her obligations and therefore me.”

“And are our duties the only thing that matter in our life together?”

“Duty must come first. At one time, I believe you understood this.”

“Is that why you married me?”

“You already know it was one of the primary reasons I decided you would suit me well as a wife. Your parents could not have raised you more suitably for the life of a princess if they had been royalty themselves.”

That reminder was as unwelcome as it was painful. For she better than anyone knew how carefully her parents had raised her. Her father with the hopes she would pursue a political career and her mother with the desire to live her life’s ambitions through her daughter. Neither had ever cared what dreams beat in Therese’s heart.

“My appreciation for duty was my main attraction to you…and of course the fact that I was physically compatible with you,” she said, long denied hurt coming out as bitterness.

“Would you have expected me to marry a woman who did not understand or fit the role of princess and future queen?”

“Your brothers weren’t so worried about suitability when they chose their wives,” she reminded him.

“As I said last night, I am not my brothers.”

“No, you are the crown prince, which means duty must come first, last and always with you.”

“You knew this when we married. It is not something I expect to be raised as an issue of contention now.”

“You don’t expect anything to be raised as an issue of contention.”

“How perceptive of you to realize that.” He pulled on his black dinner jacket. “As scintillating as this conversation is, I must go or I will be late.”

“Just like that? I fly all the way from Isole dei Re and you walk out on an important conversation because your damn schedule demands it?” How was she going to tell this cold-faced stranger anything, much less the intimate details of her latest doctor’s visit?

“Do not swear at me,” he said, contriving to sound shocked.

She said a truly foul word. “You mean like that?”

“I do not know what your problem is, but I suggest you get over it. I will be back quite late. If you still feel the need to discuss whatever it is you think is so important, we can talk then.”

“And if I don’t feel like waiting?”

“You have no choice.”

“When have I ever?”

“You made a choice to marry me. No one forced you to speak your vows. If they are chafing now, please remember, you have no one but yourself to blame for your circumstances and I will not tolerate you dismissing your promises or your duty as my wife as easily as you did your duties as a princess this morning.”

“They’re pretty much the same thing, aren’t they?” she asked in a voice filled with angry pain.

“No.” His gaze seared her. “You have personal obligations to me that have nothing to do with your responsibility to the crown.”

He meant sex, she was sure…but he was wrong. That aspect of their marriage was as wrapped up in her role as princess as everything else. Because it was supposed to result in an heir to the throne and it wasn’t going to.

“Maybe I’m feeling unsure about all of my obligations right now.”

Fury filled Claudio’s gaze, but his voice was controlled and even when he spoke. “I suggest you get sure of them by the time I return to the suite tonight.”

“And if I don’t?” she dared to taunt.

“Then it will be a very unpleasant night for us both, but I warn you…my weapons are and will always be superior to yours.”

“You are so damm arrogant, Claudio.” She sighed, her anger draining away. “Anyway, don’t be so sure my weapons can’t best yours because I have an awful feeling they can.”

Her condition and infertility because of it was pretty much nuclear bomb strength when it came to the power necessary to destroy their marriage.

He paled.

“I do not have time for this.”

He left.

CHAPTER THREE

THERESE heard the outer door to the suite close with a sense of unreality and then sank onto the edge of the bed, her legs feeling like jelly.

He’d never spelled out for her how little she really meant to him before, but his parting shot pretty much summed up their relationship. He didn’t have time for her unless she was playing her role of princess wife to perfection or concubine in his bed.

They’d been married three years and not once had she put her feelings ahead of her duty. The one time she did, he let her know in no uncertain terms that he would not tolerate such behavior from her.

Tears burned a slow path down her cheeks.

She didn’t have a marriage. She had a business partnership where she was the junior partner all the way. And the primary partner had no interest in or desire to renegotiate terms. She would fulfill her duties, or else. Only the or else in this instance was both permanent and painful. And the thing that hurt the most was that she didn’t think it was going to bother him at all.

He would just move on to another businesslike marriage after shattering her heart and not even knowing he’d done it.

“Your Highness, would you like me to order you some dinner?” one of the security men asked from the open doorway.

She averted her face so he could not see the tears, then took a breath to steady her voice. “No, thank you.”

“If you are not hungry now, I can order later delivery.”

Oh, gosh…she could not handle this. She just wanted to be alone. She forced her convulsing throat to speak. “I do not want any dinner, thank you. And, Roberto, could you…” She had to swallow back a sob.

“Your Highness?”

“Could you please shut the door?”

Her answer was the quiet snick of the door latch catching.

She felt her control slip another notch as the nominal privacy of the shut door registered with her emotions. She’d been holding herself in check for so long; forcing herself to bite back the words of love she’d wanted to utter, to hide her distress at the frequent separations from Claudio brought about by their schedules, and for the past several months pretending that the horrific pain of endometriosis did not exist.

At first, she’d convinced herself it was just the period pain made more intense by going off the pill. But then, one night when Claudio had been gone on yet another business trip, she had fainted from the cramps and when she woke up on the bathroom floor in a pool of blood, she’d known she had to find out what was wrong.

She’d gone to see her doctor in the States, a habit she’d developed early in her marriage to protect her privacy. Trips abroad were easy enough to justify in her schedule that she found it quite easy to hide the purpose of her stopovers in Miami.

Her doctor’s initial prognosis had been utterly disturbing. He’d thought she was probably suffering from endometriosis, but the only way to tell for sure was to perform a laparoscopy. She thought she could handle it and accepted a prescription for painkillers, only to give in the following month and schedule the outpatient surgery.

She’d gotten the results the day before along with a big bucket of ice water to dash her hopes that she would be one of the lucky ones who wasn’t impacted too heavily by the disease. Apparently she’d had it for quite a while, but being on the pill had mitigated its effects. There was major tissue build up on both of her ovaries and even with the surgery to remove it all, her chances of getting pregnant without IVF were less than ten percent. Even with IVF, there were no guarantees.

Those were not the kind of odds Crown Prince Claudio had been counting on when he had her take fertility tests before announcing their engagement. A future king had responsibilities to the throne and one of the most important ones was providing an heir to carry on his lineage. He expected her to be able to do that with one hundred percent success and for all intents and purposes, she was infertile.

After seeing the way the press and the Scorsolini family had reacted to Marcello’s supposed sterility, Therese knew there was no chance her proud husband would willingly suffer similar vilification for her sake. And she wouldn’t expect him to.

If he loved her, it would be different, but then so much would be. Love was not an emotion that could be faked, nor could it be replaced with a sense of duty.

Claudio might offer to remain married, but his heart wouldn’t be in it and she could not live with the knowledge that she was a burden around his neck…a source of humiliation to his royal pride.

A sob snaked up from deep inside her to explode out of her mouth and she had to clamp her hand over her lips to keep the sound from traveling to the other room. Feeling like an old woman, she pushed herself to her feet.

She would take a shower…she could at least have privacy for her tears in there.

Once she’d shut the door, then the door on the shower and turned the water on full blast, she cried herself hoarse. She grieved the loss of her marriage, the loss of her hopes of motherhood and stopped fighting the pain that came from loving a man who did not and never would love her.

She ruthlessly quashed any hope that everything would be okay. Deep in her heart, she knew it would not be. After Claudio’s reaction to her unexpected departure from her schedule, she didn’t even have the tiniest hope that her marriage could or should survive this setback.

And that was destroying her. All along, she had harbored the foolish hope that she was wrong, that somehow they could weather the treatment for her condition and the problems it would bring. She hadn’t admitted it to herself because it would have hurt too much, but now that she was faced with the final end to her marriage, she had no choice but to acknowledge the living flicker of hope as it died a painful death.

Claudio could not have made it more obvious he did not love her if he had tried. His every action pointed to the carefully defined roles she played in his life, none of them connected to his emotional needs. Unless she counted sex and even if he did…she didn’t.

She’d had such hopes when they married. They would make a family and she would know the love she had never known with her parents at least with the children that would come. She had also hoped that eventually Claudio would come to love her. She had wanted it all and now there was nothing but the dead ashes of a fire that had consumed her for almost three years.

She had wanted to be a mother. She’d wanted it so much. Why had he wanted to wait? Why? It wasn’t fair. If she had gotten pregnant right away, the endometriosis might never have even shown up. But “if onlys” were as futile as wishing on the moon, an exercise for small children who still believed the possibilities of life were endless.

She had learned they were far too limited. She’d wanted to give birth to the Scorsolini heir and raise him knowing that love lit his path, not duty, that there was more to life than his position. She’d wanted to rectify the mistakes her parents had made with her. She’d wanted a chance at love, knowing that her children would love her, even if their father could never bring himself to do so.

Hadn’t she loved her parents, no matter how much they hurt her? And she would have been a good mother, a truly loving mother. She would never have made her children feel they were nothing more than the sum of what they could do for her.

Falling to her knees, she cried, “God in Heaven, it isn’t fair!” The words echoed around her in the shower stall, no one there to answer…or if He did, she did not hear the Heavenly voice.

She covered her face and sobbed, but eventually her tears had to abate. She’d cried herself dry. She turned off the shower, her throat sore and her eyes almost too puffy to see out of. No way would anyone looking at her now not know how she’d spent the last hour, but it didn’t matter. Claudio wouldn’t be back for ages and when he did arrive, she planned to be asleep. She was beyond tired, her emotional reserves used up completely.

She hadn’t realized how exhausting her pretense of contentment had become until she gave herself permission to let it go. With aching limbs, she pulled on a nightdress and climbed into the bed, not caring that it was just going on seven o’clock.

Without thought, her hand automatically searched out his side of the bed, but of course it was empty. As it had been on so many nights of their marriage and would be every night once she left New York. A dry sob caught in her throat and she bit it back, but she’d soaked her pillow with silent tears before she managed to slip into a fitful sleep. Her last thought that tears were never ending…

She woke sometime later to the sound of the shower going in the bathroom and light spilling from the cracked door into the bedroom. The digital clock beside the bed read nine o’clock. She blinked, trying to think what that meant. It was earlier than she had expected him, but not so early that she could trick herself into thinking he’d rearranged his time for her.

The shower cut off and a minute later, Claudio strolled into the room, completely naked and drying his hair with a white towel. He leaned over to flick his bedside lamp on the lowest setting, casting his bronzed body in a golden glow.

Her mouth went dry as desire and emotional need spiraled low in her belly. It had no place in the devastation inside her and yet it continued to bloom as if her heart had not been decimated in her chest.

He tossed the towel to the side and looked over at her. He paused when her eyes caught his dark gaze. “You are awake.”

“You’re back.”

“Obviously.”

She winced at his sarcasm. “How did your meeting go?”

She didn’t really care, but nothing else came to mind and total silence simply did not work right then. Nevertheless, she had no doubts that the meeting had gone exactly as he had wanted it to. He was that kind of man. It took a will of iron with the intelligence of Socrates and Einstein combined to defeat Claudio’s plans.

Or a woman’s rebellious reproductive system, a voice in her head mocked. He couldn’t battle that, no matter how smart and stubborn he was, could he? And in all likelihood, he wouldn’t want to. It would require her having treatments that may or may not be successful for pregnancy that the press was bound to get wind of.

She couldn’t bear the thought of what that would mean and knew he wouldn’t tolerate such an intrusion into his life.

“It went much as I expected it to.”

“I’m not surprised.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Only that you are very good at getting your own way.”

“I am not selfish.”

“I didn’t say you were.”

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing.”

“Roberto said you did not eat dinner.”

“I ate on the plane.”

Claudio frowned. “A cup of coffee and two cookies is not dinner.”

“It was all I wanted.”

“Skipping meals is not healthy.”

“One missed dinner is not going to kill me.”

“Are you sick?” He asked it so baldly, without the slightest trace of compassionate concern that she winced again. “If you are, you should not be traveling.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to give you the flu, or something. I’m not sick.” Not with anything he could catch anyway.

He did not look appreciably cheered by that assurance. “I expected you to be awake when I got back, but you were not.”

“I had no way of knowing when that would be.”

“It is barely nine o’clock.” He said it like he couldn’t imagine going to bed this early. And probably, he couldn’t. The man needed less sleep than anyone she knew.

If he knew she’d gone to bed as early as seven, he’d be convinced she was ill. She saw no reason to enlighten him. “I was tired.”

“But you are not sick?”

“No.”

“You are certain?”

“Yes.”

“Are you pregnant?” He asked the question with the same lack of emotion he’d asked if she was sick to begin with.

The words skewered her. And there was no sense of anticipation in his features, no warming at the prospect, which hurt just like everything else did right then.

“No. Not pregnant,” she forced out of stiff lips.

“You are sure?”

She hadn’t started, but she was sure. “I’m positive.”

“Then this strange behavior is the result of period hormones?”

No doubt a good portion of what she was feeling and her willingness to act on those feelings was caused by hormonal imbalances. “If it pleases you to think so, then yes.”

Hormone driven, or not, the knowledge her marriage was over was real. His lack of love for her was fact. Her unpredictable reproductive system was not the stuff fantasies were made of and the pain inside her was a physical ache that made it hard to breathe.

He made an impatient movement. “Nothing about this situation pleases me.”

“I am sorry.”

“I do not want an apology. I want an explanation. You said you had things you wanted to talk about but I come back to the suite only to find you sleeping.”

“Is that a crime?”

“No, but you are making no sense to me right now.”

“Heaven forbid I should stop fitting in the slot you’ve assigned me to in your life.”

“I have done nothing to deserve your sarcasm.”

“Except refuse to listen to me.”

“On your timetable. I am here now. Ready to listen.” He spread his hands in an expansive gesture that also served to draw her attention back to his beautiful naked body.

Tears burned the back of her eyes, but maybe they were not as never ending as she had thought because no moisture glazed her vision. She was going to miss him so much and it did not even shame her to admit that part of that missing would be pure physical need going unmet. Because for her, the desire was part and parcel to the love and both would be starved of his presence soon enough.

She sighed, trying to breathe through a very different kind of hurt than what had been consuming her body for months now. “I realized that I was foolish to fly up here to talk to you. Waiting three days won’t change anything. I’m not even sure there is a point in having the discussion I wanted to have at all.”

Really, she just needed to tell him about her condition and then let him work out the details of the separation and divorce. But after her emotional holocaust in the shower, she didn’t have the wherewithal to discuss that with him. Her inner reserves were all gone and she simply couldn’t face telling him of her failure as a woman, as a wife, especially in the face of his obvious hostility.

“Why is that?” he asked in a dangerously soft undertone she was too drained to understand. Shouldn’t he be relieved she didn’t want to get all emotional with him?

“Some things cannot be changed.” No matter how much she wanted them to be.

“And what are those things?”

“I’d rather not talk about it right now,” she admitted in a voice that sounded dodgy to her own ears.

In a move she did not expect, he came around to her side of the bed at supersonic speed and lifted her right out of it. “That is unfortunate because I do.”

She gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck to stop herself from falling. “You can’t always have your way.”

“That is not a concept I recognize.”

“Then it’s time you did.”

He tightened his hold on her. “Stop playing games and tell me what the hell has you acting so far out of character.”

The furious undertone in his voice said his patience was about used up. And the iron-hard glint in his brown eyes said he wasn’t giving up until she spilled, either. No matter what she wanted, no matter how hard it might be for her, he would settle for nothing less than full disclosure.

She knew it and finally accepted it. She’d started this thing and she had to finish it, no matter how much she might want to put it off. No matter how deeply she might regret her impulsive decision to come to New York. Tears choked her throat and she knew she couldn’t begin tell him about her body’s deficiency with even a semblance of emotional detachment. There was only one thing she could say.

And she wasn’t even sure how to say it.

Feeling pressured beyond endurance in her current overly emotional state and overwhelmed by the simple sensation of being held in his arms for what she was sure was the last time, she ended up just blurting it out, “We have to divorce.”

Eyes filling with inimical rage, he dropped her in an act of such utter repudiation her stomach knotted with pain to add on top of all the other hurt she was feeling. If she hadn’t grabbed him for support, she would have fallen flat on her bottom.

But he shook her touch off with disdainful rejection. “You bitch.”

She’d never seen him so angry and it scared her silly. “I…I h-have to tell you—”

“You will divorce me over my dead body,” he interrupted in a deadly voice.

Her mouth opened, but she couldn’t make anything come out. She tried, but no words would issue forth. It all hurt too much. She’d never believed she would have to say those fatal words to him. She would have done anything, given any amount of money…even years from her life not to have had to do so. And yet as horrific as his response was to her demand for divorce, she could not make herself speak the truth that labeled her a total failure as a woman.

He had hurt her too much and there was nothing left inside her of trust for his willingness to spare her emotions.

And the harshness of his reaction confused her…made it harder for her to think, to cope with what needed to be said. She simply had not expected him to respond with such fury. After all, they were in effect discussing the dissolution of what he considered a business contract. Nothing more.

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