PROLOGUE
IN THE TWO YEARS since the spectacularly devastating end of his marriage, Raf Santoro had lost count of how many women he’d slept with, and how much Scotch he’d drunk. He knew only that anger fuelled him, a bitter resentment driving him to expunge every last thought of his ex-wife from his mind—and life.
It worked, for a while. But always there was the lingering emptiness inside of him, the sense of pain at the baby he’d believed they’d conceived, and lost, only to discover the entire pregnancy had been a ruse, construed to force his hand into proposing. Strange that a fictitious pregnancy should affect him so completely, but the truth was, he’d believed her. He’d believed he was expecting a baby, that they were going to become parents, and even though his relationship with Marcia had been far from perfect, he’d been overjoyed at the thought of welcoming their child into the world.
Now? He felt the exact opposite. He couldn’t imagine ever letting himself get close enough to a woman to contemplate that kind of future, much less to open his heart to the thought of a baby. Every single one of his siblings might have been paired off and procreating as though it were an Olympic sport, but that hadno bearing on Raf. No. He was perfectly content with his life—a life that revolved around hating almost everyone and everything he came across.
He stepped back, eyes raking over his appearance in the mirror, his custom-tailored suit the perfect fit for his lean, athletic frame, his dark hair brushed back from his brow. At his collar, a hint of ink was visible, creeping up his chest, the curled serpent a reminder to himself of snakes, venom. Poison. Once bitten, twice shy, and Raf never intended to get bitten again.
CHAPTER 1
AT THE END OF a hectic shift in one of London’s most hard-to-get-into bars, all Elodie could think of was getting back to the small flat she was subletting from her cousin, and running a deep, hot bath. Her feet were killing her—a consequence of wearing shoes that were a half size too small, because they’d been the last ones she could get on sale—and a customer had spilled half a glass of red wine on the long sleeve of her white blouse, so she’d been followed by the faint smell of alcohol all evening. Occupational hazard, she supposed, of working in a bar.
As busy as it had been, though, it wasn’t the work that had left her feeling exhausted, so much as the text message she’d seen waiting on her phone during her dinner break.
Ellie, I miss you. Can we talk?
Fuck you, she’d wanted to rage type back to her bastard of an ex-fiancé.Fuckyou for dumping me six weeks before our wedding, two days after the invitations were sent out to every single person we know.
It might have been three months ago, but that didn’t take the sting out of what Aaron had done. At twenty six, she’d thought her life was on track. Sure, she’d been putting off goingto university because her full-time income was being used to support Aaron’s acting ambitions, and sure, they’d been engaged for four years before he’d agreed to set the date, but it had all made sense at the time. Every reason he’d given for waiting to firm up their plans, every conversation that they’d had about the wedding, and their future family, had left her with no doubts that they were on the same page with what they wanted in life.
Each other.
“Hello, earth to Elodie.” She blinked, coming back into the present with a grimace, to find her manager Allegra staring at her. “You were a billion miles away.”
“Did you need something?” She felt the heat staining her cheeks and wished she wasn’t so prone to blushing.
“VIP just walked in and I’m desperate for a smoke. Would you mind? The guy’s a regular—and a huge tipper.”
“Sure, of course. Where?”
Allegra gestured with a nod of her head to the other end of the bar, where a man—who was the very definition of tall, dark and dangerously handsome—was striding towards a stool. He wore a dark grey suit and powder white shirt, and shoes that looked as though they were definitely bespoke. His watch was gold, and Elodie would have put her last pound on it being one of those ridiculously expensive Swiss things, the kind that tennis stars usually promoted.
“Thanks, hon. You’re a lifesaver.” Allegra blew a kiss as she weaved through the crowd, towards the door that led to the kitchens.
While Elodie’s shift was due to end in fifteen minutes, she didn’t mind staying later if the guy really was a great tipper. Lord knew she could use the money. Another function of Aaron’s terrible timing was that Elodie had placed down payments on pretty much everything for their wedding, and in some instances was still having to pay for the entire service they’d never endedup using.Fuck you,she mentally rage-texted again, knowing she’d send something slightly less profane but no less final. She needed to cut the cord with Aaron once and for all.
But even as she thought that, and knew it was the best thing for her, she felt a rush of grief. They’d known each other a long time. Loved each other a long time. The loss of his friendship and companionship, apart from anything else, really hurt. The whole future she’d imagined for them, the life she’d thought they would lead, it had all just…evaporated.
“Hey,” she said as she approached the guy, glad she hadn’t attempted a longer greeting because up close, there was something about him that completely took her breath away. His face was a study in chiselled perfection, from his cheekbones to his jawline, and everything in between. His brows were thick and dark, his eyes a sort of green, rimmed in thick, dark lashes, and his complexion was a deep golden tan, as though he’d spent the summer floating around the Med on a yacht. Which reminded her of the honeymoon she and Aaron were supposed to have taken, to a villa in Italy—yet another expense she hadn’t been able to recoup.
“Hey back at you,” he said, his voice the embodiment of his good looks. Deep, raw and accented, it was enough to make the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She’d been attracted to other men, over the years. There was nothing wrong with seeing a man and thinking he was handsome. In fact, it was ridiculous to pretend you didn’t notice when someone was attractive. The important thing was not acting on it—which she never had. Elodie would never, ever have cheated on Aaron, and as far as she knew, that had gone both ways. It had been her first thought, when he’d broken off their engagement. Maybe she would have felt better, if someone else had been in the frame.
But no. It had simply been that he’d fallen out of love with her. That he hadn’t known how to tell her, even though he’d beenhaving doubts for ‘a while’. Instead, he’d let her carry on like a fool, planning their wedding, talking to their friends about it, running headlong into the life she thought they both wanted.
Acid burned the back of her throat; she swallowed hard.
“What can I get for you?”
“Macallan, neat.”
Of course. Only top shelf for this guy. She turned around and retrieved the bottle from the bar, pouring a single measure then offering a smile.
“What’s your name?”
Elodie lifted a hand to the starched collar of her blouse and ran a finger over it in a gesture of nervousness. He was probably used to having that effect on women.
“Elodie,” she said after a beat, wondering why it seemed as though telling him something as banal as her name felt like crossing an invisible line. “And yours?”
