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No, she didn’t. She was a virgin. She’d never been in love. She’d never had her heart broken, and no one she’d loved had died. She was innocent, vulnerable. She had no idea about how life could rip a hole in you, leaving behind it a gaping wound that took time to heal. And even when it did heal, there were scars. Libby had no wounds, no scars, not like he did.

‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Look at me. I’m the billionaire CEO of a huge multinational. I own ten different houses in ten different countries, and soon I will be the owner of a global energy firm. Tell me what’s not good about that.’

Libby’s gaze turned searching. ‘And was that what you wanted? Or was that what she wanted for you?’

‘What about you?’ he asked harshly, unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth. ‘Is managing the home what you wanted? Or is it something you told yourself you wanted because you didn’t have anything else?’

Her eyes widened, and she paled, and he knew his ill-considered barb had hit home. And it didn’t feel good. In fact, he hated that he’d hurt her, especially in that way, since Neve had used to do that to him all the time. Making comments about his hopes and dreams, and how they were ‘small’ and ‘trivial’. He’d told her once, at fifteen, that what he really wanted was to be a teacher, and she’d laughed at him.

And now you’re doing the same thing to Liberty.

He opened his mouth to apologise, but she was already turning away and striding back towards the front door, slipping and sliding over the snow as she went.

‘Liberty,’ he called after her. ‘Wait.’

But she didn’t stop, nor did she turn.

CHAPTER NINE

LIBERTY STORMED BACK into the lodge and went straight upstairs to the guest bedroom where she’d been staying, slamming the door for good measure.

You deserved that.

She ignored the thought, shrugging off the stupid huge down jacket he’d wrapped her up in, then going over to the bed and sitting down to take her damp shoes off. Hurt was like a knife inside her, but she clung to fury instead, since that was easier to deal with.

How dare he say that to her? How dare he compare their lives with so much dismissiveness and arrogance? As if his life was somehow more successful because he owned a few companies and was rich, while he made it seem as if hers was a failure, that she was merely managing a bunch of kids in a shitty run-down house on the outskirts of London.

Bastard. She’d choose her life over his any day, because while hers might not seem to be as outwardly successful, it was hugely rewarding. She had people who liked her, who depended on her. She made people’s lives better, but what about him? He was still kneeling at the altar of a woman who sounded more and more like a groomer than the high-powered businesswoman he clearly thought she was.

Kicking off the second shoe, she sat there on the edge of the bed, staring down at the pale wood of the floor.

It’s your own fault. You shouldn’t have pushed him about Neve.

A breath went out of her and her vision blurred with helpless tears.

The idea of building a snowman had been spontaneous, and as she’d roped Kai into it, she remembered doing the same thing once years ago—maybe the second Christmas she’d had at Worthington. He’d been the one to get everyone involved, ushering them all into the big back garden on an unusually snowy day and helping them build the snowman.

Just before, she wondered if he’d remember that as he’d helped her, but he hadn’t. He didn’t even remember getting the carrot for the nose, the way he had all those years ago. It seemed his memories were so firmly buried there was no way he could get them back, even if he’d wanted to.

She’d stood there, watching him press the nose into the snowman’s face, realising that if he didn’t remember doing that, he probably wouldn’t remember at all. Because what Neve had done to him had completely and utterly overwritten the boy he’d once been. She’d turned him into the snowman they’d just built. A pile of snow and ice in the shape of a man, with stones for eyes and no heart.

Neve was the Snow Queen, and Kai the snow prince.

Her fury at Neve had returned full force, and she’d opened her big mouth and stupidly mentioned that what Neve had done to him was wrong before she’d even thought about it. She’d known she’d made a mistake the instant she’d said it, as she’d watched his features turn to ice, but it had been too late to take it back.

He’d denied it. Again, he’d said it had only been an affair, nothing more, but it was clear to her that no matter how he denied it or minimised it, it had been something more. And it had changed him profoundly.

Pushing him had been wrong, but she hadn’t been able to ignore her own feelings of grief and hurt over the friend she’d lost when Neve had taken him away. The friend who’d turned into a snowman.

She blinked the tears in her eyes away furiously.

Allowing him to get under her skin the way he had was a mistake. This whole business with Neve wasn’t her business. He was a grown man, a powerful man, and he didn’t need rescuing. Therapy, definitely, but not her scrabbling around trying to ineffectually pull him up from the cliff he was clinging to.

She was out of her depth here and needed to be careful, because this was never going to be anything more than a winter fantasy, a Christmas fling. He had baggage with Neve and probably needed professional help, while she wasn’t looking for a relationship with anyone, not given her own responsibilities at the home. Which meant she had to take a step back. He wasn’t her responsibility, and it was better to just enjoy being here while she could, instead of spoiling everything by rehashing the past.

She was about to get up when there came a knock on the bedroom door.

‘Come in,’ she said, making her voice as welcoming as possible.