Vineyards Of Deception

th nothing but bravado. "Lisa ha

ever it takes to get

can help her..." s

start-up capital for her bookshop but he made his contempt of the idea more than obvious to eve

you're an honest businessman, you wouldn't destroy a small business just

I care what people think of me, Isabella? Do you think I care what yo

made a scoffing sound in the back of his throa

ed this marriage, remember? You begged for it... So, if you want a divorce right now, it'll come

as done with being a doormat! She said nothing, choosing to turn and walk away instead. He watched her go, she could feel his gaze burning into her slender back but he did not call her back. She did not

aper and coffee and largely ignore Isabella. That morning was no different. It was as if their early morning argument hadn't happened at all. They usually ate their casual weekend meals in the kitchen

fused to meet her eyes, the way he could make love to her without kissing her on the mouth, the way he could talk past her when he had something to tell her... while eternally optimistic, stupid Isabella, had never been good at hiding her feelings from him. No

he carefully perused the business section. She barely ate and hated him for being so unaffected b

pectedly. "You're getting much too thin." The fact that he had noticed what she

he responded softly and pl

or a few seconds before diverting his gaze back to the mug of coffee on the table in fro

goad him into meeting her eyes again. No such luck, he merely shrugged, neatly folded his newspaper and dropped i

me to love her. She had firmly believed that he would get over his anger at being forced to marry her and that he would go back to being the laughing, affectionate man she had known in the first few months after they had met. But after nearly a year she had been forced to face reality, he truly hated her. He hated h

sa was having a fairly easy time of it, Isabella was concerned that anything that would upset her could be potentially harmful to her or the baby. Also, while Rick's advertising agency was fairly successful, Lisa h

n doing some of the cooking herself. They employed a housecleaning staff, as was practical since they lived in a ten bedroom, five bathroom monster of a house but on Saturdays the staff had the day off and Isabella liked picking up after herself and Sandro instead of lett

dishwasher and quite abruptly abandoned the task halfway through

hair into a ponytail and tugging on a denim jacket to ward off the early autumn chill. She passed by the

the open door and his head jerked up while