Chapter 9

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Their bubble burst a few nights later after they returned home from a dinner party. Kirsty was appalled at the way Derek had treated her. Firstly, he had noticeably ignored her for most of the evening, pretending to be deep in conversation with the gentleman seated to his right. Then, after everyone had retired to the drawing room for coffee, Derek proceeded to humiliate Kirsty in the worst way imaginable.

Someone asked him what he had received for Christmas. He then described Kirsty's painting and made the entire group laugh with his description. He said it was a "childish attempt to recreate romance" and that he was glad his fiancee had found the time to pursue an amusing hobby. He made it clear to everyone that the painting did not mean much to him and that he found it amusing. So did everyone else except Kirsty. Kirsty knew they would not feel the same way if they actually saw the painting. She did not know why Derek was trying to belittle her, but she was determined to find out. All she could do was stand there and smile complacently, accepting Derek's teasing remarks. He knew he had wounded her deeply from the dead look in her eyes. He made no move to apologize, not even when they were riding home in the limousine.

When they later entered the house, Derek went to the billiard room. Kirsty knew he was trying to avoid her, but she was not going to let him get away with it. She followed him to the billiard room and watched in silent fury as Derek calmly racked the balls into their set formation. Kirsty was nearly bursting with frustration. She could not remember when she had felt so angry.

"Why don't you go to bed?" Derek said nonchalantly without looking at her. "You look tired."

Kirsty knew Derek was trying to prevent her from speaking to him about his behaviour.

"You jerk!" she accused, her voice low and carefully controlled. "How dare you humiliate me in front of your friends and then tell me to go to bed. I'm not a little girl to be ordered around."

"Aren't you?" Derek asked, picking out a cue stick from the rack against the wall. "You've certainly been acting like one."

What? He wasn't making any sense. She was not going to let him get away with it. She ignored his comment and asked him why he had lied about her painting.

Derek did not answer her right away. There was a loud crash as he made the break and proceeded to set up his first shot.

"I was doing you a favour," he said curtly, deftly sinking a ball into one of the side pockets.

"A favour?" Kirsty cried incredulously. "How could you have done me a favour? You destroyed any credibility I might have had as an artist. You knew it would hurt me the most and I hate you for doing it."

She was helplessly letting her emotions get the better of her and she tried not to let them overcome her logic.

Derek sighed, stood up and focused on her with a cold glare.

"If people knew how talented you really were, they would be forever bothering you to paint for them. You would be overrun with commissions."

Angrily, Kirsty demanded, "Wasn't that my decision to make? Who do you think you are, anyway? You can't ruin my chances just because you are jealous of my talent."

Derek gripped his cue stick tightly and made another shot. He missed, showing Kirsty that perhaps she was starting to get to him.

"I'm not jealous," he replied coolly, lining up for a different shot.

"Yes, you are," Kirsty stated emphatically. "If you weren't jealous, you would have let me have my own career. You would have given me the respect I deserve."

"Respect isn't something you deserve. It's something you earn."

"Haven't I earned it by now?" She had hoped he respected her from the beginning, but obviously he had a different interpretation of the word.

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