The Unexpected Baby Page 10

  She hadn’t dressed for seduction. The lines of a bra and panties showing beneath the clinging satin would have spoiled the svelte impression. Yet seduction was happening here, she thought muzzily. But who was seducing whom?

  It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered now but this, this togetherness. He reached behind her to find the concealed zipper of her dress, turned her over and stripped the fabric from her heated body.

  She endured the slow stroke of his hands as they moulded her from her shoulders down to her thighs for as long as she could bear the deliriously rising excitement inside her, then turned with a sign of frustrated need, arching her body into his.

  He kissed her slowly, her mouth, her eyelids, the hollow of her neck, taking his time, making her take hers, just as he had done so many times before, not rushing things in spite of the urgency of his body’s response.

  A wild coupling to assuage an urgent need had never been his way with her. He was finding the most circuitous route to heaven, making sure the arrival would be as sublime for her as it was for him, just as he had done in the days when he had loved her.

  ‘Sweetheart,’ he murmured throatily as he lifted his head from her breasts, his eyes hazed with desire. ‘This is so unbelievable. What you do to me...’

  Even the words were the same, almost incoherent endearments, words that told her of the depth of his love. Only this wasn’t love.

  A tiny icy shiver froze her veins. It congealed her blood, shocked her into recognition of what was actually happening here.

  She still loved him, couldn’t stop no matter how she tried. Physically and emotionally she would always be his. But he hated her—not enough to wish her harm, he’d said—but implacably, eternally.

  This, this happening, was simply sex. Perhaps, right now, he believed they could use each other and survive the encounter unscathed.

  But she knew differently. Tonight, for all sorts of reasons, she’d pushed him beyond endurance. Lots of men lost sight of their scruples as soon as they dropped their trousers. But not Jed. He would despise himself. And she would despise herself for letting it happen, actively encouraging him.

  They would despise each other and fatally spoil the memories that were left of how they had loved each other once.

  As his fingers found the sweet moistness that told him she was more than ready for him she knew she had to stop this, for both their sakes.

  Wriggling away from him was the hardest thing she’d ever do, but she had to do it. Pushing herself back against the heaped pillows, reaching for her discarded dress, she held the satin against her breasts and lied recklessly, ‘If you want sex, just go ahead. I won’t stop you. But I’m warning you, there’ll be a difference. You see, I don’t love you any more. How can I love a man who thinks I’m a liar? It will be just like scratching an itch.’

  Being cruel to be kind just wasn’t in it, she conceded bleakly as she watched his features display at first blank incredulity, followed by black anger, then cold contempt.

  And then he swung himself to his feet, and she watched him walk away and ached to call him back, retract those hateful, hateful words, and pushed her knuckles against her teeth to stop the anguished cry escaping.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  GETTING out of bed the following morning took a monumental effort of will. After what had happened last night Elena didn’t know how she was going to face Jed; she only knew she had to.

  They couldn’t go on like this. Somehow she had to make him understand that she couldn’t and wouldn’t play her part in the painful charade he had so arbitrarily decided on, and this morning, before they set out for Netherhaye, was the perfect opportunity.

  She dressed in the cotton trousers and top she’d travelled down in, stuffed the award trophy and the satin designer gown any old how into her overnight bag, and forced herself to walk through into the sitting room.

  Jed was bent over the table beneath the window, clipping sheets of paper together. Her eyes flicked to the briefcase propped against the table-leg. He must have fetched it in from the car. Very early this morning, or late last night? Hadn’t he been able to sleep, either?

  She loved him so much, her heart felt as if it would burst with the aching pressure of it. And there could be no relief from the awful pain. Her love for him had to be her sad secret.

  ‘There’s breakfast if you want it,’ he said coolly, pushing the papers into the briefcase and snapping it shut. ‘Help yourself.’

  Striving for a semblance of normality, she walked over to the heated trolley. Beneath the covered dishes Room Service had provided enough to feed a small army. From the untouched state of everything, Jed obviously wasn’t hungry.

  Neither was she.

  He turned to face her then. Dressed in narrow dark grey trousers, crisp white shirt and a sober blue silk tie, he looked remote and totally unreachable. His face could have been carved from stone, his mouth compressed in a hard, tight line.

  She had never seen him look so drained, so utterly world-weary. She upturned the two cups briskly and poured coffee for them both. He needed something.

  But he accepted the china cup and saucer with a slight frown, as if he wasn’t too sure what it was, put it down on the table-top and told her, ‘I’ll go down and settle the bill, then I’ll pick up a cab on the street. The suite’s yours until midday, and be sure you eat something before you drive back to Netherhaye. You’re happy about handling the Jag?’

  And if she said she wasn’t, would that make any difference to the plans he’d obviously made? She wouldn’t put bets on it. She put her own untouched coffee back on the trolley. Ignoring his question, she asked, ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘Head office. I’ll put in a few days’ work and stay at my club.’

  He dropped a set of car keys on the table and glanced at his watch. He was leaving. He couldn’t wait to get away from her. Was he remembering what she’d said last night? Was he disgusted with himself for allowing things to get that far? The gulf between herself and the man she knew she would always love had never seemed so wide.

  She couldn’t let him walk away like this. They had to talk, discuss the situation properly. The problem of their ruined marriage and far from happy future had to be resolved. They couldn’t continue in this painful limbo.

  ‘Do you think that’s wise?’

  He gave her a bored look.

  ‘What will Catherine think when I return from my glitzy night of triumph on my own and tell her you’ve cut our supposed honeymoon short so you can get back to work? She’ll expect to see us together, looking deliriously happy, you know she will. It was your idea to keep her fooled.’

  That did get his attention. She saw his straight brows pull down in a frown and knew he’d registered the implications of what she’d said. She picked up her cup and carried it over to one of the white leather-upholstered armchairs.

  ‘You didn’t find your own bunking off a problem,’ he reminded her tersely.

  ‘That was entirely different. Even you must see that.’ She crossed her long legs at the ankles, took a sip of coffee and tried to keep calm. His bag was already packed, she noticed, ready and waiting by the main door to the suite. ‘She’s a woman. She knew how important it was—shopping for the perfect dress. She couldn’t wait to see every last purchase I’d made. She won’t see your “bunking off’ in quite the same light.’

  ‘Then what do you suggest?’ he snapped through his teeth, and pushed his hands into his trouser pockets, his feet planted apart. He looked about as moveable as a mountain, and she narrowed her eyes at him. Why did she love him so very much? He was arrogant, intransigent, stubborn...!

  ‘Nothing at all.’ Elena held his coldly bitter eyes. ‘I’m not suggesting anything, just demonstrating how impossible this situation is. For both of us. You made a stupid decision and forced it on me. There’s no way we can play happy couples for Catherine’s benefit and still stay sane.’

  He seemed to be weighing up her words. Long seconds passed be
fore he spoke, and then he said slowly, almost silkily, ‘You appeared to be happy enough with my proud, adoring husband act yesterday evening, in front of all those people.’

  Elena closed her eyes briefly as that taunt sank in. She knew he’d been putting on an act, of course she did, so why did his admission that he was neither proud nor adoring hurt this badly?

  Because she was a fool! A fool for hoping in her heart of hearts that he might still feel something for her, just a small echo of his former love.

  ‘And ecstatic, I would imagine,’ he went on coldly, ‘to discover you could still bring me to my knees with wanting you.’

  He gave her a hard look as her face crawled with colour. ‘Don’t fret about it. I deserved the lesson. I should have known better. A few days ago you “let slip”—’ his mouth curled derisively ‘—that you still loved me. At the time I wondered what your twisted mind was plotting. I stopped believing in your love when I learned of your pregnancy. And last night you let me have the truth right between the eyes. You don’t love me, and you never did.’ He shot another impatient look at his watch. ‘I have to go. And before you start accusing me of cowardice, I do have an important meeting in half an hour.’

  At her quick frown he drawled, ‘Check with my secretary if you don’t believe me. I phoned in yesterday afternoon and heard that a gem dealer from Amsterdam is in town. I got her to set up a meeting. A deal with him, provided the terms are right, would be important enough to convince even Catherine that I needed to break into my wonderful honeymoon. I’ll get in touch with Simms and he can pick me up when I’m ready to go back to Netherhaye.’

  He was already at the door, on his way, but he told her in the same breath, ‘As you appear to be—amazingly—worried about living a lie, I’ll give you something to think about. I refuse to lie to Catherine about the true parentage of her coming grandchild. Sam was her whole world, so she’ll be delighted to know she’ll be able to hold his child one day. So who’s going to break the news? And how do we square that within the framework of our blissful marriage? Because that is what it will appear to be on the surface—not for your sake, and God knows not for mine. But for hers, and the child’s.’

  He looked at her with withering scorn. ‘A tough one, isn’t it? I think I’ll leave it all to you. With your devious mind you should be able to come up with something to convince her!’

  She’d had enough—taken too much! She knew her pregnancy had hurt him, and her heart bled for him. But, dammit, he wouldn’t believe her side of the story—just closed his mind to everything but hatred!

  Colour flamed on her face, and he was part-way out of the door when she grated at him, ‘I’ll tell her the truth. It will be a relief to speak to someone who’ll do me the courtesy of really listening and believing me, because you dam well won’t. If you had ever loved me you would!’

  And she fled into her room, locking the door, flinging herself face-down on the bed, taking her rage, frustration and pain out on the pillows. She heard him knocking but shrieked at him to go away, and eventually he must have done, because when she finally pulled herself together the suite was achingly silent.

  Drained of all emotion now, she sluiced her face in the bathroom and tied back her hair. She looked at herself in the mirror and saw defeat.

  He had the truth, but he couldn’t or wouldn’t believe it. Her pregnancy meant he didn’t want to.

  Quickly, before she could sink herself in a mire of misery, she checked her room. Time to go.

  She wasn’t looking forward to the drive. City streets were a nightmare, the roads out of town would probably be crowded, and she’d never driven anything so powerful as that Jaguar.

  And the thought of having to act all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for her mother-in-law’s benefit when she finally made it back to Netherhaye made her feel positively ill.

  Her mouth firmed. She had to get a grip. Stop being such a wimp. It wasn’t like her to get hysterical, throw childish tantrums, lose all her backbone. She thought of Jed, sitting in that meeting, negotiating yet another dazzling deal, putting her out of his mind quite easily because why think about his devious tramp of a wife when he didn’t actually have to?

  It helped. If he could block her out and get on with his life then she could do the same.

  Picking up her bag, she went through to the sitting room to collect the car keys, and Jed, sprawled out in one of the armchairs, drawled, ‘Tantrum over?’

  Elena felt as if she was coming unstitched. Just when she thought she’d got herself together again, he popped up and undid all her work. She swallowed thickly. ‘You’ll be late for your precious meeting.’

  ‘I’ve rescheduled it for this evening—a working dinner.’ He shrugged impressively broad shoulders and hauled himself to his feet. He took her overnight bag and told her, ‘I never knew you could get hysterical if you didn’t get your own way. One of the joys of being newly wed? Learning something different about one’s partner every day?’

  She hated it when he was sarcastic. It made her hurt so badly she couldn’t think of a snappy come-back, and simply stared at him when he said, ‘I’ll take you home, then drive back in for that meeting. Shall we go?’

  ‘There’s no need. I’m—’

  ‘The state you’re in, do you think I’d have a moment’s peace if you were behind the wheel of a potentially lethal weapon?’

  He held the door open for her and all she could do was follow. She’d been perfectly capable of driving—if not exactly looking forward to the city traffic—before he’d popped up where she hadn’t expected him to be and ruined everything.

  She didn’t suppose he’d altered his arrangement out of concern for her well-being. He wouldn’t have a moment’s peace if he thought she was likely to put a dent in his prestigious car!

  As he held the passenger door open for her five minutes later he gave her a narrow-eyed stare. ‘When we’ve cleared the traffic you can tell me more about this story you’ve concocted to convince Catherine that you and I can live happily ever after, despite the little hiccup of your being pregnant with my brother’s child. Fasten your seat belt.’

  He closed the door and paced round the front of the gleaming silver car. She closed her eyes defeatedly.

  Of course he didn’t believe her. Had she really expected he would? There was too much going on inside his head as far as Sam was concerned to let him accept the truth.

  The silence between them was intense, building up to scary proportions as the sleek car edged forward in the inevitable traffic snarl-ups. Jed’s long fingers drummed impotently on the steering wheel, his profile grim. Despite the warmth of the early summer day Elena shivered. She couldn’t wait until they got out of this and hit the open road. Maybe then this twisting tension would ease off just a little, allow her racing heartbeats to settle down.

  But when they did she wished they hadn’t, because he said, ‘Congratulations. When you came up with this fairy tale—nothing between you and Sam but a clinical procedure—I thought it was to placate me. But it wasn’t, was it? It was a way of getting Catherine on your side. Our marriage ends in divorce—which is what you want—you come out of it smelling of roses and I’m the big, bad ogre. Bully for you! Who else but you could have come up with such a story? It’s too incredible not to be believed.’

  ‘Except by you, of course,’ she said through her teeth, staring out of the window at her side, uninterestedly watching the stockbroker belt slip by.

  ‘Of course,’ he concurred, uncharacteristically slowing down a touch to keep within the speed limit. Elena gave a mental shrug. She had expected him to really put his foot down, deliver her back to Netherhaye in record time, not prolong the agony of being cocooned here together, physically close but mentally and emotionally at opposite ends of the galaxy.

  ‘Whether you believe it or not, it’s the truth,’ she told him bitterly.

  Jed gave a derisive snort. ‘Lady, you slay me! Do you actually believe I’m green enough to fall for su
ch an unlikely story? For starters,’ he bit out, when her only answer was a weary shrug, ‘if it had been the truth you’d have told me about it.’

  Stung into speech by the unfairness of that, she retorted, ‘I tried to, remember? Several times. You flatly refused to listen. Then, when you had no option but to listen, you decided I was telling lies. You decided Sam and I had been having an affair and I’d married you knowing I was carrying his child.’

  ‘I mean before we married. You didn’t think to warn me we might be expecting the patter of tiny feet rather sooner than I might have expected.’

  She let her head sag back against the smooth leather upholstery. She felt too wretched to speak. And what was the point in telling him anything? He would only accuse her of lying, whatever she said.

  ‘Well?’ he prompted coolly. ‘I do need to know, if you intend to spin this yarn for Catherine. We need to get our stories straight.’

  Elena’s stomach knotted painfully. How could something that had been so beautiful have come to this? The death of love was a terrible, terrible thing. Couldn’t he see what tying them together with lies created for public consumption would do to them?

  Outside the car the rolling countryside shimmered in the early summer heat; inside the air-conditioning made her shiver—or perhaps it was the icy wash of his voice. ‘If anyone asks I take it you intend to say I was fully aware of the situation all along? The truth—that I was completely in the dark until circumstances forced you to come clean—would point to a certain lack of common decency on your part.’

  ‘Accuse me of anything you like,’ she said thickly, pain tearing through her, ‘but not a lack of decency.’

  She had made her decision not to tell him of what she and Sam had arranged until Jed had done his grieving for his brother. It might have been the wrong decision, but it had been made with the best of intentions.