To Be a Husband

by Carole Mortimer

  His brother shrugged. 'I don't expect you to be charming all the time, little brother. Besides, I accept that you're under pressure.'

  'What?' Jonathan's gaze narrowed suspiciously.

  'With my being out of the office most of the time at the moment,' Jarrett explained smoothly. 'I realise that most of the day-to-day running of Hunter's is being left to you and Jordan.'

  'Oh.' Jonathan nodded awkwardly.

  'What did you think I meant, Jonathan?' his brother prompted.

  He willed himself to relax. But he just couldn't, not when he knew Gaye was only upstairs, and she could come back into the room at any moment. . .

  'Jonathan?' Jarrett said again.

  What had the two of them been talking about? Oh, yes, the pressure he was under at work. The biggest pressure he had at the moment was that he couldn't stop his attention wandering towards the door as he waited for Gaye to come back into the room!

  'I've managed before,' he dismissed, deliberately not answering Jarrett's previous question. Only he knew the emotional pressure he was under. And it was self-inflicted, anyway. A little self-control, and he would be fine again. As long as he didn't accidentally bump into Gaye, as he had tonight, too often!

  'I was wondering—' Jarrett broke off whatever he had been about to say as Gaye appeared in the doorway.

  She came in quietly, made barely a sound as she stepped softly into the room. But it was as if an alarm bell had gone off inside Jonathan, every muscle and sinew suddenly tense, every nerve-ending crackling with an awareness of her presence.

  How to stop this awareness—that was his problem. And how to stop thinking about her!

  'Everything okay?' Jarrett smiled at Gaye, a genuinely warm and caring smile.

  Jonathan could have hit him for smiling at Gaye in that way. His brother had a wife, a wife he loved very much; he had no right to— He was overreacting, Jonathan realised. Jarrett was being no more than friendly to Gaye, obviously liked, not desired her.

  It was simply that it was Gaye he had smiled at. . .

  Gaye returned Jarrett's smile. 'Abbie is just settling Conor down,' she explained wistfully.

  'I'll just go and organise some fresh coffee for all of us,' Jarrett announced before leaving the room.

  Jonathan barely heard what his brother said, couldn't take his gaze off Gaye as she stood poised for flight just inside the room. As if she was no happier at being left alone with him than he was with her!

  Jonathan's mouth tightened. 'How are you?' he enquired abruptly.

  'You already asked me that.' She returned his gaze with those cool green eyes. 'I'm well, thank you. You?'

  'The same,' he returned flatly. 'And as we're about to be given coffee—' his mouth twisted derisively at Jarrett's arrogance in assuming they wanted coffee '—we may as well both sit down!'

  She hesitated. It was only for a fraction of a second. But it was enough for Jonathan to realise he hadn't been mistaken a few moments ago in assuming she was no more eager to spend time in his company than he was in hers!

  And that, in complete contradiction of his own decision to avoid her, made him furiously angry!

  Okay, so he hadn't behaved too well the other evening when he had almost made love to her on her own sofa, but other than that, what possible reason could she have for not wanting to see him again?

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  As Gaye sat down in one of the armchairs she could feel anger emanating from Jonathan across the room at her.

  She hadn't known he would be calling in here this evening!

  When Abbie had telephoned her earlier and invited her to dinner, she had come up with all manner of excuses as to why she couldn't come. In the end she had appeased a disappointed Abbie by agreeing to call in for coffee after dinner. But even that had only come after a few carefully worded questions which ascertained that Jonathan would be nowhere near!

  She had been hurt the other evening when he didn't ask to see her again, but as the days had passed—long, tedious days!—she had realised it was because he really didn't want to see her again. She had no idea what she had said or done to offend him, but, much as it hurt her not to see him or be with him, she had no intention of running after him, either.

  However, his anger towards her now at finding her at his brother's home seemed to imply he thought that was exactly what she was doing!

  She drew in a deep breath, unflinchingly meeting that glittering golden gaze. 'I was told you were busy this evening.' Much as she liked Abbie, she would be deeply upset with the other woman if she found out she had deceived her on that point. . .

  'I was.' He sat down. 'But I was on my way home, and on impulse decided to call in.'

  So he hadn't been expected. . .

  On his way home? It was barely ten o'clock when he arrived. A little early to be going home, she would have thought—even if he did have another early appointment in the morning!

  'I see,' she nodded, not seeing at all. But then, she had given up all hope of understanding Jonathan these last two days. . .

  He had been the one to chase after her, always seeming to be there, unwilling to take no for an answer. But perhaps he was one of those men who, when he had made the conquest, simply lost interest; the chase was more interesting than the capture.

  Whatever the reason, Jonathan was no longer in her life. She was slowly coming to terms with that. She knew it was slowly, because a part of her hadn't been able to pass up this opportunity to spend time with some of his family, to see Jarrett Hunter's eyes, so like Jonathan's.

  But shortly after her arrival here she had realised it was like a form of torture to be this close to Jonathan and yet not actually with him at all. The last thing she had expected was that he would walk in partway through the evening!

  He wasn't pleased to see her here; that much was obvious. But she liked Abbie, found Jarrett so much less formidable on closer acquaintance, enjoyed the lovingly affectionate relationship between husband and wife. Besides, she had been asked to come, had in no way sought the invitation!

  'Ben and my mother seem to be getting on very well—' She broke off as his expression hardened; she seemed to have said the wrong thing again.

  Was there a right thing with Jonathan at the moment? She felt as if she was walking on eggshells even trying to make conversation with him!

  'Have you heard from Craven since he sent the flowers?'

  She frowned. 'Not since he sent the roses to Mummy, no,' she answered slowly.

  "That's something, at least,' Jonathan rasped.

  As far as she was concerned, it wasn't anything. Richard wasn't important to her, hadn't been for a long time. It was this man she loved, and he no longer wanted anything to do with her. . .

  She hadn't expected, or wanted, to fall in love with anyone, let alone someone like Jonathan. But love him she did, to the point where she felt totally bewildered by his sudden disappearance from her life. The charming, caring man she had come to know had disappeared, and in his place was someone she didn't recognise.

  Maybe this was the real Jonathan? No! She refused to accept that explanation. But she knew it was the only one she was going to get. . .

  Thankfully, Jarrett came back into the room with the tray of coffee at that moment, closely followed by Abbie.

  An Abbie who gave them both a considering look before her face lit up with its usual warm smile. 'Two visitors in one evening,' she said happily. 'I was beginning to think I had something contagious instead of having just had a baby!' She sat down to pour the coffee.

  'Knowing Jarrett, he's been keeping everyone away,'

  Jonathan said sardonically. 'You know how protective he can be.'

  Abbie turned to give her husband an affectionate smile, the love they shared more than obvious.

  Gaye turned away from such openly expressed love, feeling tearful. She hadn't felt like this since the last time she saw Jonathan! He could make her feel so happy, but he also had the power to make her feel totally mise
rable!

  Was love supposed to be like this? Probably—if that love wasn't returned, she thought heavily.

  'I'll just drink my coffee—' she accepted the full cup '—and then I really must be going. I'm on duty in the morning.' Now that Jonathan was here she wanted to leave as soon as possible. She couldn't even begin to imagine what Abbie and Jarrett thought of his distant behaviour towards her, in view of his previous determination. Unless they were aware of the reason for his coolness? If they were, it made it all the more necessary for her to leave!

  'No need to rush, Gaye,' Jonathan drawled as he watched her gulp down her hot coffee. 'When you're ready to leave I'll drive you home.'

  'No!' she burst out. 'Er—there's no need for that,' she added more calmly. 'It's a pleasant evening; I'll enjoy the walk to the Underground.'

  'I don't like the idea of you walking anywhere alone at night,' Jonathan replied disapprovingly.

  'Gaye's a big girl, Jonathan,' Jarrett put in dryly before Gaye could reply. 'I'm sure she's capable of taking herself home.'

  Jonathan glared at his older brother, and as Gaye watched the silent exchange she had a feeling there was something else going on in this conversation than actually appeared on the surface. She had no idea what it was, but she was grateful for Jarrett's intervention; she had no intention of accepting a lift home from Jonathan when he could barely bring himself to even speak to her!

  'I certainly am,' she agreed lightly, putting her cup down to stand up, wearing black trousers and a fitted black blouse. 'It's been lovely to see you both again,' she told the married couple with genuine warmth, carefully avoiding looking at Jonathan. Because she wasn't pleased to see him again, not when he was barely civil to her! 'And the baby is adorable.'

  Abbie glanced at Jarrett. 'Actually, the baby is one of the reasons we wanted to see you. Only one of the reasons, I hasten to add,' she smiled. 'Jarrett and I would like you to be godmother to Conor. Along with my friend Alison. She has a little boy too. I'm sure the two of you are going to like each other,' she went on with certainty.

  Gaye was stunned. A brief glance at Jonathan showed he was as surprised by the request as she was. And not altogether pleased by it, either. Which wasn't surprising; she very much doubted, after his coolness of the last two days, that he wanted her any more closely associated with his family than was absolutely necessary. Her being godmother to his nephew Conor was altogether too close for Jonathan!

  'I'm sure your friend Alison is lovely, Abbie, but—' 'Please don't refuse,' the other woman put in quickly.

  "Think about it first,' she encouraged.

  'We really would like you to accept, Gaye,' Jarrett agreed.

  Gaye looked at him anxiously. She had found Jarrett a difficult man to get to know initially, but by the time Abbie left the clinic she had ceased to be in awe of him, and this evening she had felt quite relaxed in his company. She had no doubt he was formidable as a businessman, but he obviously adored his wife and children. And she couldn't help but feel flattered that the two of them had obviously discussed it and felt she would make a fitting godmother for Conor. Nevertheless—

  'Is one allowed to ask who you've chosen as godfathers?' Jonathan put in with dry sarcasm.

  Gaye looked at him sharply. Godfathers. . . Of course! Jarrett was the only Hunter brother who was married, Conor the only male Hunter heir; it was logical to assume Jarrett and Abbie would choose Jonathan and Jordan as the baby's godfathers.

  From the scornful expression on Jonathan's face, it was obviously the logical conclusion he had come up with too! And he was most unhappy with the thought of the two of them being godparents to his nephew. . .!

  It hurt. It felt like a knife being thrust into her chest. And then twisted. What had she done to make Jonathan dislike her so much? She couldn't think of a single thing. Except her earlier assumption that, having chased her and effectively caught her, she was no longer of any interest to him.

  And that hurt even more. . .

  'No, one isn't!' Jarrett bitingly answered his younger brother, eyes deeply gold in his unhidden anger. 'One waits until one is damn well asked,' he barked harshly. 'If one is asked at all!' he added coldly.

  As she had thought, Jonathan and Jordan were to be the godfathers!

  Fight the fights that were worth fighting, and give in gracefully over the ones that weren't, her father had told her. She had no wish to be rude to either Abbie or Jarrett, but this one was definitely worth fighting.

  'It really is lovely of you to have asked me,' Gaye brightly told the married couple. 'It really is a wonderful compliment. But I'm sure boys have two godfathers, and only one godmother. And your friend Alison seems to fit the bill admirably, so I—'

  'Gaye, I realise this idea has been rather thrust on you,' Jarrett put in soothingly, smiling at her reassuringly. 'But we would like you to think about it. The number of godparents Conor has is, I believe, completely up to his parents. We happen to have chosen who we would like to be his two godmothers.' He shot a darkly warning glare at Jonathan.

  Gaye looked at the two men, one so arrogantly assured, the younger stubbornly grim. She had no doubt they would have something to say to each other once she had left, and she didn't envy Abbie being an audience to it. . .

  'I promise I will think about it,' she told Jarrett pleasantly before turning to smile at Abbie. 'Thank you for the coffee, and conversation; I've enjoyed myself.' Until Jonathan arrived so unexpectedly. . . 'I'll call you, Abbie, and maybe when you're a little more mobile we can meet for coffee or lunch some time?'

  If possible, she intended making sure that any further contact with this family was made with Abbie alone, that there was no way it could involve Jonathan. Even accidentally. Like this evening.

  'Jonathan,' she said abruptly, inclining her head in parting.

  'Gaye,' he returned just as tersely, barely glancing at her.

  'I'll come with you to the door.' Abbie stood up.

  Gaye wished the other woman wouldn't come out with her; she was barely managing to hold back the tears as it was, and that control could slip at any moment.

  She held on long enough to say goodbye to Abbie at the door, long enough for her to walk down the driveway and out onto the pavement. But then she cracked, like the breaking of an eggshell, leaving her raw with pain, the tears seeming to burn her cheeks as they fell so hotly.

  What had she done to make Jonathan dislike her so much he couldn't even look at her?

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  'Have you been taking lessons at how to be a bastard, or does it just come naturally to you?'

  Jonathan knew he had behaved badly towards Gaye, had seen that look of bewildered pain in her expressive eyes before she left; he certainly didn't need Jarrett to tell him so!

  He returned his brother's censorious gaze. 'Actually, I just imagined I was you,' he returned scathingly.

  Jarrett's mouth twitched derisively. 'Very funny! I hope you realise exactly—'

  'Well, I hope you're satisfied, Jonathan!' Abbie burst back into the room, eyes blazing deeply purple, at that moment showing no ill-effects from her recent operation, so angry she could think of nothing else, not even her own discomfort in the week since Conor had been born.

  God, was it only just over a week ago? Jonathan inwardly groaned. He could barely remember what his life had been like before Gaye's explosion into it; it felt to him as if he had always been this angry and confused, wanting Gaye in his life, to see her, but at the same time shying away from any deeper emotions.

  'He doesn't have the look of a satisfied man to me, Abbie,' Jarrett drawled mockingly before bending to kiss his wife lightly on the lips.

  'He doesn't look ashamed of himself, either—and he damn well ought to!' Abbie still glared furiously at Jonathan. 'Gaye was our guest, Jonathan, in our home, and she was perfectly happy to be here until you arrived and started—'

  'I wouldn't go so far as to say she's happy, darling,' Jarrett interrupted as he sat down, looking up in
amusement as Abbie and Jonathan glared at each other now. 'I think Gaye is just better at hiding her true feelings than Jonathan is. . .'

  Jonathan turned to his brother sharply. 'And what the hell is that supposed to mean?' he growled.

  His brother wasn't fazed. 'Take a good look at yourself some time, Jon. A really good look. I think you will find exactly what I mean.'

  He looked tired; he already knew that. But that was because he seemed to be having trouble sleeping. But other than looking tired he had seen little change in his own reflection.

  'Inside yourself, Jonathan,' Jarrett carried on derisively. "What's happened to the laid-back Mr Charm?' He raised dark brows.

  Jonathan sat down again in one of the armchairs. 'He's out to lunch!' he came back.

  His brother chuckled. 'I think he's out on a long holiday—and it isn't doing him any good!'

  Jonathan sat further back in the chair, resting his head, closing his eyes. 'I know what you're driving at, Jarrett, but you're wrong. I made a mistake,' he said flatly. 'Gaye just isn't my type.'

  'You—'

  'Tell me, Jonathan,' Jarrett smoothly cut across Abbie's indignant explosion. 'What is your type? Because you don't seem to have got on too well with the woman you were with this evening, either!' he added pointedly.

  Because he hadn't been in the mood for Sarah's flamboyance, or her equally fun-loving friends, had wanted— God, he didn't know what he wanted! 'I wasn't in a party mood,' he muttered.

  'What sort of mood are you in?' his brother demanded.

  'It certainly isn't a polite one.' Abbie spoke less angrily now, sitting down on the sofa next to her husband. 'I still can't believe the way you talked to Gaye.' She shook her head dazedly.

  Thinking back, neither could Jonathan! He was losing it, that was the problem. His life had had structure, maybe not a lot of purpose, but it was structured to suit his needs; he worked hard, and he played hard. This past week he hadn't seemed to be able to concentrate on work, and, as he had already admitted, he wasn't in the mood for playing!