by Maggie Cox
‘She would say that. She’s biased.’
‘Didn’t you hear me?’ His fingers tightened a little round her jaw … tightened and trembled. ‘I said she’s right.’
Twin desires of wanting him to say more, just to hear the smoky inflection in his voice at close quarters—a voice that could both comfort and seduce at the same time—and of longing to know what it would be like to feel his commanding lips on hers again swept through her. But Ailsa knew it wasn’t wise to crave either of those things … not when she’d worked so hard to recover from the hurt and rejection that had come so close to breaking her. She’d lost her baby and then she’d lost Jake.
He might have instigated their divorce in a moment of black despair to finally escape the pit of despondency they had both sunk into, but Ailsa had readily concurred with it. The situation between them had become intolerable. They’d both needed breathing space. But even as she’d heard herself agree to legally ending their marriage she’d been utterly heartbroken at the prospect. She didn’t ever want to need him so much again. She’d told herself over and over that Jake should be free to love again, to father a son with someone else. Why hadn’t he?
Dangerously close to tears, she firmly removed his hand from her cheek and turned away. Then she turned back to collect the box of eggs from the table. ‘Would you like one egg or two with your bacon?’
‘You know what? I think I’ve lost my appetite.’ The bleakness in his eyes moved through her like a knife.
‘I’m not pushing you away, Jake. I just—’ She breathed out a long slow breath, fighting to get her feelings under control. ‘I just don’t want to get hurt again, and neither do I want to hurt you. We’ve got no choice but to be together right now, so let’s not spoil it, hmm? I’m totally open to talking about things, and maybe by the time it comes for you to leave we’ll have resolved some of the issues that have bothered us so we can be more at peace with the choices we’ve made. What do you think?’
‘Have you got a shovel?’
‘What?’ Not comprehending, Ailsa frowned.
Combing his fingers through his hair, Jake moved restlessly over to the window to glance outside. ‘The path badly needs clearing. I’ll go and see to it now … work up an appetite so that I can eat that breakfast you keep promising me.’
The unexpected humour in his tone gave her hope that he might at last be going to meet her halfway, so that they could talk freely about the past without blaming each other. ‘Do you think it’s worth doing right now? If it keeps on snowing it’s going to be a thankless task. You’ll have to go out and clear it all over again later.’
‘If you were to step outside for any reason and take a fall, it’s not something I want to have on my conscience when I leave. Just tell me where the shovel is, will you?’
Biting back God forbid you should have me on your conscience, Jake, and remembering she really did want to stop blaming him, Ailsa shrugged. ‘Okay. Go out through the back door to the garden. You’ll find one in the tool shed there,’ she told him.
‘Good. Can I put in my breakfast order? I think you’d better make it two eggs with my bacon. It could be hungry work,’ he remarked wryly, crossing the stone-flagged floor to go outside.
CHAPTER FOUR
JAKE was honestly glad of the physical exercise as he put his back into clearing the snow laden path. The icy wind that stung his cheeks and made his eyes water—just occasionally—helped divert his mind from dwelling on Ailsa. It had been an almighty shock to the system to meet her neighbour Linus. If ever a man had a hopeful look in his eyes where a woman was concerned then Ailsa’s farmer friend’s look epitomised it. It wasn’t that Jake was shocked that the man wanted Ailsa—what man in his right mind wouldn’t?—it was more the fact that his beautiful ex-wife clearly had no idea that he desired her. That made her vulnerable. Sometimes she was just too naive for her own good.
It was funny that Saskia had never mentioned him to Jake—especially when he often asked her if her mother had any new friends. Clearly their young daughter didn’t consider the farmer enough of a good friend to warrant talking about him to her father. Still … the man had no business casually dropping round, trying to sweeten Ailsa with his gifts—practical or otherwise.
Grim-faced, he stopped shovelling snow for a couple of minutes to stare up at the house. It was a compact, charming little cottage, chocolate-box perfect—especially as viewed now, dressed in its raiment of pristine white snow.
In truth, it was a million miles away from the luxurious houses and apartments his company sold across the globe to the rich and famous. But if they were happy here instead of somewhere more urban and expensive then what could he do? It had been clearly demonstrated to him by Ailsa over the years that she wanted as little interference and help from him as possible, and even though Jake didn’t like it he couldn’t blame her.
When that out-of-control car had hit theirs that stark December day he should have protected what was most precious to him against all the odds—even if it meant surrendering his own life to do so.
From deep within his soul an arrow of despair pierced him—so great that it almost made him double up with grief. Why had she told him that she visited their son’s grave? It wasn’t as if he needed reminding that he hadn’t survived. His wife had been able to display her sorrow openly—to rant and rail at the heavens and shake with grief if she felt like it. In contrast, Jake had had to mourn his loss in silence, as well as appear as if he was handling it ‘like a man’. In terms of being a great businessman, a good provider and a loyal husband to his wife, his father Jacob could definitely be regarded as a success, but when it came to expressing warmth and emotion he had been far too shut down for Jake to get close to. Consequently he had never truly felt he’d been loved by him.
Sometimes he cursed the pattern he had unconsciously adopted from the man who had raised him. To keep his emotions inside … not to show that his heart was breaking when he was hurt and to pretend that everything was okay.
Ailsa and he had lost so much. She believed they should talk. Did she really think they could overcome the tragedies that in the end had defined their once passionate union by merely talking? Jake’s learned proclivity of keeping his feelings to himself was so ingrained that maybe it was too late to try and get past it?
Tasting salt on his tongue, he realised the tears that had been burning the backs of his eyes had tracked down his face. Furiously wiping them away—almost appalled at the emotional display that no one else was witness to anyway—he began shovelling the mound of snow on the path with extra zeal.
‘Would you like some more bacon?’
‘Are you kidding me? If I eat another bite I won’t be fit for anything.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Sure. Why don’t you come and sit down for a minute?’
Jake’s invitation was like being tempted with her favourite Swiss chocolate after Ailsa had vowed to give up the indulgence for good …
A silent war of attrition was already taking place inside her when his compelling glance mercilessly captured hers, and she sensed her defences pathetically crumble. ‘Just for a minute, then.’
Carrying her toast and cup of tea across to the table, she sat down opposite him, her back to the large cream dresser that was laden with a colourful assortment of porcelain collectables. Outside the snowfall was gathering momentum but inside the house it was warm, snug and cosy—much more conducive to a little conversation than tearing around doing housework.
‘I’m honoured.’ His reply was gently mocking.
‘Thanks for clearing the path, but I’m afraid it won’t be long before it needs doing again. Not that I’m saying you should go out and do it,’ she added quickly, her face growing hot.
‘Anything physical is infinitely preferable to doing paperwork or gazing at a computer screen.’
Determinedly shoving aside the taunting images his smoky-voiced remark conjured up in her head, Ailsa smiled awkwardly and took a bi
te of her toast.
‘You still enjoy doing crafts?’ Cupping his hands round the cup of coffee she’d made him, Jake bestowed upon her the charming, slightly crooked smile that she’d always found so appealing, ‘I guess that’s a stupid question, considering you’ve turned it into a business,’ he added.
‘I do enjoy it … very much. It’s only a small enterprise, but it’s growing bit by bit. Some nice compliments from customers have helped. They’re very loyal, and they tell their friends about me. Advertising online has boosted interest too. I was recently asked to do an interview for one of the top homes and interiors magazines.’
‘Well done. That must mean a lot to you.’
‘It does.’ She lightly pursed her lips. ‘When I think of where I came from it’s a bit of a miracle, to be frank. I never thought I’d manage to accomplish anything worthwhile … at least in terms of a career.’
‘Why would you believe that?’
‘The conditions of my childhood, I suppose. Knowing that I was abandoned as a baby didn’t exactly help. I’ve never quite been able to shake off the feeling that I was unwanted … therefore not good enough.’
‘You’ve never told me that before.’
Feeling hot, and ill at ease because she’d unwittingly raised the topic, Ailsa nonetheless forced herself to meet the sudden intensity of Jake’s examining stare. ‘You never really asked about my childhood. I sensed it made you slightly uncomfortable—the fact that I came from a world so at odds with your own, I mean. That’s why I never talked to you about it.’
Linking his hands together, he shook his head as if in surprise and disbelief. ‘I’m sorry … sorry I didn’t discuss such an important aspect of who you are and ended up having you believe I was uncomfortable with it. And I guess most of all I’m upset at the idea you thought you weren’t good enough. I always knew how capable you were, Ailsa … how talented. Instead of just keeping it to myself I should have told you.’
There was a glow inside her at his words. But, even more than for what he’d said, she was just so glad that they were really talking at last … connecting. ‘Anyway, I’m doing my best not to feel not good enough any more. Starting the business has really helped me in that department. It’s also given me a boost to know that I can earn a reasonable income from my endeavours.’
Jake’s scowl denoted that he didn’t appreciate her answer. ‘You’re not short of money, and you don’t have to depend solely on what you can earn for yourself.’
Hurt that he didn’t appear to understand, Ailsa suddenly lost her appetite for even the single slice of toast she had made. ‘I know you left me well provided for, Jake—and don’t think I don’t appreciate it. But it’s important for me to know that I can support myself. I use the money you gave me for anything Saskia needs, but when and where I can I like to rely on my own income. Is it so hard for you to comprehend that I like being independent?’
‘You were married to me once, and the money that was settled on you in the divorce is rightfully yours. Doesn’t what most people would regard as a fortune make you independent enough?’
‘I …’ Feeling suddenly choked, Ailsa couldn’t speak. Jake couldn’t see that it wasn’t the money or the amount that was important. It was what it represented to her … the death of their beloved baby and the end of their marriage. At least the money she earned independently for herself came with no such painful or onerous baggage.
‘Does that farmer friend of yours know that you’re a wealthy woman?’
Her eyes widened. ‘What are you suggesting? You think he only calls round because I’ve got money? Thanks, Jake. You really know how to make a girl feel special!’
Snatching up her plate, she shoved back her chair and strode away. She was leaning against the granite worktop, trying desperately to calm down, when Jake set down his coffee and came to stand in front of her.
‘I didn’t mean to suggest he only likes you because you have money. I just want you to be careful, that’s all. I wouldn’t want you taken advantage of. Sometimes you’re too trusting for your own good.’
‘And if I am why should you care?’
‘Do you have to ask?’
‘Is it because I’m the mother of your child? That’s the only reason I can think of that you would care a jot about me.’
He actually flinched … just as though Ailsa had physically attacked him. Why, just then, did the scar on his face move her more deeply and terribly than it had ever done before? Before she’d realised, she had lifted her hand to gently trace its raised edge with her fingertips.
‘Don’t!’
She ignored the steely command and spread out her palm to cover his entire cheek. The bristles round his jaw made his skin feel like roughened velvet. ‘I’m sorry I hurt you with what I said,’ she told him softly.
Firmly circling her wrist, just as she had feared he would, Jake lifted her hand away.
‘And I’m sorry that you really believe I couldn’t give a damn about you. It’s not true …’
As Ailsa’s heart started to pound with regret and sorrow at the cruel events that had driven them apart, she found herself impelled hard against his seductive iron strength, her senses drowned by his compelling male warmth and deluged by memory, hurt and desire.
It was desire that took precedence. It touched her blood with fire, mercilessly scorching through her veins as he hungrily, without finesse, took possession of her lips. The most disturbing thing of all was that she didn’t try to stop him. Just one taste of him was enough to remind her of what she had missed... what she had pined for when he’d left. Jake was like an opiate she still craved, even though she knew renewing such an addiction was a road that could only lead to further pain.
As his lips and tongue stoked the passion already consuming her his hands moved through her hair and then down her body, where they settled round her hips, hungrily bringing her closer. His belt buckle bit into Ailsa’s belly even as she registered the steel-like evidence of his desire pressing against her. But even as her pelvis softened and the tips of her breasts surged against her bra beneath the sweater she wore shock rippled through her. She realised exactly what she was inviting … the madness and soul-destroying stupidity of such an act. Did she really believe that such reckless behaviour could fix anything? She was delusional if she did.
Breaking off the kiss, she wiped her hand across her still throbbing lips, breathing hard. ‘This isn’t a good idea, Jake.’
‘It feels like a very good idea to me.’ The grin that accompanied his smoky voice made her legs feel dangerously weak.
‘Well, it’s not. Do you really think succumbing to a steamy grope in the kitchen will help us resolve all the problems of the past?’
He looked appalled. Then he looked angry. ‘That sounds disturbingly cold. You might not need some human warmth from time to time, but I do—and I’m not ashamed of it either. And actually I wasn’t thinking that what just happened between us might help us. I simply got lost in the moment. Once upon a time you liked that about me...my spontaneity, I mean. I’m going up to my room to do some work. I would tell you to call me if you need anything, but as I very much doubt you would forget I even mentioned it.’
At the door he briefly turned back, blue eyes mocking. ‘On second thought, perhaps you’d prefer to call on your farmer friend? You certainly don’t seem to mind accepting help or gifts from him!’
Shaken by the hurt that had deluged her at Jake’s sardonic parting shot in the kitchen, Ailsa stood blankly in front of the pine tree in the living room, wondering how on earth she would even summon the energy never mind the enthusiasm to decorate it. Inside she was quietly devastated that Jake believed she didn’t need or desire human warmth like he did. If he had known how much she’d loved the feel of his strong arms around her just now … If he had guessed how much being held by him and kissed by him felt like coming home …
He might think that she was more amenable to receiving Linus’s help than his, but the other man
didn’t have a hope of ever getting a warm response in that way from her because she didn’t desire him. Not the way she desired Jake.
Fighting back her tears at their sorrow-ravaged relationship, she moved across to the wood burner to add another applewood log. After stoking the simmering flame that licked round the previous incumbent, she carefully closed the small glass doors as a flash of electric blue heralded the fire fiercely taking hold again. Christmas was traditionally a time for families, she thought achingly, missing her daughter afresh. What would Saskia think if she could see her mother now, hesitating over decorating the Christmas tree with all the trinkets and baubles they had had such fun making together? Come on, Mum, she’d say, It’s nearly Christmas! Don’t be sad …
Spurred on by the idea of not disappointing her child, Ailsa hesitated no more. Her darling girl would return home to a Christmas tree beyond wonderful, she vowed.
At the back door that led onto the garden she braced herself to face the still swirling snow, pulled on her boots, coat and hat, then determinedly negotiated her way down the thickly frosted path to the purpose-built shed that housed her craftwork. Bringing back the large box of decorations she’d stored there, along with two generous strings of white lights, Ailsa quickly disposed of her outdoor clothing, then returned to the living room with her container of goodies in tow. Along with the delicious heat from the fire, the scent of warm apple immediately suffused her senses as she entered. It definitely made the atmosphere feel Christmassy.
Stowing the box of decorations by the tree, she crossed to the discreetly placed music centre on one of the bookshelves to switch on the CD that was already in there. As an orchestral rendition of ‘Silent Night’ filled the air, accompanied by a cathedral choir, she breathed a satisfied sigh and then returned to the elegant Norwegian Pine to start decorating …
