by Natalie Fox
She didn’t know why she thought this time was different from the other times they had made love. She imagined that Rupert was more tender and that his kisses were more ardent and he was more gentle with her when he entered her. He was a beautiful lover, always surprising her with a touch, a caress, and this time was no different in that way. She thought he had discovered every secret part of her, but there was always one more delight.
She was crying as she reached her climax, silent tears that he would never see. He didn’t come with her but stilled himself as her muscles spasmed around him, enhancing her pleasure and then moving slowly inside her once again, his breathing now more ragged and drugged with sensation. When he came she clasped him to her, raking her hands in his hair, urging her hips into his, silently saying the words she so longed to speak, that she loved him and always would and would give years of her life to hear him speak the same to her.
Later they went down to dinner, and Verity watched him across the table. She was searching again, for some sign of what made him tick. She wondered if he had made love to Sarah today and bit her lip at the sordidness of such a thought.
‘Where did you go today?’ she asked after Greta had dished up delicious marinated lamb and rice. He looked up from his food and she thought she saw guilt in his eyes; no, she was certain she’d seen guilt.
‘You going out to work every day certainly has its advantages,’ he told her teasingly. ‘If you were home all day you could be one of those possessive wives questioning every move I make.’
‘But I’m not your wife. Was that another of your slips of the tongue or a Freudian slip?’ Dear God, but she was sailing close to the wind.
‘It could have been a disguised proposal,’ he suggested pointedly.
Her stomach tightened. ‘Was it?’ she murmured, hope rising and falling and swishing around inside her till she felt sick and disorientated
‘Do you want it to be?’ he asked, those eyes of his offering no such promise.
Her heart spasmed defensively. What game were they playing here? Russian roulette? Someone was going to get the bullet and it wasn’t going to be her.
‘I’ve told you before, I don’t care a fig for marriage.’ She carried on eating, not wanting to look into those eyes and read relief.
‘I have to go away for a couple of days,’ he said at last, and Verity felt the awful day crowd in on her with more awfulness. First the phone call and then his rushing out, and her despair over Sarah, resulting in that childish display of attention-seeking with her hair and face and nails and then... then his beautiful, poignant lovemaking, making up in advance for this bombshell, no doubt.
‘Where?’ she asked, as if she didn’t really care, except she did and life was getting worse by the minute.
‘New York. I’d take you with me, but I’m only staying overnight and you’d be bored with the meetings I have to attend.’
Don’t even give me the option to refuse, she dismally thought.
She didn’t even get the chance to pack for him— Greta did that. She didn’t even get the chance to drive him to the airport—he had a chauffeur for that. So what was her damned role in his life—to buffet his ego, to warm his bed?
She was desolate when he left the next morning after kissing her goodbye. She tried to make conversation with Greta in the kitchen but Greta was Austrian and, though her English was good, they were continents apart in conversation. But she learned how to make apple strudel, Vienna-style, so at least that was something.
The phone rang at midday and Verity rushed to it before Greta. Concorde was supersonic, but surely not even with a tail-wind behind it...
‘Hello; hello.’ There was silence the other end and Verity’s heart iced, and when the receiver clicked down she instinctively knew that the caller had been Sarah. Then realisation surged through her: well, at least she wasn’t on her way to New York with Rupert. She forced herself to feel happy at that thought but when the next call came five minutes later her heart chilled frighteningly.
‘Look, who is this? Just say what you want...’
There was faint breathing from the other end and Verity’s fist tightened around the receiver.
‘He’s not here,’ she cried. ‘Rupert isn’t here. He’s away...’
The line went dead and Verity was trembling as she put the receiver down. That had been a dumb thing to say. The caller could have been a burglar checking to see if anyone was at home. For once she was glad there were staff around.
Later Greta announced that she was going out for a couple of hours and had left her a cold lunch in the fridge. The two cleaners had already left, and suddenly Verity was alone in the house, alone and very nervous. There were more unproductive calls till Verity was nearly tearing her hair out with anguish by the time Greta returned. She said nothing about the calls, though, after deciding that she was over-reacting, but nevertheless her stomach somersaulted when the next one came.
‘Mr Scott on the phone for you,’ Greta told her later, popping her head round the door. ‘I’ll make you some tea and the strudel, yes?’
Verity thanked her and dived to the phone, her pulses racing with relief.
‘Rupert!’ she wailed.
‘What’s wrong, darling?’
She’d planned on being angry with him; had even rehearsed her words and her accusations, but it all drained from her lips as she heard his voice.
‘Nothing,’ she breathed softly, clutching at her chest. ‘I’m just relieved you got there safely.’
He laughed and then he said words she had so longed to hear.
‘Verity, I’m missing you like crazy. I wish I’d brought you with me.’ His voice was low and very slightly unsteady.
‘I wish too,’ she murmured.
‘Are you happy, darling?’
Verity nodded and bit her lip. ‘Yes, just a bit worried about you arriving.’
Where were the accusations and the demands for the truth? But what truth? Perhaps there wasn’t any, perhaps she was being silly, her nerves so taut and stressed that she was willing to believe anything—that he was still seeing Sarah.
‘I meant long-term happy, Verity. You’ve seemed so preoccupied these last few days. I only want your happiness, you know.’
‘Oh, Rupert,’ she breathed. Suddenly her eyes filled with tears and she wanted to tell him about the phone calls and her fears, but it was painful, too painful, and the words just wouldn’t come.
‘Verity...’ He went silent and she could almost hear his inward struggle, as if he wanted to say so much, but it just wouldn’t come out. She helped him.
‘I’m missing you too, Rupert,’ she breathed huskily. ‘Listen, I’ve...I’ve decided I don’t want to work any more.’ Her statement was as much a surprise to herself as it was to Rupert.
His laughter was soft and relieved. ‘I’m glad to hear that and I look forward to hearing a lot more from you when I get back.’
‘Oh, Rupert, I wish you were here. There’s so much I need to know and so much I want to say.’
‘It won’t be long, darling,’ he soothed. ‘I’ll be back with you tomorrow.’
They were an ocean apart, but somehow that gulf between them was narrowing. Verity didn’t know why. After those phone calls she should be desperate, but hearing his voice like this, soft and warm and tender, as if that flight across the Atlantic had made him realise what he had, filled her with hope.
‘Hurry back,’ she urged. ‘The house is bleak without you.’
‘You have the staff for company,’ he laughed.
She made a snorting sound and he laughed again, and then his voice turned mysterious. ‘After you’ve put the phone down, go to my desk, and in the top drawer you’ll find something I bought for you a couple of days ago. I wasn’t going to give it to you till I got back, but you sound as if you need a bit of an upper.’
‘A present?’ she breathed.
‘More like a promise,’ he told her quietly, and then added, ‘I have to go, Verity
; I’ll call you later.’
‘I’ll wait up,’ she said quickly.
‘I’d rather you took the call in bed and then I can imagine... well, you know.’
‘Yes, I know,’ she grinned.
She hugged herself as she went to the study after putting the phone down. Something had happened in the relationship, something too subtle for analysis at the moment. It was odd, but after hearing his voice so very far away she felt reassured rather than anything. Those calls she’d presumed had come from Sarah could have been wrong numbers or someone messing around, a troubled person who got a thrill from worrying the life out of people.
‘Oh, Rupert,’ she breathed, staring down into the black suede box with its black silk lining. Carefully she lifted out the platinum chain with its solitaire diamond pendant and held it up to the light.
It was beautiful, simple and yet quite exquisite. Shakily Verity pressed it to her lips. Diamonds were forever. He’d said a promise...
‘I’m sorry, Miss Verity...’
Verity swung to the door, shocked at the sudden commotion and Greta’s apologetic outburst. The pendant slid from her fingers and plopped to the floor.
‘So, you’re the new bed warmer,’ came a silky drawl from behind Greta.
Verity knew right away who she was. Tall, elegant, stunningly beautiful with jet hair that moved as she walked. She came straight up to Verity and would have done an inspection circuit if it weren’t for Rupert’s leather chair blocking her way.
‘It’s all right, Greta,’ Verity assured the nervous housekeeper. Verity clenched her fists at her side as Greta gave her an apologetic look and backed out of the room.
‘What do you want?’ Verity bravely asked.
‘Do you know who I am?’ The woman asked with a cynical smile on her lovely face.
‘Yes, you’re Sarah,’ Verity said.
The beautiful Sarah gave a knowing smile. ‘So he talks about me to you, does he?’
‘Not really,’ Verity told her coolly. ‘But when you live with someone you find out about their past.’ She laid emphasis on the past and Sarah was on to it straight away.
‘I’ll never be his past, dear—’
‘Don’t call me dear,’ Verity cut in sharply. ‘The name is Verity.’
There was a long pause as Sarah eyed her up and down again. ‘Well, Verity,’ she drawled at last, ‘you and your presence here surprise me. Rupert doesn’t go for blondes, and frankly I didn’t think he’d enter into another affair so quickly after me.’
Verity held her temper because to let rip at this woman would be playing into her hands.
‘What did you come here for?’ she asked, feigning uninterest.
‘I came to see Rupert, but it’s obvious he isn’t here.’
‘You knew that. I told you when you phoned.’ She watched her reaction to that and in an instant knew by the darkening of her eyes that the calls had come from her, and now she was here because curiosity had spurred her.
Sarah didn’t like being caught out and her eyes narrowed angrily. ‘Well, much as it galls me to have to ask, when will he be back?’
‘Tomorrow, but perhaps I can help you in the meantime.’ Verity’s fingernails were almost imbedded in her palms. She wished she would go because she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to contain herself much longer.
‘You could help yourself by getting out from where you don’t belong.’
Verity forced a confident smile, though she didn’t feel it. ‘What I do is nothing to do with you, and what Rupert does is no longer a concern of yours, Sarah.’
‘You have half a point. You are none of my business because you won’t be around for long, but Rupert will always be of concern to me, as I am to him. I’m a part of his life and no one can change that.’
‘I think he already has. He’s told me you’re nothing—’
‘Then he’s a liar!’ Sarah suddenly stormed. ‘And you’re a fool to think you can take my place. Rupert and I have ties that can never be broken. Oh, he’s tried, but I’m not having any of that—’
‘What do you want, more money?’ Verity’s eyes blazed now. She wasn’t going to take all this garbage from this woman.
‘Money!’ Sarah laughed spitefully. ‘No money in the world will compensate for what that bastard’s done to me and our child...’
Verity’s stomach tipped and she gripped the edge of the desk to steady herself.
‘Child?’ she croaked.
Sarah suddenly looked so triumphant that she seemed to swell with it.
‘I can see that’s shocked you. A small part of his life he failed to tell you about?’ she simpered cruelly.
Verity just stared blindly at her. ‘He... he didn’t say,’ she whispered.
‘We have a baby daughter, a daughter he doesn’t want to know about, never did want to know about. He told me to get out when I was five months pregnant, when it was too late for an abortion. He didn’t want to know about fatherhood or even being a husband; all he lives for is his damned business empire...’
Verity swayed and righted herself and closed herself off from the outside world. She was only vaguely aware of the rest of what Sarah was screaming at her. She remembered her own cold indifference as she asked Sarah to leave, and she remembered thinking as Sarah stormed out of the house that she felt desperately sorry for the poor woman; the rest was a red mist of anguish. Sarah loved Rupert and was desperate to get him back. She had a child to cope with, Rupert’s child, and he hadn’t wanted to know, and that mist thickened and engulfed her.
Slowly Verity went upstairs to the bedroom she shared with Rupert and shakily pulled her clothes from the wardrobe.
Funny, but she was glad Sarah had come, because now she knew that Rupert would never marry her or love her or care two hoots for the child she was carrying. And deep down hadn’t she known this all along? Some sixth sense must have warned her to keep her flat on, and her job. Thank God. For once in her life uncertainty had paid off.
CHAPTER NINE
‘What’s wrong?’ Alan asked as Verity shakily put down the telephone receiver. ‘Bad news?’
Dazedly Verity looked up at him hovering over her desk. ‘No...no, just something a bit unexpected has cropped up. Personal, I’m afraid, so don’t waste your breath asking me what.’
She pushed her trembling fingers through her hair and stood up. ‘I’m sorry, Alan, I’ve got to ask for this afternoon off as well.’ If he objected she was going to have to give in her notice, because if her worst fears were realised there would be a lot more of these missed working hours.
‘No problem. I didn’t expect you in this morning anyway. I thought you said you wanted a few days of your leave; you only had two.’
‘I was bored.’ Verity told him, crossing to the window and desperately wanting to be alone to get her thoughts together. She’d slept badly, as the flat had taken ages to heat up, and there was only one place to go when she had got up and that was work. She wanted to carry on as before, and calling the doctor for the results of her blood test was part of her normality plan. The doctor wanted to see her today. She had a rare blood group and, though there was no cause for alarm, they wanted to keep a close eye on her throughout her pregnancy... and there would be tests on the unborn baby.
‘Are you sure there’s nothing wrong? You haven’t been right for ages,’ Alan persisted.
Verity moved back to her desk. ‘Just tired.’
‘Can you untire yourself for tonight? Stuart and Angie are having a dinner party. Stuart’s phoned you at home every night, but you’re never there.’ He grinned knowingly as he added, ‘Perhaps that’s why you’re looking so washed out. Who’s the new man in your life, or is it men?’
‘Shut up, Alan,’ Verity ordered scathingly. ‘You can ring Stuart for me and tell him what to do with his dinner parties.’ She suddenly smiled over-sweetly. ‘No, don’t bother; why should you have all the fun? I’ll tell him myself.’
‘You’re not still holding a gr
udge over that Scott business, are you?’ he laughed.
Verity paralysed him with a fast-freeze look. ‘How is my cousin, by the way?’ she asked, lifting a file from her desk and flicking it open. She really didn’t want to know, having troubles enough of her own, but he was still her cousin.
‘He’s fine. Business picking up and it looks as if he might get Scott’s advertising after all—’
Verity tensed and lifted her head to look at Alan. ‘What the hell do you mean?’ she blurted sharply.
Alan frowned at her sudden outburst but didn’t remark on it. ‘Scott’s put a new man in as his advertising director, and Stuart’s approached him and it’s looking good.’
Verity desensitised herself. For a moment she thought Rupert might have given Stuart the advertising because of her, but highly unlikely from a man who was insensitive enough not to want his own child.
She didn’t go back to work after the doctor’s appointment. She was too tired and stunned. She’d never known about her rare blood group, but that wasn’t surprising. She’d never had an accident or a serious illness that warranted a blood test. It wasn’t serious but could be for the baby if the father’s blood wasn’t compatible. Somehow she had fluffed her way out of that question—what was the father’s blood group? She’d said she’d find out, but how? Short of cutting his throat and taking her own sample...
She sighed heavily as she drove home, taking it easy in the rush-hour traffic, as the warning the doctor had issued her with had rather worried her. She was verging on anaemia and had a pile of vitamins to take, and she’d been told to ease up. Some chance of that, she thought ruefully as she parked in the square outside the flat. She was going to be a single parent and would have to support this child.
As she stepped into her hallway the phone started ringing. It was Alan.
