Marriage At a Price

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Marriage At a Price Page 11

by Miranda Lee


  As if to confirm just how much in love she was, she put her hak back in Lois's gold clip after her shower, and sprayed herself liberally with the perfumed deodorant she'd bought the previous day. She also donned not her usual jeans but a pah- of figure-hugging black cut-offs and a soft V-necked black jumper which Lois had given her at the weekend.

  'No more black clothes for me,' Lois had said. 'So you might as well have these too.'

  Courtney had to admit she looked and felt quite sexy in them, especially since she'd left off her bra. This wasn't as bold a move as it might have been if the jumper had been a lighter colour. Her nipples, despite feeling tight and tingly, weren't obvious at a glance. But her unfettered breasts moved like jelly as she hurried downstairs, making her intensely aware of her body, and how turned on she already was.

  She loved—and loathed—the feeling. One part of her hated being powerless to control her passion for Jack, but the greater part of her wanted to wallow in it, to experience all there was to experience whilst he was here, to make memories which were probably going to have to last her a lifetime.

  This last thought brought such a sharp pain to her heart that she stopped abruptly with a gasp, and clutched at the balustrade.

  Jack chose just that moment to walk out of the room and catch her standing there, looking stricken. To give him credit, his eyes mirrored immediate concern. 'Are you all right?' he asked worriedly, and dashed around to leap up the stairs and put a gentle hand around her shoulder.

  She just stared up at him. She'd heard of people dying of a broken heart. Was that going to be her fate when he left?

  'What is it?' he demanded to know, eyes searching her strained face. 'Are you ill?'

  'A...a pain,' she said truthfully. 'Like a vice. Here...' And she lifted a shaky hand from the balustrade to cover her heart.

  He looked even more alarmed. 'You have some kind of heart trouble?'

  'Not...not that I know of...' At least, not in any physical sense.

  ' 'Your mother died'of a coronary, though, didn't she?'

  She nodded.

  'You should get yourself checked out, Courtney. Have an ultrasound. And an ECG. These things can sometimes be congenital.'

  Agnes came out into the hallway. 'What is it? What's wrong?'

  'Courtney had some kind of burn. It could be angina.'

  Courtney swiftly pulled herself together at the shock on Agnes's face. She hadn't realised till that moment just how much the old lady loved her. 'It's not angina,' she insisted. 'More likely heartburn. I get that sometimes when I forget to eat.'

  Jack didn't look entirely convinced, but Agnes looked relieved and then annoyed, as loved ones do after a fright. 'We noticed you didn't have any lunch,' Agnes said tartly. 'Next thing, you'll be getting anorexic. As if we don't have enough things to be worried about around here. Jack told me about that darned fool stallion Hilary bought. A flop, like the last one.'

  'Goldplated's not a flop,' Courtney defended. 'And neither was Four-Leaf Clover. He died. That was hardly his fault. His progeny are now coming good. Lois thinks Big Brutus could win the Melbourne Cup. Do you know how much money the Melbourne Cup is worth?'

  Agnes gave a scoffing laugh. 'Lord preserve us. I thought you had more sense than to believe a word that woman says when it comes to trophy races, or to start relying on horse winnings to get Crosswinds out of debt.'

  'I'm not. I'm relying on Jack.'

  'Well, Jack can't do miracles,' Agnes pronounced bluntly. 'I can't see any sensible investor putting his money into Crosswinds now, not with Goldplated being damned useless at his job.' •

  'Now, Agnes,' Jack intervened gently but firmly, his arm still around Courtney's shoulders, 'let's give the poor horse a chance. I have a hunch that the new groom Courtney hired today will bring Goldplated around to perform as required.'

  'I'm pretty sure he can,' Courtney joined in. 'I was talking to him later this afternoon and he says the main problem to be avoided is setting off the bad memories the horse has in his head. So he's going to put Goldplated in a large yard with an experienced mare who's in season, and let nature takes its course without any interference from anyone. There is to be no handling at all. Sean believes a colt as young and as healthy'as Goldplated won't be able to resist. He thinks that, once he gets a taste for it, he'll gradually be able to introduce some careful human handling till Goldplated won't give a hoot who's holding him, or where he's doing it.'

  'Disgusting,' Agnes snorted. 'But that's the male animal for you. Still, it's not a nice topic of conversation. Do you think we could talk about something else over dinner? Speaking of dinner, I'll just go get it out of the oven. I've made the most delicious lamb hotpot, even if I say so myself. You two go and sit down. I won't be too long.'

  Agnes hurried off, leaving Courtney alone with Jack on the stairs.

  'Let's go,' she said straight away, feeling self-conscious at the way Jack immediately started looking her over, his eyes not missing a trick.

  'You're not going out later dressed like that, are you?' he asked, an accusing edge in his voice.

  'Like what?'

  'Naked, under your clothes.'

  'I am not naked!'

  'You're damned well close to it!'

  'Don't be ridiculous.'

  'I'm far from being ridiculous. I'm an intelligent man. You haven't come down in that sexy gear for me. That, I know. So, who's it for, I ask? There's only one possible explanation. The new man. Sean. I saw the way he stared at you today. And I heard the way you talked about him just now. You think he's the ant's pants, don't you? You fancy him. You've arranged to meet him after dinner, haven't you? You'll make some bloody excuse about a foal when really you'll be off with that smooth-talking Irishman.'

  'Now you're being really ridiculous,' she snapped. "The man's old enough to be my father!'

  'Still handsome, though. And fit as a fiddle, by the look of him. You like him. Why don't you admit it?'

  'I like him, yes. But not in that way. He's not my type at all.'

  'And what's your type?' he snapped.

  Jack's outburst of jealousy was so typically male. Courtney had experienced male possessiveness before and after she'd had sex with a man. Yet they hadn't loved her, any more than Jack did. They'd just wanted her to be exclusively theirs till they decided it was time to move on.

  Courtney never gave a man a chance to do that. She always sent them packing first

  Jack, of course, was a different kettle of fish. Jack, she loved. Jack, she would never send packing.

  This frustrating realisation did not make her behave well.

  'My type?' she threw up at him. 'I thought you were intelligent. You're my type, Jack. You should have noticed that by now. Or do you think I make a habit of

  crawling naked into men's beds at night? I wore these clothes for you, not Sean. I'm half-naked under them for you!'

  His eyes immediately darkened, his arms snaking round her waist then yanking her hard against him. 'You little tease. Do you have any idea how much I've missed you today? How hard it's been, waiting for you to come back to the house?'

  'Wonderfully hard, by the feel of things," she taunted softly, her mouth barely centimetres away from his, their hot breaths mingling.

  He sucked in sharply when she began making provocative little side to side movements with her hips.

  'Stop that,' he hissed.

  'Make me'

  He did, with astonishing ease, grabbing her wrists and bringing them down behind her back, lifting them upwards' till she winced with the pain.

  'I told you that one day someone was going to take you in hand.' he ground out through gritted teeth, an angry slash of red across his cheekbones. 'In the old days I'd have put you over my knee and paddled you till you behaved yourself. But it isn't the old days, unfortunately. Since beating you is out of the question, I'll have to use the only weapon I have: the fact you want me as much as I want you. So while you're eating your dinner think about this. Later tonight
, I'm going to make love to you so much you won't be able to sit down properly for a week. There won't be a position untried, nor any foreplay forbidden. You like being on top? Be my guest. It's a great position. Leaves a man's hands free to do all sorts of things, touch all sorts of places. And there's the added bonus of being able to see every inch of your totally naked body, to watch your face twist, your eyes widen, your mouth fall open, to witness that moment when you forget where you are and who you are.'

  Courtney gasped at the image of herself in such a state. And the thought of Jack, watching her.

  His dark threats should have disgusted her, but they didn't. They, thrilled her and excited her. Unbearably.

  'For Pete's sake, where are you two?' Agnes called out from the dining room. 'Dinner's on the table!'

  'Be right there, Agnes,' Jack called back, as cool as could be.

  He let her wrists go, turning her and pushing her in the small of her back in the direction of the dining room. She stumbled, not because his shove was all that hard but because her legs had gone to jelly. When he reached out to steady her from behind she shrugged him away, pulling herself together and striding on ahead into the dining room. As wickedly turned on as she was, no way was she going to give Jack the satisfaction of seeing that fact.

  Yes, she loved him. And, yes, she always lost her head when he was making love to her.

  But she didn't have to lose her pride, or her self-respect.

  Her face was as cool as his by the time she sat down at the table. She was nicely in control. Till Jack spoke.

  'Did you remember to ring your accountant?' he asked.

  She hadn't, of course. It had gone clear out of her mind. ''

  'No, I didn't,' she had to confess, an embarrassed colour tingeing her cheeks. 'I forgot.'

  Something close to triumph gleamed in his eyes. 'Not to worry,' he said lightly. 'You can ring him tomorrow. There's no real rush, is there? The next day will do just as well.'

  'I guess so,' she mumbled, and fell to silently eating her meal.

  Jack didn't try to draw her into conversation after that, a manoeuvre, she suspected, that was not out of kindness. He didn't want her to have any distraction from thinking about what he'd said out on the stairs, from thinking about that moment after Agnes had safely gone to bed and she would present herself in his room once more, not just naked this time, but already cruelly aroused. '

  She tried to find some willpower to fight him with, but jonce again the only weapon she could find against his power was a facade of boldness. She would go to him with a bang, not a whimper!

  Dinner was over far too quickly, leaving several hours before Agnes's usual bedtime of ten-thirty.

  If Courtney had thought the day was long, then the evening proved interminable with Jack not letting her get away with anything. When she offered to clear up and, do the washing-up, he jumped up to help her. When she settled on the sofa to watch television, he sat right beside her, instead of in the armchair he'd occupied before dinner. The only reason she didn't say she had to check on something down at the stud was because she knew Jack would come with her.

  Yet she knew he wouldn't touch her. Not at that point He would just stay with her, watching and waiting, as he was secretly watching and waiting now. She could feel it in her rapidly heating blood. He thought she'd been teasing him today, and he was paying her back in kind. And to very good effect Inside, she was a right mess.

  She didn't look a mess at ten-forty-five that night when she entered Jack's room without knocking. She was still fully dressed, for starters, which was one over Jack, who was I propped up against the i headboard, his chest bare

  against a mountain of pillows. She couldn't see the rest of him. The bedclothes were pulled up to his waist. But she suspected all of him was bare as well.

  She swallowed at the thought of it, but covered her excitement with a cool smile.

  'No fire tonight?' she remarked as she strolled over towards the dead hearth.

  'No.' He placed his book down on the bedside table. 'I thought we would be hot enough without one.' She arched her dark winged eyebrows and reached up to undo the gold clip in her hair. 'Did you, now?' she said, and placed it carefully on the marble mantelpiece before shaking out her hair.

  'Uh-huh.'

  When she turned to face him, Courtney was gratified to see tension had crept into the set of his shoulders. He looked less like a cat playing with a mouse, and more like a starving lion, desperate for a kill.

  'Are you going to just stand over there all night?' he grated out.

  'No.' Crossing her arms, she picked up the bottom of her black jumper and reefed it over her head in one movement, tossing it aside as though she did this sort of thing every day: stripped off before men without a qualm.

  Which she possibly had, on occasion. But things were different with Jack. Everything was different with Jack. Her usual boldness was mixed with an uncharacteristic vulnerability. His hungry gaze alternately excited, then embarrassed her. Suddenly she wanted to cover herself, to not let him see her naked breasts and their rock-like nipples.

  But pride had her walking brazenly towards him, her chin lifting as she tossed her curls back from her face. Unfortunately they fell forward again, as they always did when not anchored back in some way, a riotous mass of raven curls and waves which defied taming, as she was trying to defy taming.

  "What about the rest?'

  She stopped and complied, without fuss. For that would have given him all the more power.

  'So what now?' she challenged once she was totally nude. 'Am I to do cartwheels? Be tied to the bedposts? What, O lord and master.' Mockery was always a good defence.

  'All I want,' he growled, 'is you...in here...with me.' And he threw back the quilt.

  'Courtney stared at him. He was naked. And stunningly aroused. '

  She really should not have fallen into bed with him so eagerly, or let him plunge into her without any foreplay, or cry put his name quite so often during that first torrid mating!

  But she did and he liked it. Too much, she worried.

  When he started making love to her again, she thought she acted far more restrained, until he hoisted her on top and proved to her that, with him, her being on top bore no correlation to being on top in any other way.

  She tried so hard not to come, or to lose control, or to cry out his name again, but failed on all counts.

  There was some comfort in Jack's lack of control as well, and the fact it was her name he cried out at his moment of release. Not Katrina's. And he didn't close his eyes once, or sigh any sad sighs.

  If nothing else, Courtney could remember that fact for the rest of her life: that for one wonderful, erotic night, the man she loved thought only of her.

  'I RANG Bill,' Courtney relayed to Jack at ten past nine the following morning. 'I told him about you, and that you wanted to see him about the stud's financial status.'

  Jack was sitting at the kitchen table, having another mug of coffee after breakfast. 'And?'

  'He said for us to come in straight away.'

  'Us? I thought I'd go in alone. You said you were flat-out here. And, let's face it, I could hardly get lost. There's only the one road into Queenswood and I'm sure Mr Sinclair's office shouldn't be too hard to find. Didn't you say it was over the hardware store?'

  'Yes,' Courtney admitted curtly. 'Look, it wasn't my idea we both go. It was Bill's. He sounded...odd.'

  Jack put down his mug. 'In what way?'

  'Stressed.'

  'What's odd about that? Everybody gets stressed occasionally these days. He might have had an argument with his missus.'

  'Bill doesn't have a missus. He's a crusty old bachelor. He's sixty if he's a day and married to his job and his golf clubs.' No, I have an awful feeling that the bank's called in the loan.'

  Jack's straight dark brows shot upwards. 'What makes you think that? Have you been getting letters of warning?'

  'No.'

  "Then that would b
e very unlikely. Still, if that was the case, surely your Bill would have said something over the phone.'

  'You don't know Bill. He hates relaying bad news over the phone. He prefers to do business face to face.'

  'Ah...an old-fashioned gentleman, is he?'

  'Yes.'

  'I think I'm going to like Bill.'

  This statement brought considerable irritation. Jack wouldn't be around long enough to form any real relationship with Bill. Even if his mystery client came to the party as her silent business partner, Courtney couldn't see Jack whizzing all the way up here to Queenswood on any regular basis. Face-to-face transactions were really a thing of the past, as Jack himself had just noted.

  'Courtney, darling, do stop worrying,' Jack said smoothly. "There's no point in crossing your bridges before you come to them. If your accountant has bad news, we'll deal with it together, okay?'

  Courtney was taken aback, not only by the casually tossed 'darling', but his reassurance of support, no matter what. Surprise swiftly gave way to exasperation. She might be a push-over in bed where he was concerned, but she wasn't a total fool out of it!

  'I don't see how,' she snapped. 'If the bank has called in the loan, I can't see you recommending Crosswinds as an investment at this point in time, can you? I doubt even the best sex in the world would change your mind on that score.'

  'Stop jumping the gun, Courtney. Not to mention jumping to conclusions. Wait and see what Bill has to say.'

  'I know what he's going to say. I can feel it.'

  Jack rose from his chair. "Then let's get going and see if you're right.'

  Everything inside Courtney tightened. Til just tell Agnes we're off.'

  Bill read the letter from the bank one moreitime. Damn Hilary, he thought. She should have told him the bank had been sending her letters of warning.' He could have advised her.

  But she hadn't. She'd lied to the bank instead, saying that in November she was going to cash ina couple of large insurance policies to repay the loan, She'd even quoted company names and policy numbers. Naturally they'd hung off sending any more letters after her death, thinking those insurance policies would have i definitely covered the loan, since death pay-outs we're I always higher than any premature pay-out figure. But a belated phone call to Hilary's named insurance company had finally shown there were no such policies.

 

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