A suitable husband

by Steele, Jessica

  Again and again she recalled his tenderness, the gentle endearments he had murmured while making love to her. Was she his sweet love, his darling, his sweetheart? Oh, she so wanted to be.

  She tried hard for logic, tried hard not to believe what she wanted to believe. Admittedly, she didn't know very much about it, but weren't men apt to say anything in the heat of lovemaking?

  But—she changed her mind—she didn't want to listen to logic. Besides, even desiring her as he undoubtedly had—and here her in-sides were all of a mish-mash as she recalled their mutual desire as they'd lain naked together—Lukas was more sincere than that. Somehow she instinctively seemed to know that, even while he desired her, he would

  never, even should his physical need try to rule him, say something he did not mean.

  Which—her heart gave a flutter—must mean, if she trusted her instinct, that when Lukas said, 'If you care anything for me,' he in turn must care a little something for her. Oh, could she believe that? She so wanted to. Why else, if he didn't care for her, would Lukas want to meet her away from the house?

  There was too much traffic in the house, he'd said. Which must mean that he wanted to be alone with her—away from the house. Didn't that then mean that he wanted to talk to her? No way did he want them to meet away from the house so that they could make love. Jermaine smiled at the thought. Lukas was hardly likely to get amorous sitting on that bench with snow all around. So—what did he want to talk to her about?

  Her brain refused to go any further, to speculate, to hope. She began to feel all of a tremble inside, and couldn't stay in bed any longer. By seven o'clock she had been up ages. She was showered, dressed, had light make-up applied, in fact she was all ready to go—and had an hour and a half to wait.

  But by the time half past seven came around she was in a hopeless muddle of differing emotions. She couldn't sit; she couldn't stand still. She took to constantly looking at the painting Lukas had given her, but was in such a turmoil she could not concentrate on seeing more in the painting than she already had.

  She loved her gift. It was so personal. She had no idea when he had bought it, but it had to have been before last night. Lukas had bought it especially for her—had meant it for her because he knew that she had been so taken with it. Did that mean that he cared a little for her? Or was she being totally stupid?

  At eight o'clock she felt she could not take walking up and down her room, combing her hair, checking she looked all right, washing her hands and lingering over her painting for much longer.

  It was ten past eight when, by then in too much of an agitated state to stay in her room another minute—yet not wanting to appear too eager if she had got everything impossibly wrong by going to that bench twenty minutes ahead of time—Jermaine had the vague idea of perhaps popping into the kitchen and whiling away some time with Mrs Dobson.

  To Jermaine then it seemed about the only decision she was capable of making, and, remembering the way that door had slammed

  last night, she was desperate not to disturb the whole household. It would just about finish her if she had got everything totally muddled and wrong, and she alerted Lukas to the fact she couldn't wait to see him and was leaving her room so much ahead of time.

  Silently, hardly breathing, Jermaine left her room, closing the door without a sound. She was fully aware that her sister never surfaced before nine, so was taken by surprise when, almost at Edwina's room, Jermaine spotted that the door stood wide open!

  In two minds about retreating back to her own room—she had other things in her head besides doing battle with Edwina if she was on the prowl about something and was watching for her to pass—Jermaine almost did an about-turn. But she had already spent enough time pacing up and down, and perhaps Edwina wouldn't spot her.

  Edwina did spot her though—she looked directly at her through half-closed eyes. But as a smirk of a smile tweaked Edwina's mouth, and she closed her eyes and her expression became dreamy, it was all too clear that she had other concerns than baiting her younger sister. But that did not stop Jermaine from feeling poleaxed. Because Edwina was not alone!

  Feeling totally shattered, the colour draining from her face, Jermaine just couldn't believe what her eyes were telling her. For there, holding her sister aloft in his arms, was the man with whom Jermaine had an assignation in twenty minutes' time!

  Staggered beyond bearing, Jermaine was incapable of moving, and so had to stand and watch while the man who less than twelve hours ago had picked her up and carried her over to her bed, now carried her dreamy-expressioned sister over to her bed!

  Stunned, reeling, it was only the thought that she too must have worn pretty much the self-same expression that Edwina was wearing now that maliciously stabbed Jermaine into life.

  Ten minutes after that and she was coming out of shock to realise she was back in her room and that, quite without being fully aware of what she had been doing, she had tossed her belongings into her case and was ready to leave.

  Her eyes lit on her painting, the one she had so idiotically allowed herself to believe Lukas had purchased for her because he had some liking for her. The pain that hit her then was almost physical. She looked away from the

  painting, looked out through the window, absently seeing that Ash had just brought his car round to the front of the house from the garages at the rear.

  He had got out and was using some de-icing device when Jermaine suddenly came out of her only half-aware state and was all at once galvanised into action.

  When Jermaine left her room, she left behind her picture. She didn't want to think. To think hurt too much. But she knew without thinking that she could not take with her the picture that had meant so much to her and so little to him.

  The door to Edwina's room was now closed. Jermaine sprinted past it, only just holding down a sob. Was he still in there with her? Were they laughing together at the thought that the stupid virgin would shortly be out there, sitting waiting on a bench in the snow, while the man Jermaine would be waiting for was very patently busy elsewhere?

  Unable to bear the nightmare flashes in her head, of Lukas lying with Edwina in the same way he had lain with her last night, Jermaine hung onto a thread of sanity and raced out of there. It was that or go storming into that room

  to have a few short, sharp words with the venomous snake Lukas Tavinor.

  Ash was in the driving seat about to pull away when Jermaine hared out through the front door. She was suddenly too incensed to be aware if the case she hauled with her weighed two pounds or two hundred.

  'Jermaine!' Ash exclaimed, getting out of the vehicle when he saw her white and anguished face. 'What...?'

  'Would you take me to the nearest railway station?' she cut in without more ado.

  'But, sweetheart...'

  My stars, they were both at it! 'I'll walk!' she snapped.

  Ash moved. He moved fast and grabbed her case from her. 'Get in,' he said, and, going round to the passenger door, he opened it for her. 'What...?' he began again.

  'If you really want to be my friend—as you last night wanted to be—you'll drive on without questioning me!' she told him tautly—and didn't breathe freely again until after Ash had started up the vehicle and had driven half a mile away from Highfield.

  She was aware then that Ash had been glancing at her from time to time, but it was about five minutes later when he glanced at her

  again and assured her, 'Believe me, Jermaine, 'I'm not trying to pry. I can tell you're upset. But may I know why you need to get to a railway station?'

  She would have thought that was obvious. 'I'm going home,' she replied bluntly.

  'To your parents?'

  Oh, grief. If she went back there, her father would go on and on about her leaving Edwina on her own. The way she was feeling, Jermaine didn't think she would be able to refrain from telling him a few home truths about his elder pride and joy.


  'To my home, my flat,' she answered, and found that Ash had been speaking the truth about being her friend when he insisted that he would drive her back to London.

  'The trains may not have resumed a full service after the holiday yet,' he reasoned. But added after a moment or two's thought. Though I'll need to fill up with petrol first.'

  Jermaine realized she was putting him to a great deal of trouble, but with Lukas and his treachery spinning around and around in her head she could only feel grateful to Ash for getting her away from Highfield and that cold-hearted monster.

  It had gone nine when Ash finally found a petrol station that was open. 'I won't be long,' he said, opening the door after filling up and pointing to the office, where he was going to pay.

  She followed his direction, but as weak tears suddenly, unexpectedly, pricked the back of her eyes, she looked away. Pride rushed to the fore, decreeing that no one should see exactly what Lukas Tavinor had done to her.

  'Take as long as you like,' she said as brightly as she could, which wasn't all that bright in reality, and as Ash went to settle the account she stared out of the car window, unseeing of anything as the pain of Lukas and his duplicity started to get through the barrier she was trying to erect.

  Ash could have been away two minutes, or twenty. Her head was so full of Lukas, of the way they had been with each other last night. For all she knew, he could have last night gone straight from her room to Edwina's.

  Ash had started up the car when a shaken dry sob caught Jermaine out. She quickly turned it into a cough, but saw Ash glance swiftly at her. 'Jermaine, L..' he began, as if her cough hadn't fooled him at all.

  'Don't, Ash,' she said tightly.

  'All right, love,' he agreed, but went on, 'Er—do you mind if we don't go on the motorway?' Adding, before she could answer, The thing is, while naturally I'm only too pleased to take you anywhere you want to go, I was on my way to do an errand across country.'

  Jermaine managed to find a smile. 'I'm truly grateful to you. Ash,' she repUed, when what she really wanted to do was to get back to her flat with all speed, close the door, and perhaps keep it that way until it was time for her to return to work. 'Please do your errand first. I'm in no hurry,' she assured him.

  The errand Ash had to do added about forty minutes to the journey. He pulled up outside a house out in the wilds somewhere. 'I won't be long,' he promised, and, true to his word, was soon back.

  They were further delayed, though, because Ash didn't want to risk going too fast with the roads still snow laden in parts. To Jermaine's mind. Ash was being excessively cautious. But, she owned, he probably wasn't. It just seemed that way because of her urgent need to be somewhere by herself, where she could lick her wounds in private.

  Her head was still besieged with everything that had taken place in the last twenty-four hours when they reached London. Why, oh, why had Lukas called at her parents' home yesterday? Why, when he was so obviously enamoured of Edwina, had he not ignored her father's broadest of hints that he take his younger daughter back to Highfield with him?

  Memories of the wonderful time they had shared sledging in the snow tried to get a foothold. She pushed them angrily away. That time was as phoney as Tavinor was phoney.

  All she'd been to him was a challenge, a challenge to his male ego; she saw that now. My stars, how could she have been so blind? Had she so soon forgotten his reaction, his 'get thee behind me, Satan' when she'd more or less told him she hadn't yet met the man who would make her want to make love with him?

  He hadn't been able to resist the temptation to put her to the test, had he? He'd even put aside his preference for Edwina for a short while. Jermaine swallowed down another dry sob as she recalled how she had been his for the taking last night. He had known that too— test over.

  Would he have made complete love to her, had not that door slamming brought him to an awareness that he had another, more experienced and therefore more exciting, willing woman three doors down...?

  Jermaine abruptly snatched her mind back from where it was going. She didn't think she could take much more without breaking down, and if that happened she wanted to be somewhere on her own.

  Thankfully, a minute later and Ash was pulling up outside where she lived. Thanks, Ash,' she said, when on the pavement he extracted her case. I'll ring you about that lunch,' she added, out of a need to part from him cheerfully.

  'I'll carry your case in for you,' he answered.

  'There's no need.' She was talking to his back, and there was nothing she could do but follow him and extract her keys from her bag.

  She unlocked the outer door. But when she stretched out her hand for her case. Ash opened the door and went in first. Oddly, instead of making for the stairs once he was inside, he glanced about and, though he knew the way to her flat from the days when they'd used to see each other, he did no more than place her case down on the hall floor.

  But, since nothing would surprise her any more—or so she'd thought—Jermaine didn't take much heed, until she suddenly heard him say, 'Been here long?' She turned to see whom he was addressing—and what little colour she had drained completely from her face.

  'Thanks, Ash,' Lukas answered. Lukas!

  Totally and utterly stunned, Jermaine stared at Lukas, vaguely realising that one of the other occupants of the building—most likely having recognised him from a previous visit— must have let him in. But that wasn't important. Because as she stared at Lukas she started to sense that something was going on between him and his brother—Ash didn't seem at all surprised to see Lukas there.

  She switched her gaze from Lukas to Ash, 'You phoned him?' she accused, bringing out the only logical thought in any of this—while more logic questioned why on earth Ash would do anything of the sort. 'You rang him on your mobile from that garage!' she exclaimed, even as she wondered why, anyway, would Lukas, in response to that call, beat all records to get here before them?

  'Make yourself scarce. Ash,' Lukas suggested evenly to him before he could answer her.

  'You'll be all right, Jermaine,' Ash looked at her to promise.

  'I won't hurt her,' Lukas assured him—and Jermaine came hurtling out of her trance, suddenly outraged.

  'That's right, you won't!' she yelled. 'You're both leaving!'

  Ash looked doubtful. Lukas settled the matter by ignoring the fact that Jermaine had a murderous kind of glint in her eyes and escorting his brother to the door.

  'Be in touch—soon,' Ash requested.

  'I will,' Lukas assured him quietly, let his brother out from the building and then, turning slowly around, he looked Jermaine steadily in the eye. 'Now,' he challenged harshly, refusing to let her look away, 'what have you got to say for yourself?'

  CHAPTER TEN

  What had she got to say for herself? Of all the confounded nerve! Fuming, her eyes flashing fire, Jermaine glared at him. She had expected, before this, that she would feel nothing for Lukas—that her feelings for him would die an instant death the moment she learned of his double-dealing with her sister. It had always happened before. But this time it had not. When she would by far prefer not to, Jermaine found that she still loved the perfidious rat.

  'What do you mean what have I got to say for myself?' she flew, enraged. Love him she might, but at this very moment she felt very much like burying something large and sharp in his head.

  His steady gaze did not waver, but when, just then, one of her neighbours began to emerge from further down the hall, Lukas enquired, his tone tough and uncompromising, 'Do you want to go the full twelve rounds out here?'

  She didn't. She was hurting, and she felt humiliated enough without having half the apartment block knowing all about it. 'Close the door on your way out!' she tossed at him hostilely, and made for the stairs.

  She had forgotten her case, but she was too proud to go back down for it while he was still in the building. Evidence that he was still
in the building—and she was looking nowhere but straight in front—was there in the fact that, to show her what he thought of her hostile dismissal, Lukas kept pace with her as she stormed up every stair. He was carrying her large case too.

  It came in handy for him when, reaching her door, she unlocked it intending to go in, do a swift about-turn and shut the door on him. It didn't work out that way, because as she went to shut the door—she discovered that her suitcase was wedged in the doorway.

  Jermaine threw Lukas a speaking look and turned her back on him. It did not surprise her that he followed her, uninvited, into her home. She heard the door close as she walked into her sitting room. She was not feeling any more friendly to him when, reaching the middle of her carpet, she spun round to face him.

  'Well?' she snapped. The nerve of him! The utter, villainous nerve of him!

  Her fury, it seemed, was not lost on him. He even seemed a bit put out himself, she realised, as he grated, 'I don't know what the hell you're so wild about!' The audacity of it! 'I was the one who was stood up!'

  'Stood up?' she echoed—she didn't believe this! He thought he could fool around with her and her sister and...

  'We had a date, you and me,' he snarled forthrightly—should she require any reminding.

  Ooh, was he asking for it—right between the eyes. 'As I remember it, there was a proviso on that arrangement!' she flared. 'It went something along the lines of "If you care anything for me".' Didn't she know the words off by heart? Hadn't she relived them, been enraptured by them all through that long night as she'd waited for dawn to come? But—suddenly she was aware that Lukas seemed badly shaken.

  'You're saying you care nothing for me?' he asked tautly.