by Penny Jordan
It was part of it; the major part, perhaps.
‘You’re a young and very attractive woman; haven’t you ever wondered—’
‘No.’
Her sharp denial cut across what he had been going to say.
‘I wasn’t about to make you a proposition,’ he said grimly.
Claire looked at him. ‘No, I know that. It’s just that I can’t even talk about the intimacy of a physical relationship with someone without remembering him.’
‘Because what he did to you patterned your sexual responses,’ Jay told her quietly. ‘Claire, there’s something I want to talk to you about.’
What on earth was he going to say? She watched as he walked over to a cupboard and poured them both a brandy.
She took a sip when he handed her the glass, feeling the raw spirit slide down her throat.
‘When I said I wasn’t going to proposition you, I meant it, but I do have a proposal to put to you. Neither of us, for differing reasons, wants the intimacy of a marriage based on the current concept of what marriage should be—neither of us want the physical or emotional commitment such a marriage involves. But there are other types of marriages: marriage entered into between two people who have other things to offer one another. Recently I’ve been giving it a lot of thought, and I believe that you and I could make such a marriage work. No, listen to me,’ he demanded, when she started to protest. ‘I need someone to look after Heather, but whoever I found could never give her the love she’s already getting from you. I admit that when I first realised how attached to you she was getting I resented it, but you can give her something I can’t and I can give you and Lucy something you can’t—security financially. He paused. ‘I’m not going to ask you to give me your answer now, but I want you to think about it while I’m away. I can promise you that sexually you’ll never need to fear anything from me.’
Claire stared at him. He didn’t strike her as a man who lived like a monk, and as though he had read her mind, he said sardonically, ‘I had an extremely satisfying sexual relationship with Susie, Claire, if that’s what you’re wondering, and if I want sex there are plenty of women who will oblige me. You needn’t worry that I might embarrass you by indulging in a series of affairs, either; I won’t.’
No, he wouldn’t do that. All those overseas trips would no doubt provide more than adequate opportunities for relieving any sexual frustration he might experience.
‘I don’t know what to say …’
She knew what she ought to be saying if she’d any sense. She ought to be telling him that what he was suggesting was unthinkable.
‘I don’t want you to say anything right now. I want you to think about what I’ve said, that’s all.’
‘If … if I agreed. Would we … would we live here?’
Now what on earth had made her ask that? It made it sound as though she was seriously considering his outrageous proposal.
‘Yes.’ Jay frowned. ‘Don’t you like the house?’
‘It’s very lovely, but I have nightmares every time the girls come in with muddy boots on.’
‘Oh, that!’ Instantly his face cleared. ‘Yes, it is rather impractical. Susie chose the décor; someone once told her that white was her colour. Well, of course you can change it if you wish.’
It surprised Claire that he appeared so uninterested. In her experience, after the break-up of a relationship the partner who retained the house always either threw out everything connected with the relationship and started again, or clung desperately to every last thing that had been bought or chosen together; Jay fell into neither of those categories.
‘Personally, I’ve never been all that keen on it,’ he said. ‘It looks lifeless.’
‘You could always employ a nanny to take care of Heather, you know,’ Claire felt bound to remind him.
‘She loves you, and besides, a nanny couldn’t give the same sort of permanence that would result from our marriage. Lucy needs a father just as much as Heather needs a mother, Claire. I like your daughter very much. I promise you I would always treat both of them equally.’
She knew that he would, and that he was right. Lucy was already becoming very attached to him. On the face of it marriage between them would be the ideal solution to all their problems, but human beings were irrational creatures and marriage was such an irrevocable step—at least to her.
‘Think about it,’ said Jay, drinking the last of his brandy. ‘I promise I won’t mention it again until I come back from Dallas. That should give you time to weigh up the pros and cons.’
‘But what if you should meet someone else … someone you could fall in love with …?’
His mouth compressed. ‘I won’t.’ he told her starkly. ‘I made that mistake with Susie and I soon learned that a woman only wants a man just as long as he remains out of reach. Once she knew I loved her that was it: she lost interest in me, emotionally if not sexually.’
He saw her expression and smiled grimly.
‘Oh yes, there are women like that, Claire, women who enjoy sex uninhibitedly for sex’s sake alone—and Susie was certainly one of them. She married me because she was expecting my child. She didn’t want to, but I persuaded her. She thought I was a wealthy man; when she realised I wasn’t, the marriage began to go sour, but even at its worst we still slept together, right up until the day she left with Brett. I learned after she’d gone that Brett hadn’t been her only lover—he was just the richest. You see, his partnership with me was only one of his business interests. His father is a millionaire.’
He was still very bitter over the betrayal; Claire could also see it so clearly. She could also see exactly why a marriage that was merely a business arrangement would appeal to him. But would he feel like that for ever? Might there not come a time when he was ready to love again, and when he did, what would happen to her?
Why was she even thinking about it? Surely a marriage between them was out of the question? But was it? Sitting talking to him tonight she had felt completely relaxed, and even happy, at least until he had brought up the subject of sex; she could live with him, she knew that, and more importantly, if she married him she would be bringing stability into the lives of both Lucy and Heather.
‘Think about it, Claire,’ he urged again.
CHAPTER FIVE
SUPPRESSING A FAINT SIGH, Claire replaced the telephone receiver. The news from Jay’s insurance broker, that the insurance company had no liability under her policy, had not come as a total surprise, but even so …
Pushing her depression to one side, she stood up and walked over to the drawing-room window. Through it she could see Lucy and Heather playing in the garden. A faint flush of excitement coloured Heather’s pale skin, her happy laughter mingling with Lucy’s.
‘Let’s have no illusions between us, Claire,’ Jay had said before he left, when she had tried to point out to him that it went against everything she herself believed in for her to escape her financial problems by marrying him. ‘We both have something the other needs. I know you well enough to know that you aren’t the mercenary type, if that’s what’s worrying you.’
‘But practical considerations alone are surely no secure base for something like marriage,’ she had protested, and instantly his expression had hardened, his eyes shadowed and cold as he demanded in a clipped voice, ‘What do you consider to be a sound base? Love? Is that what you want, to fall in love with someone and share your life and your body with him?’
She had sensed that he had been deliberately reminding her of what marriage really was, and she had flinched away from him.
‘I need you in my life, Claire, and I’m not too proud to tell you so,’ he had continued. ‘I need you as a mother for Heather, and perhaps later on, if you feel up to it, as a hostess for my business colleagues. If this contract with Dallas gets off the ground, several of the company’s executives will be wanting to come over here and see how our operation works, but entertaining them isn’t something I’d want to press on
you if you felt you couldn’t cope. I’m not ashamed to say that I need you, and if you’re honest you need me too. We both know that you can’t afford to have the cottage repaired. You don’t want to go back to the sort of life you lived before you inherited it. I’m not buying you, Claire, and you’re not selling yourself into marriage with me; we’re entering a mutually beneficial arrangement.’
‘You make it all sound very businesslike.’
‘Isn’t that what you want?’ His expression had unsettled her. ‘Or are you secretly looking for a Prince Charming to release you from your repression with the magic of his kiss?’
Her body tensed as she recalled the mockery in his voice as he delivered those words. Until that moment she had not even known herself how strong a hold that sort of foolish daydream had on her deepest and most private thoughts. Even so, she had denied it vigorously to him, and now, within a few short days he would be back, expecting an answer to the proposition he had put to her.
The girls’ laughter reached her through the thick glass. Outside it was cold, frost riming the edges of the lawn where the sun had still not touched. Inside, the house was comfortably warm; pinching economies like needing to keep a check on central heating bills did not feature in Jay’s world. Did she have the moral right to deprive Lucy of all that Jay could provide—and not just in the more obvious materialistic terms? There were other, more important considerations, such as the fact that already Lucy was becoming attached to Jay, that through him she could have the sort of education that would give her the very best sort of start in life, and that she and Jay together could give both girls the kind of stable, calm background that she sincerely believed gave untold benefits to the children who received them.
And it wasn’t just her own child she had to consider. There was Heather as well. Heather, who was only just now starting to come out of her shell; Heather who clung to Claire at bedtime when she kissed her goodnight, who would appear at her side, almost out of nowhere, as if to check up on the fact that she was still there. All these considerations tipped the scales in favour of Jay’s proposal.
And against it? What was there? Her own stubborn desire to remain self-supporting? Her dislike of any tag being attached to her that might label her as a mercenary, scheming woman taking advantage of a lone male with a small child to bring up? Her very deep-rooted fear of the state of marriage, of the powerful position in her life that it would give to Jay? But she already had his word that their marriage would be a business relationship only, and she knew that she could trust him. She had no illusions about Jay’s sexuality. Even she could see that he was the sort of man whose passion was a powerful motivating force in his life—but he was also good-looking and male enough not to need to coerce any woman where sex was concerned. Putting it at its most cynical and logical, what would be the point in him wasting his time trying to coax her into a sexual relationship when, doubtless, there were countless number of women only too eager to have that privilege? No, she had nothing to fear from him in that way.
But there were other dangers. Claire bit her lip, gnawing anxiously on it. She already knew how vulnerable she herself was to emotional bonding. Witness the way her feelings for Heather had grown to the point where her love for the little girl was almost enough on its own to make her accede to Jay’s proposal.
Jay was a very charismatic and genuinely fascinating man. A man, moreover, who took the trouble to talk to her as an equal—a man whom it would be very easy to come to depend on, in a way she had not had someone to depend on since the death of her parents. Yes, there was a very real danger there, but surely the mere fact that she was aware of it would make her wary and careful. She would not burden Jay with an emotionalism he wouldn’t want, even if it was only the emotion of friendship rather than sexual love.
Both of them, in their separate ways, had been crippled emotionally by life; both of them together could build a secure home for their children that would enable them to put down the strong roots every living thing needed to grow.
‘WHEN WILL JAY BE BACK?’
‘Later on this afternoon,’ Claire responded.
‘Can we go and meet him at the airport, please, Mummy?’
Claire shook her head firmly, ignoring Lucy’s cry of disappointment. As always, fortunately, her daughter’s attention proved fairly easy to distract. She was unlike Heather in that respect, who would worry and brood over something until it was sorted out to her satisfaction.
Jay’s return coincided with the half-term holidays. Claire had made tentative plans to take the girls to Bristol, mainly to buy them both new clothes, and she had also rashly promised a brief visit to the zoo.
How long would Jay wait before demanding an answer to his proposal? Not long, she suspected. He was a decisive man who would not tolerate shilly-shallying in others. Inwardly she knew that her decision had been made, but even so, actually telling Jay that she was prepared to marry him was something she wasn’t looking forward to doing. Actually saying the words made it seem so final. She guessed that he wouldn’t want to wait very long after her agreement before legally formalising their marriage.
Partly because Lucy had pleaded with her and partly to avoid being left alone with him, Claire had agreed that the girls’ evening meal could be delayed so that they could share it with Jay.
She had no real idea or knowledge of his culinary preferences, but knowing the delays that could arise both during the flight and after it, she had made another casserole, a slightly more glamorous one this time: chicken breasts in a special sauce, which she intended to serve with duchesse potatoes, and fresh vegetables. She suspected that after several days in Dallas Jay would be heartily sick of prime steak, and so the chicken should be a welcome change.
Leaving both girls happily occupied in the kitchen with their crayoning books, she went upstairs to check on Jay’s room.
Shortly after he had left she had entered it for the first time to strip his bed, and as it had then, when she opened the door and walked into it, its almost monastic austerity surprised her. She didn’t know what she had expected, but it certainly hadn’t been this coldly plain room, so empty of any personal possessions that it might have belonged to a hotel. The large bed was covered by a plain, dull spread. The bedside tables held only a telephone and an alarm clock. A bank of fitted wardrobes and cupboards presented a plain cream front to her cursory glance. Brown curtains hung at the window to tone with the neutral-coloured carpet.
All in all, the room was spectacularly uninspiring and, unlike the rest of the house, did not reveal the decorative hand of Jay’s ex-wife.
Claire wondered why. She already knew from Heather which room had been her mother’s, and although she had not as yet ventured inside it she had assumed that Jay must have shared it with her. She could well understand him choosing to sleep in a different room after the break-up of the marriage, but what she couldn’t fathom out was why this one room out of the whole house had not been redecorated.
Arming herself with clean sheets, she set about making the bed. Jay had his own private bathroom off his bedroom, and she was just on her way out when she remembered he would need fresh towels.
The telephone rang, distracting her. She hurried to answer it, surprised to hear Jay’s voice as she picked up the receiver.
‘I just thought I’d let you know I’d landed. I’m calling in at the factory on my way back. I should be home for about six.’
He didn’t say anything else. Claire had no opportunity to ask him about the contract. He had sounded tired, and he had made no mention of his proposal—but then he wouldn’t, of course.
‘What are we going to have for pudding?’ Lucy asked her as she walked into the kitchen.
‘You could make an apple pie,’ suggested Heather eagerly. ‘It’s Daddy’s favourite.’
Telling herself that it was what she had, after all, planned to make, Claire cleared the table and started making pastry, carefully checking the enthusiastic assistance of her two ‘helpe
rs’.
Baking was something she had always found therapeutic, and somehow one thing led to another. The mouthwatering aroma of cooking pastry and fruit mingled with that of the chicken, and Claire was just putting a final dollop of mixture in to some bun tins when she heard the sound of a car.
‘It’s Jay,’ shrieked Lucy eagerly, scrambling down from her stool, and rushing for the back door.
Jay reached it first, his eyebrows lifting slightly as he walked in.
‘You’re early?’ For some reason Claire felt oddly shaky. He looked so alien standing in the kitchen, in his immaculate business suit and his crisp white shirt.
‘Yes … and we’ve been making your very favourite—apple pie,’ Lucy announced.
A sudden awareness of pastry-sticky fingers and flour-smeared hands made Claire dart forward to pick Lucy up before she could inflict any damage on his immaculate suit, but Jay forestalled her, swinging Lucy up into his arms, so that she shrieked with delight.
‘Jay, your suit …’ She reached up automatically to brush off the floury marks left by Lucy’s hands and then realised to her mortification that her own were equally floury.
‘Stop fussing, it will clean.’
He put Lucy down and held out his arms to Heather. As always she clung to Claire’s side. Bending down, she gave her a little push. ‘Go and kiss Daddy hello.’
Over Heather’s dark head Jay gave her a wry look.
‘Odd, isn’t it? Your daughter can’t wait to fling herself into my arms, whereas mine …’
‘Give her time,’ Claire urged in a low voice. ‘She’s such a sensitive child, and she’s had too many upheavals in her life. She needs to learn that she can trust you always to be there. She needs stability …’
‘Yes, she does.’
The look he gave her was direct and determined, and ridiculously, Claire felt hot colour sting her face.
Luc’s impatient tug on her skirt caused a welcome diversion. ‘Mummy, what’s a woman?’
