He could barely suffer to speak to her, he held her in such contempt, Katy thought raggedly, and suddenly she had to fight to retain her anger.
'Stupidly I thought it was a legitimate birthday present. Now I realise you gave it to me for services rendered that weekend.' The thought of the first time they had made love all those years ago brought a sudden rush of moisture to her eyes. She blinked; what a naive idiot she had been, and it was all this man's fault.
'That is not true, Katy,' Jake said adamantly. 'It was a birthday present. I have never bought a woman in my life and I-----'
Katy's harsh laugh echoed in the sudden silence of the room. 'No, Jake?' she queried cynically.
His dark brows drew together in a deep frown, his lips a tight line rimmed in white. He was fighting to retain his own temper. But Katy didn't care. He couldn't intimidate her; not any more.
"The truth hard to stomach, darling?' she jeered.
'I've listened to you rant and rave, but nothing alters the facts. You can blame me for some things. But Claude and all the others... I don't think so,' he said sardonically, his hand dropping from her shoulder as he turned and sank down on to the sofa. 'Get a cab and go, Katy.' He waved a dismissive hand in her direction, picked up a newspaper and began to read.
His casual dismissal was the last straw for Katy. Her slender control snapped completely, and with a fury she did not know she possessed she swiped the paper from his hands. 'All what others?' she cried. 'You sanctimonious bastard. There were no others. You saw to that. You spoilt me for any other man. I gave you everything, believed your protestations of love, only to find out the truth about you just in time.'
Katy was not aware of Jake sitting up straighter on the sofa, the fierce tension tautening his large frame. Her eyes were fixed on his face but she did not really see him; she was reliving his first bitter betrayal.
'What truth, Katy?' The urgency in his tone escaped her; all she heard was the trace of cynicism.
She laughed, a harsh jangling sound, on the edge of hysteria. 'Monica! What about Monica, Jake?' she raged. 'My once stepmother, the lady you told me to try and get along with. Remember that, Jake? The lady you were bedding on a regular basis beneath her husband's, my father's, very nose.'
Katy, her emotions running riot, shot him a fulminating look of sheer hatred. 'I didn't go to France because I wanted to broaden my horizons; I went because I couldn't stomach the way you had used me, or intended to go on using me, even to offering marriage to hide your miserable affair.'
Suddenly Katy felt sick: she had told him more than she had ever wanted him to know. She swung around on one heel, stalked across the room and picked up a suitcase. Her rage was extinguished like a spent firework on the fourth of July.
Why bother? she asked herself. The man was without conscience or morals and his integrity was on a par with Attila the Hun. She was only hurting herself dredging up the past. She had to get away before she was physically sick.
She reached the door and her hand grasped the lock to open it. Jake had said not a word. But then why would he? she thought bitterly; he could not deny her charges. He was a low-down skunk of a man, and she had wasted quite enough of her life loving him. She breathed deeply and turned the key. From now on she was going to be her own woman. She had a good career in front of her, a child of her own to look forward to. Who needed a man? she asked herself.
She pushed open the door, but something held her back; she turned, unable to resist one last look at the man she had loved so deeply and for so long.
Jake was sitting where she had left him, his dark head thrown back, his face grey beneath his tan, his eyes tightly closed, his sensuous lips pressed together as though he were in pain. He looked as though someone had punched him in the stomach.
Katy hesitated; she had never seen him like this. Was he ill? 'Jake.' She whispered his name, although her common sense told her to leave.
His eyes opened, his dark gaze trapped hers, and she was incapable of breaking the contact. He looked as she expected a wounded stag must feel as the hunter's unseen bullet pierced its heart. Uncertainty, sorrow and pain mingled in the brown depths of Jake's thickly lashed eyes. He looked vulnerable as she had never imagined he could.
She took a step towards him, but abruptly drew back as he leapt to his feet, his face contorting into a mask of demonic rage. Vulnerable, Jake? She must be going weak in the head... Katy turned to leave.
A hand on her arm swung her around. Jake, dark eyes flashing fire, pinned her back against the wall, his lower torso thrust against her flat stomach. Katy lashed out at him with both hands, but with insulting ease he caught them and spread her arms wide either side of her head, his strong hands like manacles around her fine-boned wrists.
For a fleeting instant she feared for her life, he was so enraged. And she had mistakenly thought he looked ill, uncertain. What a joke! She saw his mouth working, but no sound came out. 'I—I'm going...' She had delayed too long in leaving. Was he now going to bodily throw her out?
'Shut up, you stupid little bitch.'
She quailed before the force of his anger, and her breast heaved against the soft wool of her sweater; fear and, to her shame, the touch of his muscular thighs, hard against her, were arousing other basic emotions.
'Monica! You dare accuse me of sleeping with your stepmother? Are you mad, woman?'
'No, but you obviously are,' Katy responded, slightly breathless. 'What's the matter, Jake, can't you stomach the fact I've always known about Monica? Makes your high moral garbage about Claude sound pretty stupid,' she said mockingly.
'I have never slept with Monica in my life, not before she married your father, when she was married, or since. If you have dared to suggest such a thing to David or anyone else I will wring your pretty neck.' His brown eyes burnt black with the intensity of his rage. 'When I think of the years I have wasted, and all because you in your childish imagining walked out on me. I could kill you. But not before I make love to you until you're senseless. How could you do that to us?' he demanded with a shake of his dark head, as though the idea was beyond his comprehension. 'How could you think I would stoop so low?'
'How could I?' she screeched. He was a great actor, but she didn't believe one word of his explosive denial. It was far too late in coming. 'I could, Jake, because I saw you with my own eyes. There's no point in your vehement denials. I might have been young but I was never stupid, except where you were concerned. I honestly believed you visited our house to see me. Until the last time when I was eighteen and left school.'
'Explain,' Jake prompted, his body moving restlessly against her.
Katy recognised the signs: his anger was abating, but the black gleam in his brown eyes was no less fierce. Her gaze slid to his mouth, his warm breath caressed her forehead, and she knew if she did not get away fast she would not be able to resist the subtle changes in his body language.
'Let go of my arms,' she requested. 'I can't think when you're towering over me like some great dinosaur.' And, to her surprise, he did.
She took a deep breath to ease the tension. She felt his glance slide to where her breasts pushed taut against the fabric of her sweater, but refused to be intimidated by the knowing smile that quirked his sensuous lips.
'Is that better?' he demanded softly.
It wasn't; although they were no longer touching, his strong hands rested against the wall either side of her head, effectively imprisoning her. His anger had definitely abated, but she had a sneaking suspicion a soft-voiced Jake was a lot more dangerous. She rubbed her hands down her jeans-clad hips in a nervous gesture.
'Get on with it, Katy, and your explanation had better be good or I might still do you an injury,' he threatened.
Katy wished she had kept her mouth shut, but, meeting and holding his gaze, she registered the speculative, almost eager gleam in his eyes, and somehow it gave her confidence.
Quickly she explained her return a day early and what she had seen and heard. As she spo
ke Jake tensed, then stood up straight, his hands falling by his sides.
'All this time... four years you have carried that opinion of me round in your head, because of a conversation you overheard. Our years of friendship you honestly thought were all a lie on my part. An excuse to bed your stepmother. Have I got that right?' he demanded hardily.
'Yes.'
His rapier-like glance raked from her head to toe as though he had never seen her before. 'And of course it never once occurred to you to ask me for an explanation?' he demanded derisively.
'No. Why should I?' she said bluntly, and with a defiant toss of her head she gave it to him straight. 'I heard Monica remind you of your wonderful weekend together when you went skiing and never left the hotel. You were in each other's arms. I might have been young and naive, but there was nothing wrong with my hearing or my eyesight,' she concluded sarcastically.
With a shrug Jake turned and strode across the room. She watched him warily for a moment. There was a defeated look to the stoop of his wide shoulders. He ran a hand distractedly through his black hair, and while his back was turned Katy took a hesitant step towards the still open door, but she must have made some sound because Jake spun round.
'Wait, Katy. I think I can explain.'
'Don't bother,' she muttered mutinously and bent to pick up her suitcase.
'Please, Katy, don't go. Hear me out; surely you owe me that much?'
She stopped, and, straightening up, lifted her head. Jake had moved and was once more standing in front of her, but this time he made no attempt to touch her. She raised suspicious green eyes to his. What was he playing at? Five minutes ago he was threatening to throw her out; now he was actually pleading with her to stay.
She hardened her heart. 'I don't owe you a thing, buster; as far as I'm concerned you have been paid in full,' she stated firmly.
'Please listen,' he demanded urgently. 'I remember that night well. How could I forget it? That was the night I formally asked David for your hand in marriage. We had dined together and naturally Monica was there. Afterwards Monica and I had some business to discuss and your father went to bed.'
'Some business!' Katy snorted derisively.
'I don't know why Monica behaved as she did; perhaps she heard you arrive and wanted to stir up trouble. I've known her a long time, and she has a very twisted sense of humour. I was stunned when she threw her arms around me and started talking about us. I quickly disentangled myself and left about five minutes later.'
'Hmph!' Katy snorted. 'And I suppose next you will tell me you never went on holiday with her.'
'I am telling you the truth, Katy. As for the skiing weekend, Monica came on one of our regular trips to Switzerland—not as my companion, but with a friend of mine from college. When she said we never left the hotel it was because I had broken my leg and she had broken her ankle. I can understand how it must have sounded to you, but it was entirely innocent.'
Katy looked searchingly at his darkly handsome face. Innocent, he said. She doubted if Jake had had an innocent relationship with a woman other than his mother the whole of his life. He was far too virile, much too much a man, and she would have to be fifty kinds of idiot to believe a word he said. Anyway, it was no longer relevant. He had spent the past weeks dragging her all over town, so her dismissal from his life would be very public, and all for some petty vengeance.
'Well, thanks for the explanation, but it was a lifetime ago, Jake. Right now would you mind calling me a taxi, and I'll get out of here?'
'You don't believe me, do you?' He shook his dark head. 'You don't want to believe me...'
'It's not necessary that I believe you-----'
'What the hell would you know what is necessary, with your rigid little mind?' he cut her off sarcastically, and, picking up her other case, he added, 'There is no need for a cab. I'll drive you—it will be quicker.'
Katy did not deign to argue. He was in a hurry to get rid of her, she thought bleakly. So much for his pat explanation! In a very short while he would be out of her life for good. All the arguments and recriminations in the world could not change that fact. Silently she followed him to the car.
They had been travelling for some time, when Katy realised Jake was not taking her to her apartment, and as she looked out of the window, and saw the sign for Heathrow Airport fade away, obviously Paris was not on the agenda either.
'Where are we going?' she blurted. Jake shot her a sidelong glance, his lips twisted in an ironic smile.
'I wondered how long it would take you to break your sullen silence and acknowledge me,' he drawled mockingly.
Acknowledge him? Didn't he realise she was aware of every movement of his lithe body, the muscles rippling in his thighs as his feet operated the pedals, his long fingers lightly clasping the steering-wheel with supreme confidence? It was a constant battle for her to mask just how very much aware of him she was.
'This is not the way to my apartment and we have passed the airport,' she said firmly. 'I want to-----'
'What you want, Katy, is the truth, and if you can bring yourself to humour me for a few hours that is exactly what you're going to get. Now shut up and go to sleep. You look shattered and it will be a while before we arrive at our destination.'
'Adding kidnapping to blackmail, are we?' she drawled, but her words lacked force. The anger that had kept her going for the past couple of hours had seeped away. Katy could feel the pain growing inside her and her eyes ached with unshed tears. Why Jake was prolonging her agony she had no idea. Maybe it was male pride; he refused to let her have the last word. Yet his attempts at justification for his actions were so pathetic as to be laughable.
He glanced across at her, one dark brow arched sardonically. 'Sarcasm does not become you, sweetheart. Do as you're told. Trust me, for once in your life.'
She looked at his hard profile; his attention was once again fixed on the road in front. His earlier anger and the uncertainty she had sensed before was gone. He was all virile, confident male. Trust him, he said! She would as soon trust a rattlesnake. She opened her mouth to demand he take her home, and closed it again.
Inconsequentially she remembered a popular quote in France. The great Maurice Chevalier once said, 'Many a man has fallen in love with a girl in a light so dim he would not have chosen a suit by it.' The- same was true for women, she thought sadly. She loved Jake, and yet there was no good reason for her passion.
Jake had seduced her at eighteen and betrayed her. Blackmailed her at twenty-two. Now he seemed intent on abducting her. Love was certainly blind in her case. If she had any common sense at all she should have had him arrested by now. Instead she sank back in her seat, and closed her eyes, praying her ordeal would soon be over, and she could walk away from him with some remnant of her pride intact.
CHAPTER TEN
A hand on her shoulder woke her from a deep sleep. Katy blinked and opened her eyes. It was dark outside, the glare of the car headlights the only illumination in the black velvet of the night.
Slowly she sat up, blushing as she realised she had been asleep with her head on Jake's shoulder. 'Where are we?' she demanded, smoothing a few loose tendrils of hair back over her head, and pulling her sweater neatly down over her waist.
'You will soon see,' was Jake's enigmatic reply as he got out of the car.
She watched him for a second, but her gaze was distracted as a full moon appeared from behind the clouds, bathing the landscape in a wash of silver. She noted the rolling lawns running down to stop at a band of black leafless skeletal trees outlined against the night sky, and through a small gap a headland, and moonlight on water—the sea. She swung round in the seat, and in a daze stepped out of the car. The place was achingly familiar, but-it couldn't be, she told herself.
Katy breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the cool salt-scented night air. Her green eyes, wide as saucers, roamed over the massive granite structure before her. Elegant stone steps led to a large double oak door that swung open as she
watched, sending out a beam of golden light. She raised her head: over the door a beautiful arched stained-glass window sent a kaleidoscope of colours flickering across the car.
Katy gasped, and took a step forward. It was her old home. The outline of a miner in coloured glass confirmed it. 'Jake, wait!' she cried, running up the steps after him. She grabbed his arm. 'You can't barge in here. My father sold it.'
'Don't panic, Katy; we are expected.' He took her hand in his and tugged it under his arm, forcing her to accompany him into the house.
She cast a frantic glance at the elderly man standing in the entrance hall, and mumbled, 'Good evening.' What was Jake doing? she thought furiously. Was the place a hotel now? God knew, it was big enough. She had a vivid memory of herself as a child, and only having just learned to count, going methodically round the house counting every room and cupboard, the grand total thirty-five.
She blinked back her tears; the hall was just as she remembered, the floor highly polished stripped oak, the elegant staircase with the lovely banister she had slid down many a time in the past. She squeezed her eyes shut as the memories swamped her mind.
In a state of shock, she allowed Jake to lead her into the dining-room, and she sat on the chair he held out for her without a murmur. Even the furniture was the same. The large polished oak dining-table gleamed in the subdued lighting. Obviously it was not a hotel. Greedily she looked around, filling her senses with the house she had always adored. But as she slowly got over the shock of being there so unexpectedly Katy began to notice subtle differences. Whoever owned her old home now had certainly spent a lot of money on it.
A new Chinese silk carpet covered the polished floor; the walls were papered in what looked like a Sanderson silk in rich shades of blue and gold; the drapes at the long windows were also new, the deep Austrian blinds ruffled and trimmed in toning colours adding to the air of old elegance.
Dishonourable Proposal Page 15
