Home, thought Jo. 'Why, Rufus?'
'We're expecting a few deliveries in the next couple of weeks—furniture and so on. It would be easier if you were on hand when they arrive.'
She eyed him curiously. 'What did you do before?'
'Suffered a great deal of inconvenience.' Rufus shrugged. 'But if you feel you can't work there—'
'I can work anywhere,' she assured him. 'The muse deserts me over mental pressure, not change of location. But you'll have to fetch my word processor from Bruton Road.'
'Done,' he said promptly. 'Shall I shower first or do you want your usual wallow now?'
'You go first,' she said absently, then smiled up at him, surprising an odd look in the ink-dark eyes which so rarely betrayed his feelings. 'What's the matter?'
'Nothing,' he said expressionlessly. 'Nothing at all.'
The evening was a pleasant change from the frantic activity of the days preceding it. They ate lobster salad, followed by tarte tatin, and Rufus finally opened the bottle of champagne that Jo had refused on their first day in preference to tea.
Curled up on the sofa, relaxed with good food, Jo accepted a glass of the pale, bubbling wine, and Rufus sat beside her to watch the film, which was a light romantic comedy perfectly in tune with her mood.
'Though I usually prefer dark, atmospheric thrillers,' she told him as the opening credits rolled. 'I love going to the cinema. But this is the next best thing.'
'I haven't been to the cinema in years,' he remarked. 'I'll take you to the Regal when we get back, if you like.'
Jo nodded enthusiastically. 'Yes, please! '
Silence fell between them as they watched the film, which was light and unusually witty but towards the end leaned towards bedroom scenes rather more than Jo would have liked. She sipped at her champagne, growing tenser by the minute, wishing she had the strength of mind to suggest they watched something less erotic. It was a great relief when the film was over at last.
'Not bad,' commented Rufus, and refilled her glass.
'The fairy-tale ending was a bit contrived, I thought,' said Jo casually.
'Good for box office, I suppose. People like fairytale endings.' Rufus stared down into his glass. 'They don't happen often enough in real life.'
How true, thought Jo forlornly. She got to her feet, and to her dismay found she wasn't in entire control of them. 'I think I'll go to bed.'
Rufus got up, his eyes gleaming with amusement. 'Are you by any chance unsteady on your pins, Mrs Grierson?'
'Yes,' she said sheepishly. 'I think I am.'
'You were so hot under the collar over the love scenes you drank two glasses of champagne,' he said, grinning.
'Did I? Two?' She giggled. 'In that case you'd better give me a hand to the bathroom.'
Rufus complied, laughing as he guided her weaving feet across the room. 'Can you manage?'
'I hope so!'
When she emerged from the bathroom some time later Rufus was waiting outside the door for her. 'All right?' he asked.
'Perfectly.' She eyed the distance to the bed doubtfully, and Rufus chuckled and picked her up.
'Allow me!' He carried her to the bed, laying her down on it with exaggerated care. 'A good thing you didn't dress for dinner tonight.'
'It's only my legs which let me down,' she assured him, settling back against the pillows. 'The rest of me seems much the same as usual.'
Rufus sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at her. 'So how are you, Jocasta Grierson? The honeymoon's almost over and you've survived very well from where I'm sitting. Do you agree? Or have you been pining for your attic all along?'
'No,' she assured him. 'I've enjoyed it all immensely. It's my first experience of a hotel like this.'
'It won't be your last, Jo,' he promised softly, and leaned over her, a hand either side of her on the bed.
Jo gazed up into his face, fascinated as she saw the pupils of his eyes widen to engulf the dark iris. They lay there motionless, eyes locked as Rufus hung over her, balanced on his hands, then suddenly his eyelids came down like shutters and he stretched out beside her, burying his face in her hair as he took her in his arms.
'I so badly want to hold you like this,' he said, his voice muffled against her hair. 'I really thought I could do it, you know.'
'Do what?' she whispered, her heart beating thickly.
'Share a room with you and keep my distance.' He raised his head suddenly to look down into her heavy eyes. 'Can you believe that I just want to sleep with you, Jo?'
To her infinite regret Jo knew that Rufus meant what he said. There was no hint of sexual persuasion in his embrace. She sighed. 'Get in, then.'
He stared at her in disbelief. 'You mean that?'
'Yes.'
'If I turn out all the lights and do the usual nighttime things in the bathroom, will you have changed your mind by the time I come back?' he demanded.
'No.' She smiled at him. 'But if you don't hurry it up I'll be asleep.'
Within a remarkably short time Rufus slid into bed beside her, teeth brushed, newly shaved, clad in the pyjama trousers worn, she suspected, out of deference to his new room-mate.
'Do you always wear pyjamas?' she asked as he stretched out beside her with a sigh.
'No. I bought three new pairs just for the occasion. Tonight I'm wearing tasteful navy blue.'
She giggled. 'And I'm in tasteful pink—suitable for a blushing bride.'
'You're just the slightest bit stoned, aren't you?' he said, amused. 'For which I'm very grateful.'
'Why?' she asked, yawning.
'If you weren't I'd hardly be here in your bed, would I?'
In no mood for debate Jo burrowed deep into the pillow with a sigh, her heart giving a sudden thump when an arm encircled her waist and drew her close. For a moment she lay tense, then relaxed, and, instead of lying awake as she fully expected, fell asleep very quickly in the warmth of her husband's embrace.
Jo woke in the night to visit the bathroom, and afterwards, half-asleep, slid back into the warm bed, straight into arms outstretched in welcome to receive her. Instantly Jo found herself wide awake, aware in every fibre of the hard male body against her own. Her pulse quickened and she raised her head to find her mouth only a hair's breadth from her husband's.
Rufus breathed in sharply, then lowered his head until their lips met. He kissed her mouth, her eyelids, returning to her mouth in between attention to her cheekbones and her earlobes, his hands moving over her in caresses so subtle and cajoling that she felt as though her bones were melting.
She knew he was holding himself on a tight rein while he sought to undermine her non-existent defences, but their kisses quickly grew wilder, their breathing ragged, until Jo could no longer control little choked sounds of response as his caressing fingers touched off sparks of flame which ran along her veins and set her body on fire. He hung over her, his eyes glittering down into hers with a question she answered with an involuntary thrust of her hips against his aroused body, and with a smothered sound he took possession of her with a fiery tenderness, making love to her gently at first, then not gently at all as the rhythm of their loving became faster and fiercer until fulfilment overwhelmed them simultaneously, teaching them that their first time together had been no fluke of never-to-be repeated rapture.
Jo woke to daylight, and muted voices in the other room, and sat up groggily, her face hot as the events of the night came rushing back.
'Good morning,' said Rufus, strolling into the bedroom, wearing his dressing gown. 'Breakfast is served. I wish I'd asked for it later—you could have slept on for a while.'
'Good morning,' muttered Jo, clutching the covers to her chest. 'What time is it?'
'Eight-thirty.' Rufus sat on the edge of the bed and detached one of her hands, holding it in his as he looked at her. 'Are you all right, Jo?'
Unwillingly she met his eyes. 'Yes, Rufus. A bit embarrassed, but I'm fine.'
His face relaxed a little. 'Honest, as always. I wo
ndered if the champagne had something to do with your lack of resistance in the night.'
Surely he knew why she'd responded so joyously? 'Thank you for providing excuses,' she said drily. 'But that had worn off by three in the morning, Rufus. What's the matter?' she added. 'You look worried.'
'It didn't strike ine until I woke up this morning— with you in my arms, incidentally—that I forgot about the baby.'
Jo sat suddenly motionless, her face drained of expression. 'Ah, yes, the baby. The reason why we are here in this extraordinary situation in the first place.' She shrugged. 'All seems to be well, I think.' Her eyes glittered coldly to cover her hurt. 'But since you're so concerned for the safety of your child I suggest we keep firmly to our own beds in future.'
She slid out of bed, ignored the nightgown on the floor, and made for the bathroom without haste, well aware that her husband's eyes were riveted to her nude, slender back until she closed the door behind her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Traffic was too heavy for much conversation on the journey out of London, for which Jo was profoundly grateful. All through breakfast she'd kept up a steady flow of small talk over the morning papers, and Rufus, after one or two firmly rebuffed attempts to turn the conversation to more personal matters, responded with cool courtesy, other than remonstrating with her for eating nothing. With a bright smile she blamed a slight hangover for her lack of appetite, told him never to mention lobster and champagne in her hearing again, and went off to pack.
Jo felt so miserable as they headed down the motorway that she apologised politely for her poor company, and announced she'd try and doze a little. After which Rufus drove in complete silence until they were on the outskirts of Pennington, when he touched her hand, telling her they were almost home.
'You look very pale,' he said, frowning, as they drew up outside the house in Beaufort Crescent.
'I do feel a bit seedy,' she admitted. 'I shouldn't have let myself doze. I always feel worse afterwards.'
Rufus unlocked the front door, then picked her up. 'It's tradition to carry the bride over the threshold,'he said tersely as she stared at him in surprise. 'But in this case I think it's very necessary. You look ghastly, Jo.'
One look in her dressing-table mirror proved he was right when Rufus, panting slightly, set her on her feet in her new bedroom. 'If you don't mind I think I'll try out my beautiful new bed,' she said, and sat down abruptly on the edge of it.
Rufus looked down at her, frowning again, then slid off her shoes and unbuttoned the jacket of the new suit he'd bought for her only the day before. Dismayed to find she lacked the energy to help, Jo made no protest as he removed her silk shirt and the crimson wool skirt.
'Can you manage the rest yourself?' he asked, a pulse throbbing at the corner of his mouth.
Jo nodded dumbly.
Rufus strode to the door. 'I'll come back in a minute and see how you are. I'll make some tea.'
'Thank you,' she whispered, feeling worse by the minute.
Jo's fingers were like a set of ten thumbs as she took off her underwear, then slid naked under the brand-new lace-edged covers, desperate to lie down. If this was morning sickness, she thought irritably, its timing was a bit out. She looked up as Rufus came into the room with her suitcases.
'Could you fish out my dressing gown and a nightdress, please?' she asked him. "They're in the smaller one.'
Rufus complied in silence. 'Can you manage?' he said shortly.
Jo shook her head unhappily. 'Sorry to be so feeble, but I don't think I can. I feel giddy—and I need to go to the bathroom.'
Rufus sat her upright, slid a nightgown over her head, then helped her out of the bed. Jo leaned against him for support, feeling sweat break out on her forehead. Without a word Rufus picked her up, carried her to the bathroom, waited outside for as long as necessary, then carried her back to the bed and laid her against the pillows.
'Sorry to be a nuisance,' she said, with an effort. 'I'll try not to make it a habit.'
He drew the covers over her, looking grim. 'Lie still. I'll bring you some tea.'
'Thank you.'
Jo lay very still indeed, so afraid to move that she breathed shallowly, dismayed to feel her whole body dewed with perspiration. Then pain struck, low in her stomach, and she groaned and sank her teeth into her bottom lip, panting.
'Jo—what is it?' said Rufus in consternation as he came into the room. He dumped the tray on the dressing table and crossed the room in a couple of strides.
'Pain,' gasped Jo, and waved a hand at her stomach. 'Feel sick. Help me—sit—up.'
When Rufus manoeuvred her gingerly to a sitting position, Jo promptly fainted dead away in his arms. She regained consciousness to the sound of his frantic voice calling her name, and tried to smile up into his haggard face.
'Pain in my stomach,' she got out with difficulty. 'I feel sick too.' Her eyes widened as pure agony clutched her like a vice.
Rufus laid her back with shaking hands and snatched at the telephone on the bedside table. 'I'll call the doctor!'
Dimly, through waves of sheer pain, she heard Rufus explaining that his wife was about six weeks pregnant and in great pain, then he rang off and dialled again, this time for an ambulance.
'Ambulance? Rufus, I don't need—-' Then more agony cut off her protests and Jo was engulfed in a nightmare of pain which seemed to last for an unbearably long time until the doctor arrived, followed a minute or two later by two paramedics in green uniforms. Rufus helped her answer several personal questions while she was secured to a stretcher and carried down to a waiting ambulance, where a drip was attached to her arm with despatch.
'Am I losing the baby?' she gasped, and turned imploring eyes on Rufus, who held her free hand tightly and soothed her in a steady, reassuring voice which belied the look in his eyes as the ambulance sped to Pennington General with blue lights flashing. By the time they arrived the pain was so intense that everything was a blur as Jo was delivered to a team ready and alerted for her arrival, and the last thing she saw was Rufus' haggard white face before the prick of a needle sent her deep into blessed oblivion.
Jo opened her eyes to a small, pretty room, and wondered for a hazy moment if she was in a hotel again. She tried to move a hand and found it was attached to a tube which was dripping blood into her veins. Not a hotel, then.
She closed her eyes again for a minute, then tried to move her other hand with no success. With infinite care she turned her head on the pillow and to her surprise found Rufus asleep in a chair beside the bed, his hand grasping hers so tightly that not even sleep had relaxed it.
Jo looked at him dispassionately. He looked terrible. The olive tint of his skin looked yellowish above the white of his rather creased shirt, and he needed a shave. And had his hair looked quite so silvery when she saw him last? Jo thought for a moment. When had she seen him last? She tried to move and winced.
The discomfort in her stomach brought recollection back in an unwelcome tidal wave, and she closed her eyes to hold back tears which leaked beneath her lashes and slid down her face. She'd lost the baby, obviously. Such a silly way to put it—as though she'd been careless.
'Jo?' said Rufus quietly, and she opened her eyes to the raw pain in his as he leaned forward to look down into her face. 'How do you feel?' He mopped gently at her tears with a tissue.
'Sore,' she croaked.
He nodded, his mouth twisting. 'As well you might.' He looked round as a nurse came into the room.
'Hello, Mrs Grierson,' she said briskly. 'Let me check up on you. Would you like some water?'
Jo nodded, and the nurse propped her up a little on her pillows and held a beaker with a straw to her mouth. Jo swallowed the cool liquid gratefully, and would have liked more, but the nurse shook her head, smiling.
'No more for a while. I'll come back shortly.'
'What time is it?' asked Jo hoarsely, when they were alone.
Rufus looked at his watch. 'Just after ten p.m.'
'When did I get in here?'
'About one. You were operated on immediately, then you were in a recovery room for a while, and this evening they moved you in here.' Rufus ran a hand over his chin. 'Sorry about the stubble. I haven't been home yet.'
Jo looked at him. 'No dinner?'
'No.' He smiled bleakly. 'I wasn't hungry.'
She tried to smile back, but tears welled in her eyes instead. Rufus wiped them away again, and she looked at him forlornly.
'I had a miscarriage?'
'No.' His hand tightened on hers. 'Yours was an ectopic pregnancy, Jo. The fertilised egg stuck in the Fallopian tube, which ruptured.'
Her pale face whitened alarmingly, and he grasped her hand in alarm. 'What did they do to me?' she said wildly.
'They saved your life,' said Rufus, breathing in unsteadily. 'I know the gynaecologist who performed the operation, as it happens. He told me we were very lucky the rupture waited until we arrived back from London.'
'Lucky!' she repeated bitterly. 'Unlucky for you, Rufus. I know how much you wanted the baby.'
'I wanted you alive a hell of a sight more,' he said harshly.
Jo's eyes widened. 'You mean I could have died?'
'You were bleeding profusely into your abdomen. If things hadn't moved so swiftly—' He thrust a hand through his hair, looking ill.
'Go home and get some sleep, Rufus,' she said, mustering as firm a voice as she could. 'I'm obviously fine now—isn't that right, Nurse?' she asked as the woman came back into the room. 'I've just been telling my husband to go home to bed.'
'Good idea. Don't worry, Mr Grierson, we'll look after your wife. I'll sit with her tonight, so you get off to bed and come back in the morning. She'll look like a different person by then, I promise.' The nurse smiled at Rufus, who got up reluctantly.
'I suppose you're right. But I'll stay if you want me to,' he said to Jo.
'No. Eat something and get some rest.' She tried to smile. 'Would you ring my mother?'
'I already have. She'll be here tomorrow.' Rufus hesitated, then bent and kissed Jo's dry hps. 'Goodnight. I'll see you in the morning.'
The Second Bride Page 10
