by Helen Brooks
She made herself walk up the steps into the centrally heated confines of the office block, taking the lift to the floor where Thorpe & Sons operated. As she walked through the outer office to reach her smaller one, which led on to her boss’s more spacious domain, one of the girls called to her that Mr Thorpe had left a message to say he’d be back after lunch, should she make it in.
Miriam thanked her, but on reaching her office she closed the door to shut out the low hum of conversation and noise and sat down at her desk without turning on her computer.
Staring ahead, she faced another truth. She had been putting off speaking to Jay’s sister for weeks. She knew Jay wanted her to, although he’d made no mention of it since that first night he had taken her out to dinner. He had spoken of Jayne a few times, saying her morning sickness tended to be all day and she was feeling tired but still thrilled about the baby, but that was all.
Her reason for not contacting Jayne wasn’t altogether that she didn’t want to put Jay’s sister in a difficult position, Miriam admitted silently to herself. The trouble was she liked Jayne very much, loved her even; in the short time she’d known her Jayne had become the sister she’d never had. And that was another thread in the sticky web that had trapped her.
Miriam’s smooth brow wrinkled with self-derision. Was she really such a mess? It would seem so. Suddenly a whole host of hang-ups that had been cluttering up her psyche for years were coming to the forefront. But—Miriam’s eyes narrowed as she looked inward—that still didn’t necessarily mean that Jay hadn’t been having an affair with Belinda…did it?
She twisted restlessly, the doubt that had crept in unnerving. Imagining she’d got it wrong last Christmas, that what she’d seen was Belinda trying to seduce Jay, that he’d been telling the truth all along and Belinda had lied, was nearly as bad as if it was true, she realised with a stab of horror that she could think that way. But it was. Because that would not only mean she had put them both through the worst year in history for nothing, but also that she’d be back to wondering every minute of every day when the moment would be that Jay would grow tired of her and really start an affair with a Belinda lookalike. Because Jay was right. She had been waiting for him to let her down as her father had let her mother down.
Miriam groaned softly, her hands cupping her cheeks as she stared blindly ahead. And that feeling was still there, even though she had brought it into the light. She didn’t trust him. Awful maybe—especially if he hadn’t been playing around with Belinda, which perhaps was a possibility—but that was how she felt. In spite of all the pain and loneliness and grief the last ten months, she’d had something—call it peace of mind or a calm acceptance of fate, she wasn’t sure, but whatever it was it had been a comfort, even in her worst moments.
The telephone rang, making her jump violently. Becoming aware she was sitting at an empty desk and she had a pile of work to do, she quickly lifted the receiver, her voice clipped and professional when she said, ‘Mr Thorpe’s secretary. How can I help you?’
‘I can think of several ways.’ Jay’s voice was smokily amused and her stomach tightened. That was another thing about him, she thought despairingly. He had the most seductive, come-to-bed voice she’d ever heard.
Clearing her throat, she said fairly steadily, ‘Jay? What are you doing phoning me at work? Is anything wrong?’
‘I’m afraid I can’t make it tonight or the next few nights, come to that. A problem’s arisen with a business deal and it means making a trip to Germany. Unavoidable.’
‘That’s all right.’ Her main feeling was one of relief. Since the moment he had walked back into her life there hadn’t been one day she hadn’t seen him and she needed some time to think, time that wouldn’t be complicated by his presence. She was feeling emotionally claustrophobic, hemmed in. He wouldn’t understand that—how could he? She didn’t understand herself any more.
‘All right?’ It was a dry murmur. ‘I’d have preferred a smidgen of disappointment.’
‘You have to do what your business dictates. I’m aware of that,’ she prevaricated.
‘An understanding wife.’ Now the mockery was overt. ‘A rare thing.’
‘If you’ve just phoned to be nasty—’
‘I’ve called to say I’m taking you out to lunch, considering I shan’t be around for a few days. I’ll be waiting outside at one, OK?’
‘I can’t. Really, I can’t. I didn’t get in till a little while ago. Clara wasn’t feeling too well and I stayed with her for a couple of hours this morning. I’ll work through my lunch hour to catch up.’
‘You can work late tonight now you aren’t seeing me.’
‘There are things that won’t wait,’ she said firmly, annoyed by his authoritative tone.
‘Too true, and one of them is me. One o’clock, Miriam, or I’ll come up and get you.’
‘You most certainly will not,’ she almost hissed at him. ‘Who do you think you are anyway?’ Stupid question and, Jay being Jay, he didn’t miss the opportunity to hammer the point home.
‘Your husband?’ he drawled silkily. ‘Remember? One o’clock sharp.’ And the phone went dead.
Great. Just great. Miriam thought about calling him back and then decided against it. There was no point. She had heard the sliver of steel under the silky quality to his voice and it meant he wasn’t going to back down.
She glanced at her watch. Half-past eleven and she hadn’t so much as switched on her computer or looked through the pile of papers awaiting her attention. What was happening to her? She was beginning to fall apart.
This cheery thought provided a dose of adrenaline. Gritting her teeth, she knuckled down to some work, resolutely banishing Jay from her mind. Or attempting to at least.
A few minutes before one o’clock an inner alarm clock rang, and after glancing at her watch Miriam gathered her coat and handbag together, made a quick visit to the ladies’ cloakroom, where she checked her hair and make-up, and then made her way to the foyer of the building. As the lift doors opened she saw Jay immediately. He was sitting in one of the big, plumpy sofas scattered about the reception area, one leg crossed over the other knee and his arms stretched back along the top of the seat. His beautifully tailored suit and silver-gray shirt and tie were of the best quality—naturally—but it was the way they sat on the powerful male body that was breathtaking. And Miriam’s breath did catch, literally, along with a flood of pure, unadulterated sexual desire bringing hot colour to her cheeks.
Jay saw her in the next instant, rising to his feet with a lazy smile. ‘One minute to go,’ he said, his eyes stroking over her face. ‘And then I was coming to find you.’
‘You wouldn’t have,’ she protested reprovingly, her flesh tingling as he took her coat from her arm and helped her on with it before reaching for his own black overcoat, which had been slung on the sofa beside him.
‘Why not?’ Tawny-gold eyes mocked her but his voice held a deep, gritty note when he added, ‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’
She made no comment to this. In the lift she had made up her mind she would be cool and polite this lunchtime, and once he was back from Germany she’d continue along that line until Christmas, when she would reiterate her demand for a divorce. She didn’t want a dramatic finale to all this, tears and recrimination and bitterness. She just wanted to walk away and know some peace again.
You coward, a separate part of her mind said accusingly. It was true what he said, you did run away and you’re still running.
Maybe, she answered silently as Jay took her arm, and anguish, hot and sharp, speared her through. But that was better than returning to how she had felt when she had lived with him. She hadn’t liked the person she’d become then; jealous, watchful, frightened. So self-preservation dictated this relationship had to end, this marriage had to end.
The odd snowflake was still wafting about in the wind as they exited the building and Jay looked up into the leaden grey sky as he said, ‘You can smell the snow
coming. I wouldn’t be surprised if we have a white Christmas.’
How could he mention Christmas so casually? A lump expanded in Miriam’s throat. Swallowing hard, she said, ‘I have to be back at two o’clock, so it’ll have to be a quick lunch.’
‘No problem. I’ve booked a table at a place round the corner as I thought we might be tight on time.’
The place round the corner turned out to be the restaurant of a five-star hotel, where the starters cost as much as a three-course meal anywhere else. They were ushered to a table for two and presented with the menus, and it was then Miriam saw the bottle of champagne nestling in an ice bucket. She raised her eyebrows at Jay, who smiled unrepentantly. ‘I’m not driving today and, as we won’t be seeing each other for a few days, I thought we’d spoil ourselves. It’ll oil the cogs, you’ll see. You’ll get through twice as much work this afternoon.’
She was too worked up to argue, and as the attentive waiter was already filling their glasses she submitted with good grace, although she never normally drank at lunchtime. It was absolutely delicious, though, a hint of strawberries and summer days present in the sparkling bubbles. By the time the waiter returned to take their order Miriam was shocked to find her glass was empty. It was too drinkable, she decided as the waiter refilled her glass. She wouldn’t have any more until she had eaten something.
Once they were alone again, Jay reached across the table and took her cold fingers in his warm hands. ‘I shall miss you,’ he murmured softly. ‘Will you miss me?’
Suddenly she knew she would. Retrieving her fingers under the pretext of fiddling with her linen napkin, which the waiter had placed across her lap after offering her a roll from the basket he’d brought to the table, Miriam smiled coolly. ‘You’re only going away for a day or two,’ she said quietly, busying herself with breaking a morsel from the roll and buttering it.
‘That wasn’t what I asked.’
Miriam popped the bread in her mouth. He was different today, she thought, but she couldn’t put her finger on how. ‘I’ve lots to do for Christmas—cards to write and presents to buy—so I’ll be busy.’
‘That still wasn’t what I asked.’
She stared at him. She loved this man to the core of her being, she thought with frightening intensity. And she wished with all her heart she’d never met him. She had been happy once. Oh, maybe not in the same way she had been happy with Jay; her life had held none of the passion and emotion and sheer joy knowing him had brought. But neither had she experienced the devastation and misery which was the other side of the coin to love.
He was still waiting for an answer. As lightly as she could, she shrugged. ‘Of course I’ll miss you.’
‘You could at least try to pretend you mean that.’
‘What do you want me to say, Jay?’ she said a trifle sharply, hiding her torment under a veneer of irritation. ‘I’ve told you I’ll be busy and it’s not as if we live together; I was used to being on my own before we started seeing each other again.’
He poured himself another glass of champagne and for something to do in the awkward silence Miriam found herself drinking hers. When she put her glass down Jay silently reached across and topped it up before settling back in his seat and surveying her with a brooding gaze. ‘I want you,’ he said quietly, out of the blue. ‘Do you want me? Physically, I mean? Or have I got that wrong as well? Because I’m beginning to think not making love to you over these last weeks wasn’t such a bright idea after all.’
All thoughts of being careful went out of the window and she took another fortifying sip of champagne. She needed the buzz. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked weakly.
‘We were good together,’ he murmured softly. ‘That’s what I mean. I want to touch you and taste you and love you.’
Her heart was thudding and she prayed he couldn’t see her agitation. She could feel his warmth and sensuality reaching out to her as though he was a magnetic force, drawing her to him whether she wanted it or not. ‘We agreed—’
‘To hell with what we agreed. Tell me you don’t want me and I’ll walk away but I don’t believe you stopped loving me, in spite of what you thought I’d done. That’s true, isn’t it? And these last weeks it’s been heaven and hell, having you so close and not loving you properly. You’ve felt it as well, you must have done.’
If he only knew how many endless nights of tossing and turning she’d endured. Miriam cleared her throat. She needed to think; her emotions always took over where Jay was concerned. ‘Why—?’ Her voice cracked and she tried again. ‘Why are you saying this now?’
‘Because I’m leaving for a few days and I don’t want to go without making love to you,’ he said simply. ‘Ring in and say you’re feeling ill and then come upstairs with me to one of the rooms.’
Miriam shivered. He had planned this when he had invited her to lunch. Instead of anger the thought brought instant excitement. Her throat went dry as a throbbing heat invaded her lower stomach. ‘I can’t.’
‘You can.’ The cat-like eyes held hers. ‘It’s easy, so easy. Come upstairs with me.’
‘They—they might not have a room vacant.’ She wondered if he’d already reserved one.
It appeared not. ‘We’ll find out.’
She couldn’t. She couldn’t skive off work to go to a strange hotel room in the middle of the day to make love. It was, well, faintly immoral. ‘But we haven’t any luggage and we’re not staying overnight,’ she whispered tremblingly.
‘They don’t care. A room’s a room and if you pay the going rate for twenty-four hours, it’s no skin off their nose.’ He leaned towards her, his hand stroking the side of her face. ‘Come upstairs with me,’ he said again, his voice husky. ‘Please, Miriam. I need you so much.’
She needed him. She didn’t know whether it was the champagne or just the intoxication of the moment but she was drowning in the flood of desire that was banishing all rational thought. This was crazy, insane, but why shouldn’t she step out of time and have this last memory for all the cold, long days and nights to come? She would never love anyone else, she knew that, and so this would have to last a lifetime.
‘What—what about our food?’ she managed shakily.
Jay grinned. A sexy, enigmatic grin that sent her legs to jelly. ‘Is that a yes?’
The feeling of recklessness was heady. She nodded.
‘Then I’ll take care of it. Wait here.’
She saw him walk across to the head waiter and say something as he extracted his wallet from his jacket, then he was walking back to her, handsome, smiling and superbly confident. For a second the knowledge of what she was going to do intruded into the bubble Jay had induced, but then he had reached her and it was easy to let go of reality and live in the moment.
She stood up and he slid an arm round her waist and together they walked out of the restaurant and into the reception area of the hotel. Jay continued to hold her as he spoke to the receptionist, who was all cool efficiency. The girl didn’t bat an eyelid when Jay signed the register as Mr and Mrs Carter, even though Miriam turned a brilliant shade of pink, her embarrassment not helped when Jay requested a bottle of champagne and a large bowl of strawberries be sent up to their suite. In view of the fact they had no luggage the receptionist handed Jay the key to the room and again Miriam had to admire the girl’s professionalism. She just wished she could have matched her for coolness. As it was she felt like a scarlet woman as they entered the lift, her cheeks burning. ‘She didn’t believe we’re husband and wife,’ she said weakly to Jay as the lift smoothly began to ascend.
He took her in his arms, his fingers tightening in her hair as he tilted her head back and his lips moved over hers. ‘Does it matter?’
No, nothing mattered but this moment. And maybe the girl was right anyway. Maybe she was a wanton hussy. Her hands slid up the muscular wall of his chest and caressed the back of his neck, feeling the soft hair at his shirt collar. He smelt divine, that mixture of aftershave and something th
at was purely Jay. She loved him. She loved him more than life and that was why she couldn’t go back to him. It really didn’t matter any more whether he had slept with Belinda or not; this wasn’t about a particular woman but how she viewed him and women in general. If she went back to him she would end up destroying herself and perhaps him too, if what he had said was the truth and he hadn’t been messing around. But they would have this one afternoon.
She pressed into him, into the hard evidence of his arousal, parting her lips as he deepened the kiss. And one afternoon would have to do.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE suite was beautiful. She had been going to protest when Jay had requested that rather than a double room, but in view of what the receptionist must be thinking already she’d let the moment pass. Nevertheless, a suite for just an hour or so was an incredible indulgence, Miriam thought as she stood in the tastefully decorated sitting room. Beyond this, open sliding doors led to a large bedroom. She could just see the enormous bed and floor-length drapes at the window.
She didn’t have time to notice anything more before Jay drew her into his arms and kissed her again. It was a soft kiss, a slow kiss, one that was giving her time to respond at her own pace. She hadn’t realised she was holding herself so tautly until she began to relax against him, the magic of his mouth working its spell as she floated on a cloud of familiar sexual excitement. Jay had been a generous and experienced lover and she had missed his erotic, sometimes tender, sometimes urgent lovemaking more than she had dreamed possible.
She loved him and she would never stop loving him, no matter what he did. That in itself was terrifying. For a moment she tensed again but she couldn’t resist what his mouth and hands were doing to her and suddenly she was hungry for all of him.
She sighed softly as desire flowed like hot melted honey into every part of her, enveloping her in sensual bliss. The first time he had ever kissed her she had wanted the moment to go on forever, amazed that a kiss could be so phenomenally sweet, and once they had married she knew he’d spoiled her for any other man, having awakened her to levels of ecstasy she’d never imagined in her wildest fantasies.
