Lovestorm (Harlequin Treasury 1990's)

by Jennifer Taylor

  Helen’s face flamed, her voice drying up so that she was unable to find anything to say apart from a meaningless murmur which seemed to be enough. When Margaret Hunt moved away to speak to one of the few guests, she glanced up at Jacob and went cold at the cynical light in his eyes.

  ‘You must forgive my mother, Helen. Obviously she sees me in a very different light from yours.’ Jacob took her arm, steering her through the guests towards the door, pausing several times to accept the congratulations showered upon them. Helen said nothing, afraid that anything she did say might be wrong. Didn’t these people know what Jacob was really like? Apparently not, because there was genuine warmth in the smiles they gave him, sincerity in the oft-repeated phrases. It was only when they drew level with her father that Helen dared to speak.

  ‘Father, are you all right? Not getting too tired, I hope?’

  Edward Sinclair smiled. ‘How can attending my own daughter’s wedding be tiring? I’m just so delighted to see you settled at last, darling.’ He bent forward to kiss Helen’s cheek, then turned to Jacob and held his hand out, ‘Just promise me that you will always look after her, Jacob. She is very precious to me.’

  Jacob took the elderly man’s hand and shook it, his gaze dropping to Helen standing silently beside him. ‘That won’t be a difficult promise to keep. She’s very precious to me also.’

  His eyes held Helen’s as he spoke the words in a voice which held a note that made the blood suddenly rush to her head. Helen stared back at him, unable to look away from the brilliant blue gaze, then drew a shuddery little breath as she slowly dropped her eyes and called herself every kind of a fool. Of course she was ‘precious’ to Jacob; he had gone to extraordinary lengths to manoeuvre her into this sham of a marriage! Yet for one crazy moment just now she had almost wished he had meant something very different—but why? Why should she want Jacob to feel anything for her? It didn’t make any kind of sense!

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I’m sorry to hurry you but there is another party waiting to be married. If you would all please move out into the hallway.’ The registrar bustled about, chivvying everyone out before nodding to the young couple waiting outside. Helen watched them go into the room, their faces alight with love as they glanced at each other. It just served to emphasise what a mockery her marriage to Jacob was. They were husband and wife now, supposedly starting out on a new life together, but what sort of a life would it be based on beginnings like these?

  The thought lingered all through the elegant lunch Jacob had arranged at one of London’s top restaurants. Helen responded automatically to the attempts to draw her into the conversation. It was only when Jacob touched her hand and spoke quietly in her ear that she shrugged the unease aside, only to find it replaced with another.

  ‘I think we had better leave now, Helen. We don’t want to be late.’ Jacob took her arm and helped her from the table, leading her quickly out of the restaurant to where he had left his car. He stopped on the pavement, his fingers fastening around hers as though he feared some sort of resistance from her as he turned to reply to some laughing remark one of the wedding party made.

  Helen barely heard what was said, her body a mass of nerves as she watched Jacob unlock the car door to urge her to get in. She stood still, staring up at him with wide eyes.

  ‘Go where? What are we going to be late for?’

  ‘Our flight.’ He smiled as he held the door wider. ‘Isn’t it traditional for the groom to keep the honeymoon destination a secret as a surprise? But now I can tell you that we are catching a flight to Nassau in—oh—’ he glanced at his watch then looked back at her ‘—approximately one hour’s time.’

  ‘Honeymoon!’ Her voice rose and she bit her lip. Jacob had made no mention of any honeymoon. If he had, then she would have told him in no uncertain terms that she had no intention of going on one!

  ‘Of course. It’s what most newly married couples do, my sweet—take a holiday together before they settle down to the humdrum of everyday life.’

  He was mocking her, yet even knowing it couldn’t stop her from snapping back, ‘We are not most couples, Jacob! Just as this marriage isn’t like most marriages. So let me make this clear that I am not going on any—’

  ‘Helen? There’s nothing wrong is there, darling?’ Edward Sinclair’s concern was evident as he came up to them. Helen bit back a groan, wishing that her father were a million miles away right then. The last thing she wanted was for him to start worrying again.

  ‘Of course not. Jacob and I were just—just sorting something out,’ she finished lamely.

  ‘What?’ The elderly man glanced round at the group of guests waiting to wave them off. ‘For a moment there I could have sworn you and Jacob were quarrelling, but I hope you weren’t, not on your wedding-day?’

  Jacob laughed, totally at ease, it seemed. Did nothing ever throw him? Helen thought bitterly, then forgot the rest of the thought when she heard what he said.

  ‘I’m afraid we were, Edward. Well, perhaps not exactly quarrelling, eh, darling? More discussing a point.’ He slid his arm around Helen’s shoulders and drew her to him, pressing a kiss to her temple. Helen gave him a malevolent stare, but he merely raised a mocking brow as his arm fastened a shade tighter around her, drawing her closer against the hard warmth of his body in a gesture which must have looked loving to anyone watching.

  Edward Sinclair laughed softly, not missing the small gesture. ‘I know exactly how Helen discusses things, so you have my heartfelt sympathy.’

  ‘Father!’ Helen stared at her father in part annoyance and part surprise, and heard him chuckle.

  ‘Darling, I’ve known you all your life and I know just how pig-headed you can be when you get an idea into your head. It’s all credit to Jacob that he can be so diplomatic about it. Now tell me what the problem is and let me see if I can help.’

  ‘Well, I...’ Her head was reeling from the double onslaught. That her father should side with Jacob against her...

  ‘The problem is you, I’m afraid, sir.’ Jacob’s voice was bland, belying the increasing pressure of his fingers on her shoulder, a silent warning that Helen wasn’t to disagree with him.

  ‘Me? I’m afraid I don’t understand.’ There was a stiff note in the elderly man’s voice now and Jacob smiled, not slow to notice it.

  ‘I was just telling Helen about our honeymoon. I’ve kept it for a surprise up until now, but perhaps I shouldn’t have done.’ Jacob shrugged faintly. ‘However, what I haven’t yet had time to tell her is that you will be well cared for while we are away.’ He turned to Helen and smiled tenderly at her in a way which made her temper rise at once by being so blantantly false. ‘You see, darling, I realised how worried you would be about your father, so I have arranged for him to stay at the house while we are away.’

  ‘So that’s what it is all about?’ Edward Sinclair shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Helen, but Jacob did swear me to secrecy. He wanted your honeymoon to be a surprise, you see. But you mustn’t worry about me because I shall be fine. Baxter will take good care of me. In fact, I’m really looking forward to it. So off you go, and don’t give another thought to how I am.’ He patted Helen’s arm, obviously relieved that the problem had been resolved so easily.

  Helen took a deep breath and counted to ten, but it did little to cool her temper. Once again, Jacob had covered every eventuality, made his plans and carefully set them in motion. But if he imagined that he could continue to manoeuvre her in the direction he chose, he could think again!

  Without a word she got into a car, waiting silently while Jacob walked around to climb behind the wheel. He cast her an amused glance, his mouth quirking slightly at the mutinous set of her face. ‘Smile, Helen. We don’t want people thinking that you aren’t looking forward to our new life together, do we?’

  Helen pinned an artificially bright smile to her lips and waved to the group, then let the smile fade abruptly the very instant they were out of sight. She turned to Jacob, her eyes sto
rmy, her pale skin faintly flushed. ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Jacob Hunt? You think you can push people into always doing what you want!’

  ‘What’s the problem, Helen? Why should it make a difference where we spend the first few weeks of our married life?’ He smiled as he turned the car down a side street, slowing as he eased between the double rows of parked cars. ‘London or the Bahamas—it makes no difference to how you feel about me, surely?’

  ‘Of course not! Wherever we are I shall still hate you, Jacob!’

  He shrugged faintly, stopping as the traffic lights turned red, then cast her a slow glance which held a certain watchfulness. ‘Then why are you so upset about the thought of this honeymoon?’ He laughed softly, the sound rippling around the car, dark and strangely disturbing. It seemed to run along her nerves, making her whole body throb in response to the velvet note, setting up a chain reaction of sensations. ‘Are you afraid that your hatred might melt a little in the heat of a tropical sun, that it might not be so easy to remember why you dislike me, my sweet?’

  ‘I—no! I’ve already told you it doesn’t matter where we are. It won’t change how I feel about you!’ Her heart was pounding, her breathing rapid and shallow. It was the sound of that deep laugh, that haunting, evocative quality which awoke memories inside her she’d almost forgotten. It took her back in time to when she had first met Jacob. He had always stayed on the fringes of the group she was friends with, yet whenever he was around she had always been deeply aware of him. He would laugh and her whole body would pulse with it, her heart picking up its beat. She had forgotten how she’d felt and now it shocked her to feel the same crazy reaction.

  ‘Then, as I said, there isn’t really a problem.’ Jacob slid the car into gear as the lights changed. ‘It’s all arranged and I am afraid that it’s impossible to change my plans now. There’s some business I need to attend to while we are there, so this trip will serve a dual purpose.’

  ‘All arranged?’ She laughed scornfully. ‘And what about the small matter of clothes. What am I expected to wear while we’re away on the island?’

  Jacob returned the smile with one of his own, his eyes lingering for a moment on the slender curves of her body before he turned his attention back to the road ahead. ‘Frankly, darling, it wouldn’t matter to me what you wore; the least amount possible, in fact.’ He ignored her gasp of outrage as he continued, ‘However, I knew that you wouldn’t feel quite the same way about it so I had Baxter’s wife pack you a case. If there’s anything else you need then it will be a simple enough matter to buy it there.’

  Helen sank back in the seat, unable to decide which angered her most, that deliberately taunting look Jacob had given her just now or his high-handedness in making the arrangements without bothering to consult her first. Yet deep down she was forced to admit that neither of those things was what bothered her most about this unexpected trip. As Jacob had said, it shouldn’t have mattered where they spent the first weeks of their married life, but the thought of a honeymoon disturbed her more than she cared to admit by its very suggestion of shared intimacy. That was something that she and Jacob had never discussed and now she wished she’d made her feelings clear. No matter how real Jacob intended this marriage to appear, there were certain aspects that she had no intention of agreeing to. She might have agreed to share Jacob’s life for however long it took to pay him back, but she would be damned if she would agree to share his bed!

  * * *

  After the misty chill of London, Nassau sweltered under a tropical sun.

  Helen followed Jacob from the airport to the car which was waiting to collect them, unfastening the top button of her jacket as the heat hit her. She felt stifled in the elegant wool suit in this climate, although back in London it had barely been warm enough. Now as she flicked the button open and ran a hand down her throat she could feel the dampness of her hot skin.

  ‘We’ll soon be at the house. I’m sure you will be glad to get changed into something more suitable.’ Jacob held the rear door of the car open for her, looking cool and comfortable in his own equally formal clothing. How typical that as usual he should look perfectly at ease!

  ‘If you had given me a little more warning then I could have arranged to change before we flew out here, then I wouldn’t be feeling quite so uncomfortable,’ she snapped irritably.

  Jacob slid his hand under her elbow to help her into the car, his fingers lingering just a moment longer than was strictly necessary. ‘And if I had, then wouldn’t you have found any number of excuses not to come?’ He laughed softly, his eyes filled with amusement. ‘Heaven knows you tried your best to think up a few before!’

  Helen wrenched her arm away from his hold, sliding into the car before turning to glare at him as he got in beside her. ‘I don’t like surprises, especially not those thought up for devious purposes.’

  ‘Devious?’ He settled back in the seat, spreading his long legs as best he could in the confined space. His knee brushed against hers and Helen drew away at once from the light contact, then inwardly cursed herself for the betraying reaction when she saw his smile deepen in acknowledgement. She looked away, wondering why she always felt so ridiculously aware of Jacob. As a very attractive woman, she had never lacked for male attention, yet Jacob seemed to make all other men pale by comparison. Despite the sophisticated veneer he had acquired through his wealth, there was an innate toughness about him and something inside her responded to it.

  ‘Why should it be devious to want to take my new bride away on honeymoon? What do you imagine I have planned, Helen?’

  Helen pushed the strangely disquieting thoughts aside as she stared out of the window as the driver turned the car on to the road heading towards the town. ‘I have no idea, but, knowing you, Jacob, there’s bound to be something at the back of all this.’

  ‘You really do have a low opinion of me, don’t you, sweet? I shall have to try to alter that while we are here.’

  There was a note in his deep voice which made alarm skitter through her and she shot him a wary glance. He arched one dark brow, obviously perfectly aware of how she felt. Helen flushed, her eyes warring with his before she turned back to the window, barely noticing the small houses they were passing, washed in pastel tones of pink and green. She must be more careful what she said, must try to keep a rein on her tongue. The last thing she wanted was for Jacob to start thinking she was issuing challenges to him!

  ‘To set your mind at rest, Helen, I have nothing planned other than a holiday where we can hopefully get to know each other better.’

  ‘Better?’ She turned to smile at him, all thoughts of caution forgotten in the face of that bland yet totally ridiculous statement. ‘I don’t think that’s possible, Jacob. I imagine I know you better than an awful lot of people do—know the real you that is not that charming mask you hide behind so well!’

  ‘And it has never occurred to you that it might be you who are mistaken about me, Helen? That other people see me for what I am while you see me through eyes tainted with bitterness?’

  ‘No. I’m not mistaken. I better than anyone know what you’re capable of, Jacob.’

  ‘Do you?’ He sighed as he leant back against the seat, his face suddenly weary. ‘I wonder how you formed those views, Helen. Were they all yours, or did someone else plant the idea in your head and you merely nurtured it?’

  ‘I have no idea what you mean. Who could possibly have planted anything in my head?’ She stared at him in open confusion, and saw him grimace.

  ‘Your mother. You said once that you had known me for years, yet that wasn’t quite true, was it? I was seventeen when we first met and just twenty when I left the village. And in between your mother made sure that I knew my place and didn’t get too familiar with you. Do you remember that time I called round with your bag, Helen?’ He laughed harshly. ‘I’m sure you must!’

  Helen flushed, remembering all too clearly what he was referring to. She had called in at the library on
her way home one day and left her bag behind. Jacob had found it and taken it round to her house to return it to her. It had been Baxter’s day off and her mother had answered the door to him herself. Patricia Sinclair had spoken to him with undisguised contempt, not deigning to ask him inside but leaving him standing outside on the step.

  Helen could still recall her embarrassment when her mother had called up the stairs to tell her that Jacob was there, not bothering to lower her voice as she had curtly ordered Helen to get rid of him at once as she didn’t want the likes of Jacob Hunt around.

  Jacob had handed Helen her bag without a word, his expression freezing her halting attempts at an apology. He had left the village shortly after that, returning infrequently to visit his mother until she too had moved, although surprisingly Jacob had bought the small cottage where they had both lived, using it for odd weekends.

  ‘My—my mother had very set views about things, Jacob. Perhaps she was a bit abrupt that day.’

  ‘Not to mention all the other days.’ He must have seen her start of surprise because he laughed. ‘That wasn’t the first time I called around to speak to you, Helen. I had called before but always met with a totally negative response, the same as every time I telephoned you.’

  ‘You telephoned me? But...’ She broke off, watching the cynical tilt of his mouth as he looked back at her.

  ‘Now I suppose you’re going to claim that you had no idea that I’d ever phoned, that no one ever told you about the messages I left?’

  ‘But I didn’t.’ Without realising what she was doing, Helen laid her hand on his arm, her eyes enormous with shock. ‘If you ever left a message for me then I never got it, Jacob. Believe me!’

  He glanced down at her hand then slowly caught it with his own, smoothing his thumb over the delicate length of her fingers. ‘I am almost tempted to believe you, Helen. Heaven knows, I tried to convince myself enough times all those years ago that was the case!’