‘I fell a bit behind with maintenance for Maisie. That should cover what I owe.’
Jenna stared at the cheque and felt the cold hand of fear close around her heart. Lee meant business, she realised sickly. He intended to fight for custody of Maisie and his first step was to prove that he was a caring and responsible father.
‘I’ll fight you all the way,’ she warned her ex-husband bitterly. ‘If you want to see Maisie and build a proper relationship with her, that’s fine. I would never prevent her from seeing her father. But you are not going to use her as bargaining counter in order to gain a rich wife.’
Lee had the grace to look shamefaced for all of two seconds. ‘As they say in the movies, I’ll see you in court,’ he said confidently, and as he walked towards the door he stepped on her foot.
‘Ow! Careful.’ Jenna winced and Lee glanced down, then deliberately ground his boot into her bare foot. ‘Lee, you’re hurting me.’
‘Oops! Sorry! Silly Daddy trod on Mummy’s foot,’ he said, with a laugh for Maisie’s benefit, and Jenna blinked back tears of real pain.
‘You bastard,’ she whispered. ‘Try any more tricks like that and I’ll report you for assault.’
Lee’s good-looking face split into a grin as he sauntered out of the door. ‘It was an accident, baby. I’d like to see you prove otherwise.’
The following week Jenna’s foot was still black, and she hobbled into work, cursing Lee and his spite. But she forgot her problems for a moment when she discovered Margaret in tears.
‘It’s John,’ Margaret confided as she mopped her eyes. ‘His condition is deteriorating and I don’t know if I can manage like this for much longer. Yesterday he heated up a can of soup in the microwave, and of course it exploded everywhere. While I was clearing up the mess he slipped out of the back door and was found wandering along the high street wearing his pyjamas.’
‘I thought he was attending a day center?’ Jenna murmured sympathetically.
‘He does go on weekdays, while I’m at work, but it’s up to me to look after him in the evenings and weekends, and now Alex has asked me to go to Yorkshire with him.’
‘Well, I’ll go instead. I thought that was one of my duties anyway.’
‘You and Alex don’t seem to be getting on very well at the moment,’ Margaret explained. ‘The date for Alex’s client’s court appearance was changed at the last minute, and I offered to travel up to York with him.’
‘Leave it with me,’ Jenna said briskly, and made a hurried phone call to her neighbour Nora, to ask if she could care for Maisie for the night. ‘It’s an emergency,’ she explained to Nora. ‘I know Maisie will be happy staying with you, but I’m worried about Lee finding out. He’ll be sure to accuse me of abandoning her.’
‘Don’t worry about that little toad; if he comes here he’ll get short shrift from me,’ Nora replied stoutly. ‘You’re an excellent mother, Jenna, but Lee always did knock your confidence. It’s about time you stood up to him.’
Alex was already waiting in the car, Margaret told her, but as Jenna approached the Bentley she was surprised to see him sitting in the driver’s seat, rather than his chauffeur.
‘Barton has the flu, so I’m driving,’ he explained. ‘I’d actually intended to fly, but the weather reports for the north are atrocious. Where’s Margaret?’
Swiftly Jenna detailed the reason for the change of plan and Alex studied her in silence for a moment. ‘You don’t have anything with you,’ he pointed out. ‘And it’ll be too late to drive back tonight.’
‘There must be shops in Yorkshire, Alex. I’ll buy a toothbrush and anything else I need when we arrive. Why do you need to go to York anyway?’ she asked as he negotiated the busy London streets.
‘My client’s committal hearing is in court there—although the trial will eventually take place at the Old Bailey. It’s a murder trial,’ he added. ‘Jason Doyle was allegedly stabbed to death by his wife. By all accounts it was a violent relationship, and he often beat her. It appears that she couldn’t take his drunken rages any more.’
‘And you’re prosecuting Mr Doyle’s wife?’ Jenna queried, trying to suppress a shudder. Lee had never used his fists on her, but how many more ‘accidents’ would she suffer when he was around?
Alex threw her a glance, his curiosity aroused by the forceful emotion in her voice. ‘No, I’m defending Susan Doyle. The poor woman has had a terrible life; I just hope I can arrange bail.’
They arrived in York mid-afternoon and went straight to the magistrates court. Snow had been falling across the northern counties all day, and by early evening the roads around the city were gridlocked.
‘We’re booked into a hotel on the outskirts of town,’ Alex said, his impatience tangible as they sat in a queue of traffic. ‘If we turn off at the next junction we should be able to follow a loop around the city and reach the hotel that way. Here—take the map.’
Forty-five minutes later Alex’s temper was as filthy as the weather, and he cursed as he peered through the wind-screen, his vision rapidly impeded by the snow that was falling faster than the wipers could cope with.
‘Where the hell are we? I’m sure we’ve come too far away from the town and we’re heading onto the moors.’
‘Take the next right,’ Jenna advised as she frantically scanned the map.
‘Are you sure? York’s to the left of us—I can see lights in the distance and I’m going to head towards them.’
‘The map says turn right,’ Jenna insisted, but then gave up. She was all too familiar with Alex’s stubborn streak and deemed it wiser to say nothing as the road grew narrower and his impatience became a palpable force.
The wind whipped the snow into drifts, the road no more than a cart track now, while all around the darkness closed in on them. Eventually Alex cut the engine.
‘This is hopeless; I’m going to turn back before we get snowed in,’ he growled, his tone plainly accusing.
‘I told you to turn right—you’re the one who decided you knew better than the map, in typical pig-headed fashion,’ Jenna snapped furiously. ‘I am capable of reading a map, you know!’
‘Fine, so it’s my fault we’re lost?’
‘If you hadn’t been so impatient we could have just sat in the traffic jam for a few minutes. We’d be at the hotel now, instead of struggling to find our way out of a snowstorm.’
Alex muttered under his breath and attempted to turn the car around, but the wheels spun on the icy road so that he lost control and they slithered backwards into a ditch.
‘Terrific, we’re well and truly stranded,’ he reported, after climbing out of the car to inspect the situation. ‘The back end’s right in the ditch. You’d better get out in case the car slides any further.’
An icy blast of air hit Jenna as she opened the car door, her feet sinking into a snowdrift at least a foot deep. ‘What are we going to do?’ she asked as Alex waved his mobile phone in the air, trying to locate a signal.
‘Walk, I suppose. Even if I could ring for roadside assistance nothing’s going to be able to get down this narrow track until daylight.’
‘Maybe we should just wait in the car,’ Jenna said, with a fearful glance across the dark fields at the rapidly mounting snow.
‘For what?’ Alex snapped witheringly as he reached onto the back seat of the car for his overnight bag. ‘Lassie? A Saint Bernard with a barrel of brandy around its neck? We’ll head back up the lane. I’m sure we passed a pub a few miles back.’
‘A few miles?’ Jenna repeated faintly as she picked her way through the snow, trying to keep close to Alex who held the torch.
Within minutes it was obvious that her thin coat was totally inadequate for the wintry conditions, and she struggled to keep her balance in her high-heeled boots, her bruised foot aching with the effort.
‘Come on—keep up,’ Alex ordered after they had been walking for ten minutes, his tone impatient as he flicked a beam of torchlight over her bedraggled form, his fr
own deepening when he noticed her limping. ‘What’s the matter with your foot?’
‘Nothing—apart from frostbite.’ She stumbled to a halt in front of him and he tilted her chin to stare into her eyes, his sixth sense alerted by a nuance in her voice.
‘Let me guess—you walked into another door?’
Jenna sighed. ‘I dropped something on my foot and bruised it, that’s all.’
‘It must have been something extremely heavy, you can hardly walk. What was it?’
Jenna was too cold and tired to think straight, let alone come up with a suitable lie to placate Alex, and she stared at him in silence.
‘If your husband values his life, don’t ever allow him anywhere near me,’ he bit out violently, his jaw rigid as he fought to contain his anger.
For the life of him he couldn’t understand why she remained in a marriage that was at best unhappy and at worst placed her in physical danger from her husband. He had spent hours listening to his client, who stood accused of murdering her husband, horrified by the litany of abuse she had suffered for years at the hands of the man who had purportedly loved her, and he felt sick when he imagined Jenna in a similar situation.
His anger sent him striding on ahead, but minutes later he realised that she was no longer following him and turned back.
‘I can’t walk any further,’ Jenna whispered as she sat huddled on the stone wall that ran alongside the road. ‘You’ll have to go on without me.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Do you really think I’d just abandon you in the middle of nowhere?’ She looked small and fragile, her eyes blinking at him like a startled doe in the light from the torch, and he felt a hand squeeze his heart. ‘I’m not leaving you, sweetheart, so either we both sit here and freeze or you hold my hand and we keep going until we reach civilisation.’
With her fingers curled around his big hand they battled on, until Jenna could barely lift one foot in front of the other. She was too exhausted to offer any resistance when he lifted her into his arms and carried her to the door of an isolated pub.
The landlord was a true Yorkshireman, who welcomed them inside and stoked the fire until it roared, urging them to warm themselves while he called his wife.
‘I can’t believe anyone’s out on a night like this,’ she said as she bustled in from the kitchen with hot drinks, and Jenna smiled weakly, her body limp as it acclimatised to the warm pub after the freezing temperature outside.
She closed her eyes and let Alex explain the details of how they had become lost, only opening them again when the room swayed and she found herself clasped against his chest once more.
‘At least we’ve a bed for the night,’ he murmured as he climbed the stairs. ‘The landlady, Mrs Pike, said to use the room at the far end of the landing. She’s gone to find you some dry clothes,’ he added as he deposited Jenna in the centre of a small bedroom which was dominated by a very large bed.
‘Where’s your room?’ Jenna queried tiredly as she flopped down on the bed. The mattress felt gloriously soft, and her eyelids drifted shut, but she forced them open again as she felt a hand tug the zip of her boots.
‘You need to get out of these wet things,’ Alex told her firmly. ‘You’re blue with cold; I wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve got hypothermia.’
‘I’m okay, Alex. I can manage,’ Jenna squeaked, slapping away the hands that were busily unfastening her coat buttons. ‘I asked you where you’re going to sleep tonight.’
‘In here,’ he replied calmly, and she frowned.
‘So where’s my room?’
‘This is it—one room, and by the looks of it one bed. What did you expect? The Hilton?’
Jenna’s tiredness miraculously vanished, and she glared at Alex. ‘I’m not sharing a bed with you,’ she informed him coldly, but at that moment Mrs Pike tapped on the door, smiling cheerfully as she handed Jenna a voluminous cotton nightdress.
‘Here you are, pet; your husband explained that you left all your belongings in the car. It’s a raw night, and no mistake, you’ll have to snuggle up close to him and keep warm.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
JENNA rolled onto her side on the ancient sofa and cursed beneath her breath as her hip ground against an unruly spring. The two-seater sofa was upholstered in a curious material—horsehair wouldn’t have surprised her—and as she wriggled to find a comfortable spot her blanket slithered to the floor.
‘Alex, are you awake?’ No sound came from the bed, which only increased her irritation. He must have fallen straight to sleep—but then he had the luxury of the double bed to himself, while she was forced to manage on this sofa which was practically an antique.
Not that Alex had made her sleep on the sofa, she admitted honestly.
‘It’s a big enough bed for the two of us,’ he had argued, after flatly refusing to take the sofa himself. ‘For heaven’s sake, Jenna, I’ve wrecked my car and battled through a blizzard. My libido is the last thing that’s troubling me, and the sight of you in that nightdress does not incite my lust, I can assure you.’
‘I’m not sharing a bed with you, and that’s final,’ Jenna had snapped as she’d snatched a pillow and blanket and headed for the sofa. ‘I’d rather cuddle up with a rattlesnake.’
‘Please yourself,’ he had murmured, beginning to un-button his shirt, and as his hands had reached for the zip of his trousers she’d given a yelp of impotent fury and hurried to the bathroom.
It was freezing, she thought grumpily as she wrapped the folds of the enormous nightdress around her. She was tired, cold and miserable, and she hated Alex Morrell—but her reluctance to share his bed had little to do with fear that he would use the situation to his own advantage. As he had pointed out, the sight of her looking as though she had stepped from the pages of Little Women did nothing to trigger his desire, but unfortunately one glance at his naked chest had sent her hormones into overdrive. It was herself she didn’t trust.
The sound of his contented sigh as he rolled over was too much to bear, and she sat up and punched her pillow into submission. ‘God, he sleeps like the dead,’ she muttered, and in the darkness Alex grinned.
Another few minutes and he would have to take charge of the situation, by picking her up and placing her in the bed, if necessary. But as he lay still he heard her move, and the mattress depressed slightly as she slid beneath the sheets.
The bed had to be as old as the sofa, Jenna decided as she hooked her fingers round the edge of the mattress to prevent herself from rolling into the dip in its centre. It was blissfully warm, though. She could feel the heat that emanated from Alex’s body and shifted further to her side of the bed, away from temptation. It would be like spending the night clinging to the north face of the Eiger, she decided, as she hung on to the mattress.
But gradually her grip relaxed, and, left to its own devices, her body rolled towards Alex and curled into the crook of his arm.
It was still dark when Jenna awoke, but moonlight filtered through the gap in the curtains and cast shadows over the room. She was warm and comfortable, but as she stretched she came into contact with something hard, and when she turned her head she discovered she was lying in Alex’s arms.
She should move, a warning voice sounded in her subconscious. But he was still asleep, what harm would it do to steal a few moments of pleasure? In sleep his stern features appeared more relaxed, and she stared at him, absorbing the sheer beauty of his bone structure, the chiselled contours of his face and the resolute strength of his chin. The sheet lay across his chest and she couldn’t prevent her fingers from pushing it lower, to reveal the whorls of dark hair that arrowed down to his hips.
She should stop, the warning voice told her. But the temptation to push the sheet even lower was too strong, and she held her breath, listening to his and watching the even rise and fall of his chest.
‘God, you’re a fidget!’
The sheet was halfway down his hip, and her hand trembled as she flicked it back into place, her e
yes huge with mortification, guilt, and an elemental hunger she couldn’t disguise.
‘How long have you been awake?’ she whispered accusingly, and his mouth curved into a lazy smile.
‘Long enough.’
‘What must you think of me?’ she muttered thickly, and he slid his hand into her hair to prevent her from escaping.
‘I think that this has gone on long enough,’ he told her rawly, the silence of the room so intense that the ticking of the clock sounded as thunderous as her pounding heart. ‘I think you’ve finally come to realise, as I have, that this was inevitable from the moment we first met. This hunger, this driving need, is too strong to fight any more. Kiss me,’ he demanded, his eyes burning into hers, his hand exerting gentle pressure so that she lowered her head and her mouth skimmed his in a tentative caress.
As she leaned over him his arms closed around her, crushing her against his chest, and his lips moved softly on hers, allowing her to set the pace and initiate her own delicate exploration. His fingers threaded through her hair, cupped her nape so that she couldn’t escape even if she wanted, but she was already lost in a sea of sensation, where clinging to his shoulders was her only chance of salvation.
‘I want to make love to you,’ he whispered against her throat, before his mouth sought a path to the valley between her breasts and hovered there.
She felt his hand slide beneath the hem of the all-concealing nightdress, and when he drew the material up she wriggled so that he could pull it over her head. She remained kneeling on the bed while the moonlight revelled in her nakedness.
‘You are exquisite,’ Alex groaned as his hands cupped her pale breasts, discovered their softness and moved slowly, inexorably, towards their peaks, his thumb-pads stroking her nipples so that sensation ripped through her.
And suddenly she didn’t want him to be gentle any more. He sensed her need and felt an answering shaft of desire pierce him, so that he tumbled her onto her back and came down on top of her, the tangle of sheets cast aside so that she was aware of hair-roughened thighs pressed against her skin, the throbbing hardness of his arousal pushing against her stomach. His mouth took hers with a passion that rocked her soul, and she matched him with a fervency that banished any last vestiges of doubt from his mind. She wanted him as much as he wanted her; they were drawn together by an invisible cord and there would be no going back.
His Secretary Mistress Page 11
