by Shirley Wine
"Wow." He looked up eyes wide, a delighted smile on his face. "Is this for me?"
"He's for you." Veronica said around a lump in her throat.
Jordan scooped the kitten out of the box and held him against his chest. "He's way cool Veronica. What's his name?"
"He doesn't have one yet, I thought you could name him."
"Franklin." Jordan rubbed a finger under the kitten's chin. "Does he look like a Franklin to you?"
"I don't know. What does a Franklin look like?"
"It looks like a trouble to me?" Leon murmured near her ear.
Veronica started, so busy watching Jordan she hadn't heard him come in. His smile dispelled her nervousness. He sat beside Jordan and ran a hand over the kitten's tiny head. The little creature arched into his hand.
"Yup, I thought so," Leon grinned, "Pure, feline trouble."
"Aw Dad." Jordan shrieked with laughter as the kitten followed their teasing hands, batting at them. She lifted the camera and snapped several photos.
Leon looked up and rolled to his feet and held out a hand for the camera. "Give me that. You play with Jordan and let me take photos."
The kitten was on her lap when Mutley sauntered in to see what the commotion was about. Veronica held out a hand to the big cat. "Come on fella, want to meet Franklin?"
Mutley stalked over. Franklin arched his spine, his fur and tail sticking out as he hissed and spat with every scrap of energy in his tiny body. Jordan and Veronica convulsed with laughter. The big cat could fix the kitten with one swipe of its paw. Veronica stroked the kitten as Mutley sniffed it all over, and then licked its nose.
"Hey Mutley likes him, Vic." Jordan was so excited. "Look at that. He's welcoming Franklin to our family."
Our family.
The words settled around Veronica's heart, a warm benediction. She looked from Leon to Jordan, then at the two cats and joy settled in her heart.
They were indeed her family.
Chapter Seventeen.
"You're not my mother! I don't have to listen to you," Jordan hurled the words at Veronica then with a defiant glance at her, shoved the tea tray off the table.
Cups, saucers and an antique china teapot smashed on the flagstones of the loggia. Veronica sucked in a sharp breath.
In that moment Jordan looked so much like his father, her breath caught in her throat.
McKenna's words echoed through her shock. Yannis made messes. Leon cleaned up.
Jordan would not follow in Yannis's footsteps on her watch.
"You little vandal!" She leapt to her feet and caught his shoulders in a harsh grip. "That's quite enough! Pick up that tray and the broken china. Now!"
Jordan jumped. He'd never heard her teacher's voice. Cassie heard the smashing china and rushed out to investigate. Veronica waved her away. "Jordan smashed it in a temper, Cassie. He cleans up his own mess."
Jordan lower lip jutted ominously. She could see him mentally debating if he dared defy her. She stood there, hands akimbo on her hips, tapping her foot on the tiles.
"Get to it, lad."
His expression sulky, Jordan bent down and began picking up shards and putting them on the tray. When he'd picked up the big pieces she said in the same tone, "Now go and ask Cassie for a broom, dustpan and brush and sweep up all the splinters."
Jordan looked at her, his expression one of such horrified disbelief Veronica struggled to hide her amusement.
"I don't sweep," he informed her in a lofty tone.
"When you throw a tantrum and make a mess, Jordan Karvasis." Veronica's foot tapped louder. "You clean up. And that includes sweeping."
"I'll tell Dad," his bottom lip jutted even further.
"By all means," Veronica said evenly, determined not to allow this child to play her off against Leon. "Make no mistake, Jordan, you will tell your father. And he won't be pleased. That teapot belonged to his grandmother."
Jordan shrugged, his chin almost disappearing into his shoulders. He trudged off to the kitchen and returned in a few minutes with the broom, dust brush and pan. With laborious movements he swept up broken china, all the while darting mutinous looks her way.
At last he finished and asked with a sneer, "Satisfied?"
"No. You've missed a few shards there." She indicated a few splinters with her foot. With a sulky pout, he swept them up. "Now take the tray through to Cassie and ask her for newspaper and see you wrap the broken china well before you put it in the rubbish."
With a smouldering look he picked up the tray and trudged off to the kitchen.
When he was out of sight Veronica sat on the swing seat, trembling with reaction. It was her first confrontation with her son. The honeymoon was well and truly over.
His words haunted and although pierced with hurt, Veronica knew she had to deal with this. She looked up as he returned.
"Come here." She patted the seat beside her. With a sulky pout he complied. "I am your mother Jordan, whether you like it not. We can't change it. And no matter how many tantrums you throw, I'm not going to go away."
He glanced at her and then away again, scuffing his sandal on the tiles. "You gave me away when I was a baby."
She blinked away the hurt and gripped his hands tightly. "When you were a baby, Jordan, I was seventeen. Not a lot older than you are now. I never had a mum and dad like other children. I grew up in a school."
Every time she thought about her parents, Veronica was angry. Why have a child, and then abandon her? Without Kathleen where would she have ended up? She shivered at the thought.
"Where were your mum and dad?" Jordan asked his sulkiness giving way to curiosity.
"They were missionaries and worked with poor people in Africa and South America."
"Are they still there?"
"They died in a plane crash when I was eight. Kathleen, my mother's friend, raised me. I had no home so when I met your biological father it was a dream come true. Finally I had a home and someone to love."
Veronica wasn't sure how much Jordan knew of Yannis' death so went with the simplest explanation. "When Yannis died, I had no home, nowhere to go, so your dad brought me to Claremont until you were born. I left you with your mum and dad because, although I loved you and it broke my heart to let you go, I needed to grow up too."
Even as she spoke Veronica realised it was true.
She had needed to grow up. She'd been too young to care for an infant on her own. She'd punished herself for years for that difficult decision. Looking at Jordan now, she knew her decision had been the right one for this child.
"But you came back?"
"You needed me," she said simply. "You're lucky you had a second mother. Not every boy has two mothers and two fathers."
Silence settled. Veronica let it stretch. Jordan began to fidget then glanced at her shamefaced. "Dad's going to be mad."
"I should think so," she said with feeling. "Smashing things in a temper is never good. Your dad liked that teapot." She glanced at her watch. "It's time for your rest." She held up a hand not wanting a repeat. "No arguments. Go."
When he was gone Veronica went out to see Cassie.
"You handled that well," Cassie said blue eyes dancing.
"He made me angry," Veronica chuckled. "You'd think I asked him to clean a toilet when I made him sweep up the splinters."
"It's great to see him well enough to throw a tantrum."
Veronica frowned tapping her fingers on her teeth. "Can McKenna drive me to his school? There's no reason he can't have some lessons here."
That evening Veronica was brushing her hair when Leon walked into their bedroom pulling his tie undone as he shrugged off his suit coat. "You had some drama here today?"
She looked at him in the mirror, her expression rueful. "Jordan thought he'd test me."
Leon chuckled, and held her shoulders. "Cassie said you handled it like a pro."
"He came up against the teacher. Good grief, Leon I sounded just like Kathleen!" She laid the brush on the dresser a
nd leaned back against him, relishing his strength. "I've arranged for some schoolwork for him."
Leon frowned at that, toying with a strand of her hair. "Do you think he's well enough?"
Veronica met his eyes in the mirror and saw his conflict. And while she understood his reservations, she also knew that Jordan needed more in his life than he had at the moment.
"He needs activities that will challenge him, and more structure in his life," she said quietly. "Besides it won't do for him to get too far behind his class mates."
He sighed and then nodded. "I know you're right, but—"
Veronica reached up and laid her hand over his. "You're still too close to the unthinkable, I know. You can't keep him so wrapped in cotton he forgets what it's like to be normal and do normal activities."
"Do what you think is best." Leon nuzzled her neck as if he couldn't get close enough.
Veronica let out a soft relieved sigh, glad that hurdle was over. She'd been more than a little worried how Leon would react to her disciplining Jordan. That he wanted them to show a united front she found comforting.
"So what do we do about the broken china?" he asked quietly. "Usually he would lose some privileges but—"
"He already has so many restrictions." This had been worrying her too. "What about replacing the teapot? He does get pocket money."
Leon frowned thinking this over. "I doubt he could afford one as old, but that would be a good way to teach him to value the antiques in our house."
"Or get him to write an essay about that teapot. He can research on line."
"That's an even better idea." He kissed her neck. "I'll tell him what I expect. Do you want an apology?"
His lips were creating delicious friction and she struggled to concentrate. "No he was chastened and so embarrassed at having to clean up. And he's won't enjoy his conversation with you."
"For sure! I'll talk to him. While he's been ill I've let my social obligations slide," Leon murmured. "It's the firm's annual dinner next week. Would you like to come with me? Jordan's well enough now so we can leave Cassie sit with him."
Veronica's pulse leapt. "I'd love to. What's the dress?"
"Formal." He grinned and swung her to face him burying his hands in her hair. "You'll need to go shopping."
Chapter Eighteen.
Veronica, oddly ill at ease, toyed with her wine glass as she watched Leon talking with a group of men. Impeccably dressed in charcoal suit and silver and white striped silk shirt that accentuated his dark good looks, Leon was comfortable in this company. And so he should be, she reasoned swirling the wine in her glass, these were his people.
She couldn't fault his attentiveness and how he included her in the conversation over dinner, yet she was discontented.
She'd looked forward to this evening, and bought a sumptuous sea green gown that matched the colour of her eyes. She'd never owned anything so exquisite, or as expensive.
The gown draped over one shoulder. Held with a gold clasp, it left the other shoulder bare, exposing an expanse of creamy skin. It begged for jewellery to set it off.
Nothing in her meagre collection looked anything but tawdry with the dress and she shied away from buying jewellery. It was a husband's duty to provide these items for his wife. But I'm not the usual wife. I struck a bargain with Leon.
Veronica remembered Julia's opulent jewellery. A shiver shook her. She'd sooner wear no jewellery than some of Julia's.
And that was another reason for her dissatisfaction.
Sure in bed, Leon was a great lover, but outside Claremont it was as if she never existed as a person. Was she doomed to be just a convenient bed mate, one whose compatibility saved his son from certain death?
What flaw in her makeup made her so easy to overlook?
Her parents left her behind, easily forgetting her. Yannis professed to love her, but betrayed her cruelly. Leon and Julia took her baby and then dismissed her as unimportant, until Leon needed her help for Jordan. Kathleen, after initial support, abandoned her to her marriage, too busy to care if Veronica was happy.
Now, it seemed, she mattered even less to her husband.
He expected her to be happy playing substitute mother to her own child. She was tired of being taken for granted.
Sure, she and Leon had struck a bargain, but was it asking too much for a little more? Veronica hated it, but she craved to be loved, for herself. Not for her usefulness to others.
Or was she doomed to forever being the person who gave?
A shiver wracked her.
A movement at her shoulder caught her attention and she looked up into a face that was vaguely familiar.
"Would you like to dance, Veronica? Leon's busy and you've been tapping your toes for the last half hour."
Uncomfortably aware he'd been watching her, she glanced at Leon but he was engrossed in his conversation.
What the hell!
It was a public function and it was only a dance. Damned if she was going to sit here, a wilting wallflower, waiting for her husband to keep her company.
"Okay," she said pushing back her chair and standing up. "And you are?"
"You have a short memory, Veronica. Matt Yorke, Julia's brother," he said as he led her into a waltz.
She stiffened, suddenly very wary. "It's been a while."
"It has at that," He swung them around, her back to Leon. "A lot of water's gone under the bridge. How's life with the Lord of the Manor?"
"We're very happy," she said blandly, not prepared to give this man any ammunition. In the past she'd had every reason to be wary of members of Julia's family.
"Pleased now you've got what you tried so damned hard to get all those years ago? Not easy following in the sainted Julia's footsteps, I'll wager."
His spiteful smile chilled her. She should never have agreed to this dance.
"What makes you say that?"
Matt waltzed her in silence for several moments then asked blandly, "Does Leon still make his daily pilgrimages?"
Veronica gave him a blank look.
"To Julia's grave. I gather Jordan's illness and his convenient marriage to his son's donor haven't changed that little ritual. A creature of habit is our Leon." His chuckle was pure malice. "Still it's only fair that you be haunted by Julia's ghost. After all you tried your hardest to break up their marriage before Jordan was born."
The attack was so unexpected it took her a moment to react.
Anger surged through her and she tore free from his grasp. Blindly, she made her way back to their table aware of tears perilously near the surface of her control. Before she reached her objective, familiar hands caught her pulling her close.
"Come dance, Veronica," Leon whispered in her ear a hand warm on her shoulder, her other hand, cold in his clasp. He steered her onto the dance floor cradling her close against him, his bent head touching hers, her hand held in a lover's clasp against his chest between them.
It took all her will power to fight the urge to pull away from his possessive hold and put space between them. Only the knowledge they were in public and were being watching by curious eyes prevented her doing so.
"What did he say to upset you?" His grim whisper for her ears alone.
Veronica just shook her head. How could she repeat Matt's obnoxious claims?
There was no way she would ever ask Leon if he visited Julia's grave every day. And how could she tell him she was no longer happy to be his pretend wife, a convenient bed partner, the one who loved?
"Why is he here? I thought this was your firm?" It was a struggle, but she kept her voice even.
"Matt Yorke is one of our sales reps, for now."
"You'd sack him?"
"I won't tolerate him upsetting you."
She should have been happy but something in his tone upset her even more. "Can we go home?"
"When the music finishes," he said evenly "It won't look good if we scuttle off as if we have something to hide."
"Like a shaky marriage?" Ver
onica wasn't sure where the acid comment came from but she was so close she felt him stiffen from head to toe.
"Later," he said softly as he swung her in a wide arc putting some space between them as the singer aptly crooned...being tired of waiting for love...
To all intents and purposes, they looked the perfect couple which just proved how deceptive could be.
When the song ended Leon tucked her hand under his arm and escorted her back to their table. He picked up her silk shawl and draped it around her shoulders, the very attentive husband.
Matt sauntered by and Veronica itched to wipe the smarmy smile from his face.
"Leaving us so early?" he asked, his tone saccharine sweet.
"Matt," Leon acknowledged the other man with a frosty smile. "We don't like leaving Jordan for too long."
Matt ran insolent eyes over them and Veronica stood proudly at Leon's side, refusing to shrink from that smirk.
"Your style will start a new fashion, Veronica, although not everyone can wear your unadorned simplicity."
"Simplicity has its own beauty," Leon's grey eyes flashed, a lean hand tensed into a fist, "A concept obviously beyond your comprehension, Yorke. Don't let us detain you."
Veronica went hot and cold all over. A mortified flush heated her exposed skin. With a sweep of one arm Leon escorted her towards the group he'd been talking to previously. With smooth finesse he said their goodbyes.
Veronica was sure she wasn't the only person who noticed the grim expression in her husband's grey eyes.
Leon slanted Veronica a shrewd look as she settled in the passenger seat of his Lexus. Although still, he sensed a gulf widening between them. Something had made her withdraw into herself.
"What did Matt say to upset you?" he asked negotiating his way from the portico of the hotel.
Veronica remained silent for long moments and then said in a quiet, emotionless voice, "Nothing I didn't already know."
He frowned. And slanted another keen appraising look her way but gleaned nothing from her still, composed features. Only the clenched hands betrayed her inner turmoil.
He silently cursed his oversight. Every other woman in that room tonight wore jewellery except Veronica, and she was the wife of the CEO of Karvasis Incorporated.
