by Maggie Cox
The woman folded her fleshy arms across her turtleneck sweater. ‘All I’m saying is that perhaps you should be wary of getting to know him, Ms Markham. A wealthy property developer might use any means possible to get the property or land that he wants … don’t you think?’
‘What I think is that you really should keep your nose out of other people’s business.’
As she walked back down the country road to where she’d parked her car several distressing thoughts ran through Sophia’s mind all at once. Jarrett had already told her that he was a rich landowner—but he’d said nothing about buying property, too. To learn of his interest in High Ridge had come as a great shock. The obnoxious shopkeeper had said he’d made several attempts to purchase it. Why had he never told her? Surely it was obvious that she’d be interested?
She felt sick to her stomach. She’d been utterly foolish to trust him. If only she’d stuck to her initial suspicions when they first met that it was the house that drew him and not her! What was she going to do now? As well as entrusting him with the distressing and painful details of her doomed marriage she’d also made love with him … and that had been no insignificant thing. Because during their short association she’d lost her heart to the man. Dear God.
She murmured, as she turned the key in the car door with a hand that wouldn’t stop shaking, and by the time she’d arrived back at the house and walked up to her front door she was so angry and fearful that she’d been duped that she left the shopping bag with the apples in on the back seat of the car along with her intention to bake a pie.
As soon as she turned her key in the lock the door was wrenched eagerly open from the inside and a smiling Jarrett—dust still evident in his curling dark hair and on his cheek—appeared in front of her. Before he uttered a single word, she passionately burst out, ‘Why didn’t you tell me that you’d tried to buy High Ridge?’
The words came out on a broken sob as she blindly pushed past him into the hallway.
CHAPTER TEN
‘WHO have you been talking to?’ Scraping his hand through his hair in bewilderment, Jarrett spun round on his heel and tore down the corridor. He caught up with Sophia just as she stepped through the drawing room door. His heart threatened to burst out of his chest as he grabbed her arm to halt her flight. ‘Who told you that I wanted to buy High Ridge? I wasn’t trying to keep it a secret from you, but I’d like to know who told you.’
Her expression was more distressed than he’d ever seen it.
‘So it’s true, then? In that case does it matter who told me?’ Shaking her arm free from his hold, she stared up at him with emerald eyes that shimmered with tears. ‘What I want to know is, are you here because you really like me, Jarrett, or is it merely because you hope that I’ll sell High Ridge to you? I hear you made several attempts to try and buy it before I arrived. Is that also true?’
Telling himself to remain calm, and not let some interfering busybody’s spin on his intentions cloud his reason, Jarrett dropped his hands to his hips and shook his head. ‘I wanted to buy this place when I heard the owner had died. As someone who’s always admired beautiful architecture, I had a yen to restore it to its former glory and perhaps one day live in it myself. But buying it ceased to be important after I met you, Sophia. If you honestly think I’d be so conniving that I would pretend to be attracted to you for the sole purpose of getting the chance to purchase your house, then I’m pretty devastated. If you’d rather believe some stranger’s incriminating story about me than my own testimony I honestly don’t know how we can regain the trust that I thought we were building. I know you’ve been badly hurt in the past, but I’m not a liar or a cheat or a bully. The last thing—the very last thing I would ever do is use you or abuse you. I’m shaken to my core to think for even a second that you could believe that I would.’
‘But why didn’t you tell me that you’d been interested in the house?’
‘What was the point? It’s your house … you inherited it from your family. If I was so intent on persuading you to sell it to me then why would I offer to make you a loan to help you keep it?’
Sophia hung her head for a moment, clearly busy processing what he’d said. When she raised it again to study him, he could see by her quivering lip and desolate gaze that she was even more distraught than before.
‘You’re right … it doesn’t make sense. But I reacted the way I did because it was my worst fear, you see … that you only wanted the house and not—and not me.’
Although Jarrett ached with every fibre of his being to take her in his arms, to hold her tight and reassure her, he didn’t. The idea came into his head that perhaps he had pushed too hard too soon to persuade her to enter into a relationship with him. Seeing how shaken she was after listening to some gossip put damning beliefs about him in her head, he suddenly knew that he needed to back off a little and give her some space. Given time, would she come round to realising that he honestly did have her best interests at heart and would never deceive her? He really hoped so. He had felt sick to his stomach when she’d looked at him so accusingly just now. After spending that one incredible night with her in his arms he already knew that he would never want any other woman but her. But it was clear that the bird with a broken wing he’d likened her to still needed more time to heal.
‘You should stop scaring yourself. Try to realise instead how much you have to offer any man, Sophia. You should also believe and trust in your ability to discern truth from lies. Does your heart tell you that I’ve been deceiving you?’ he asked.
She shook her head, her hand rubbing away the moisture that glistened on her cheek. ‘No, it doesn’t. When I heard that I’m afraid I just panicked. Fear has had such a hold on me for so long that I’ve fallen into the habit of waiting for the other shoe to drop … for something to go wrong. I always think that if something good happens then I’ll have to pay for it in some way. It’s like I don’t deserve it. That’s all I can say in my defence, Jarrett. I’m so sorry that I was angry with you. I truly regret it.’
This time Jarrett did pull Sophia into his arms. As he enfolded her she shuddered and laid her head against his chest. Lifting his hand, he gently stroked his fingers up and down the back of her velvety-soft neck. ‘You blame yourself too much,’
‘You’re probably right about that. I promise I’ll try to change and be less unkind to myself … more optimistic.’
‘That would be good. But don’t change too much.’ He slid his fingers beneath her chin so that he could gaze down into her long-lashed emerald eyes. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the way you are. You react the way you do sometimes because you’ve been hurt. It’s perfectly understandable. In light of that, it makes sense that you need to give yourself some proper time to heal, to regain your self-confidence.’
With a thoughtful sigh, Jarrett drew the pad of his thumb down over her damp cheek. ‘That’s why I want to honour that need. You’re still the only woman I want to be with, Sophia, but if our relationship is going to have a chance at all then you need time to work things out for yourself. To reach your own decisions about things without my influence. What I’m leading up to is that I suggest we have a break from seeing each other for a while.’
The shock that registered in her eyes tore at his heart, but Jarrett steeled himself against changing his mind. He was convinced this was the right thing to do. To act in any other way would be to put his own wants and needs before hers, and he’d already vowed not to do that. That was what her brutish husband had done, and he’d seen for himself the damaging effects.
Slowly but surely Sophia extricated herself from his arms. When she was satisfied that there was enough space between them, she folded her arms tightly over her chest. Her lips quivered. ‘All right, then. I agree. I see where you’re coming from. I didn’t trust you—I’m not surprised you want a break. Maybe even a permanent one.’
‘I don’t want a permanent break. I’m genuinely thinking of you, Sophia. And while we’re apart if
you need me for anything—anything at all—I’m there for you. I give you my word on that.’
‘Thanks.’ She shrugged. Her discomfort was painful to witness.
‘I mean what I say. There’s just one other thing I wanted to mention.’
‘What’s that?’
Hearing the slight catch in her voice, Jarrett had to steel himself for a second time not to take back his suggestion. Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he took out a small notebook and pencil and wrote down a number, which he handed to Sophia. ‘This is the number of a lawyer friend of mine. I’ve already spoken to him and outlined the problem you’ve been having with your ex father-in-law. Needless to say I’ve mentioned no names, but my friend was instantly interested in helping you. He’s a good man, and if anyone can bring about an end to this intimidation he can. I want you to give him a ring, and I want you to do it soon. You’ve lived with the threat of losing Charlie for far too long.’
Examining the slip of lined paper Jarrett gave her, Sophia thought it was a wonder she could make out a letter or digit through the hot blur of tears that clouded her gaze. Jarrett was breaking off their liaison and it was all her fault. She’d elected to believe some stupid comments she’d heard from a mean-spirited gossip over the kindness and generosity of a man who really cared for her. How could she have been so short-sighted and stupid?
She folded the note and slipped it into the pocket on the front of her shirt. ‘I promise I’ll ring,’ she murmured.
‘Sophia?’
‘Yes?’
‘Don’t put off ringing him because you’re worried about how much a consultation will cost. I’ve already arranged with my friend for him to send the bill to me. And if it transpires that you decide to sue Abingdon for damages then I’ll foot the bill for that, too.’
Swallowing hard, Sophia made herself bring her glance level with Jarrett’s. His blue eyes glittered like incandescent sunlight over a still lake, and she could swear she heard her heart crack. ‘One day I’ll pay you back for all the kindness you’ve shown me … that’s my promise to you, Jarrett.’
‘You owe me nothing.’ His voice was slightly gruff, as though he was struggling with emotion.
‘Let me be the judge of that, will you?’ She offered him the most tenderly loving smile that she could manage. It was a poor reflection of the torrent of love and longing that poured so helplessly into her heart.
Three days after she’d tearfully said goodbye to Jarrett, Sophia found herself on a train to London. She’d taken his advice and had an appointment with his lawyer friend. Now she was intent on facing one of her worst fears—holding her ex father-in-law to account not just for his own vile intimidation of her, but his son’s too.
She’d done a lot of thinking since Jarrett had suggested they take a break, and their being apart had made her realise that she didn’t want the themes of regret and loss to be the pervading story of her life. Nor did she want anyone else to have power over her. So, instead of running away and hoping for the best, she would face her fears head-on instead. She refused to spend one more night in fear that Christopher Abingdon might exploit some loophole in the law to take Charlie away from her.
The buildings that housed the elite coterie of lawyers in Lincoln’s Inn were grand and imposing, with a long and distinguished history, but as Sophia mounted the stone steps of one of the grandest buildings in the tranquil urban enclave she refused to be intimidated. And if she wavered for an instant all she had to do was think of her son and how he deserved a mother who was courageous, who would do anything to ensure his wellbeing now and in the future, no matter what the cost to herself.
In the opulent waiting room, with its stately antique furniture and solemn portraits of imperious-looking lawyers of bygone days, she flicked through a copy of Tatler magazine to while away the time. But she barely registered the glossy contents because the adrenaline pumping through her body made her impervious to anything but the all-important and possibly life-changing interview that lay ahead of her.
When Jarrett had endured his first self-inflicted separation from Sophia—after he’d wrongly mistaken her brother for her lover—he had been sullen and ill-tempered with anyone who’d happened to rub him up the wrong way. And it hadn’t taken much—just a glance that lingered a little too long had been enough to ignite his temper. That was until she’d confronted him with the truth. But their being apart this time had made him turn in on himself rather than inflict his bad temper or desolate mood on anyone else.
At first he chose to bury himself in his work, but when he wasn’t distracting himself with that he returned to missing Sophia unbearably, and the interminable ache in his heart grew worse. Had Charlie returned from his visit to his uncle? If he had, Jarrett hoped that his presence might help ease the pain in her eyes that he’d witnessed when he’d suggested they spend some time apart for a while. Even now he wondered how he had been strong enough to make such a suggestion. It barely consoled him that he’d done it for her own good, so that she might take the proper time out to heal.
Today, three days into their separation, he’d received a dinner invitation—or rather a command—from his sister Beth. Unsure whether he could face another long evening on his own, with nothing for company but his increasingly desperate desire to see Sophia, he’d reluctantly elected to go. Besides, he told himself, they hadn’t spoken since she’d rung to apologise for suggesting he was getting close to Sophia purely because he wanted High Ridge. It didn’t sit right with him that they hadn’t properly made up yet.
‘Hello, stranger!’
Beth threw her arms round Jarrett in a waft of her favourite Dior perfume, and he couldn’t help but hug her back. Tonight she looked relaxed and pretty in an uncharacteristically casual ensemble of pink sweatshirt and faded blue jeans. In contrast, he still wore the Armani suit he’d donned for a board meeting in London. Not wanting to appear as uptight as he felt inside, he reached up and loosened his navy silk tie.
‘Dinner’s about half an hour away,’ she informed him cheerily. ‘Why don’t you come and join me in the kitchen and we can chat as I put the finishing touches to it?’
‘Okay,’ he agreed, wondering why all the house lights were off apart from in the hallway and kitchen. ‘Where’s Paul?’
Beth rolled her eyes. ‘Gone to see his mother in Exeter. He’ll be gone for a few days. I’ll miss him, but I actually think it’s good for couples to have some time apart. It makes the heart grow fonder, as the saying goes. Anyway, I thought it would be a good opportunity for us to catch up with what’s been happening.’
‘Hmm …’ Suddenly wary, and knowing he’d have to take a view on how much or how little to share as the evening progressed, Jarrett stood the bottle of fine red wine he’d brought on the marbled surface of the kitchen counter. ‘Shall I open this?’
‘Yes, please.’ His sister was suddenly at his side, examining the vintage of the bottle. ‘Impeccable taste, as usual. Mind if we keep it simple and eat in here?’ She nodded towards the white marble island where she had set two places.
‘Good idea. I’m all for keeping things simple,’ he murmured, unable to keep the irony entirely out of his tone.
‘Well, you pour the wine and I’ll get my ingredients together for custard to go with the apple crumble. We’re having beef bourguignon for the main, and I thought I’d make your favourite dessert to go with it rather than anything fancy.’
‘Thanks.’ He opened the wine and left it to breathe as he collected two slim-stemmed glasses from the cabinet on the other side of the room—all the while painfully remembering that Sophia never had made the apple pie she’d promised him. All because some poisonous gossipmonger had made her doubt his sincerity.
‘Jarrett?’ His sister was giving him one of her deeply penetrating looks that he knew prefigured an uncomfortable query into his private life.
Tensing, he kept his gaze focused on the two elegant wine glasses he’d set down side by side on the counter. ‘Yes?�
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‘You seem a little subdued this evening. Is everything all right? I mean, there aren’t any hard feelings about what I said at the party?’
‘You mean about my reason for getting to know Sophia?’
‘Yes. You are still friends with her, I take it?’
‘Yes. We’re still friends.’
The heavy sigh Beth released made Jarrett immediately lock his reluctant gaze with hers. ‘I’m getting the distinct feeling you want to be more than just friends with her. Am I right?’ she gently quizzed him. ‘You can talk to me about it, you know. Contrary to what you might believe, I can be discreet.’
‘I’d like to believe that—I really would—but having recently experienced the damaging effects of idle gossip I’m not in a hurry to share my thoughts or feelings with anyone … even you.’ Suddenly restless, he waved his hand towards the bottle atop the marble counter. ‘Shall I pour us a glass of wine?’ he suggested.
‘Sure.’
Her expression thoughtful, his sister moved back to the oven to check on the progress of the fragrant apple crumble she was baking. When she’d completed the task, she turned back to him with a frown, her blue eyes clearly reflecting both regret and concern about what he’d just shared. Having poured the wine, he handed her a glass.
‘Thanks. Look, Jarrett, I’m so sorry about how I behaved when Sophia was here. I don’t know what got into me. My only defence is that—as is my habit—I wanted to protect you. I know you’re all grown up now, and you’ve achieved the kind of success that our parents probably dreamed of for us both when we were kids, but you’re a rich, good-looking guy and I’m sorry to say that there are plenty of unscrupulous women out there who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of you.’
‘Weren’t you suggesting that I was the unscrupulous one—trying to get to know her in order to persuade her to sell the house?’
‘Yes, but that was before—’
In no mood to be either diplomatic or polite, Jarrett exploded. ‘Before what? For your information Sophia Markham is a million miles away from the kind of woman you think she is. If you knew what she’d survived then you wouldn’t be so quick to imagine that she’s some kind of mercenary man-eater!’
