The house had been done beautifully. Ross had given Helen a free hand with the furnishing and she had not been foolish enough to go against the advice of the well-known firm of interior designers he had engaged. The treasured antiques that belonged to Tina and herself had impressed them and gradually, as the days had raced along, the small cottage that had been home for so long had emptied as their own furniture had been placed carefully among the new furnishings of the house. Everything blended perfectly, the hard work that Helen had put in very worth while, and as they came back to the house they would call home Tina's face was worth all the effort.
'It's home,' she murmured to Helen, tears in her eyes. 'Dad would have liked this.'
They were giving each other a consoling hug when Ross came back into the hall, a plump, motherly woman in tow.
'Mrs Hill, our housekeeper, Helen,' he introduced quietly. 'Mrs Hill, my wife, Helen, and my sister-in-law, Tina.'
Helen had thought that surprises were over but here he was again, astonishing her. She barely had time to come to her senses and shake the outstretched hand before Mrs Hill was crouching in front of Tansy, her pleasant face creased in smiles.
'My, you're a little picture,' she said warmly. 'Tansy, our daughter,' Ross informed her firmly, his narrowed eyes amused as Helen looked up in amazement. 'She's the picture of you, Mrs Maclean. Not at all like her father.'
'Not in any way at all,' Helen agreed wryly.
'Amen!' Tina muttered and, although Mrs Hill looked a bit startled, Ross was looking very pleased, the smile in his eyes growing.
'Can I go to my new room?' Tansy wanted to know as Mrs Hill went off to the kitchen to make tea, and Tina stepped forward with her usual enthusiasm.
'Me too. I'm right next door, pet. All your toys are here. I want to sort out my clothes.'
As they went up the curved stairs, Helen looked at Ross, finding his eyes on her face, his mouth twisted ironically.
'What do I do with a housekeeper?' she asked with only mild exasperation. 'I've never managed one in my life.'
'You'll cope,'. he assured her. 'I've seen you come the heavy with plenty of people in the office, including me. Mrs Hill looks thoroughly docile. In any case, you're not here to become a domestic drudge. This house is just too big. Tansy needs you, Tina needs you and so do I. We can't have you spread too thin on the ground, can we? You're the hostess, not the kitchen maid. And you're my wife.'
The determination with which he said that had a shiver running over Helen, and it did nothing to relax her when she muttered that she would change and he moved beside her up the stairs, obviously going in the same direction. She hadn't been in the house for quite a few days. Getting things out of the cottage and out of the store had occupied a lot of her time just before the wedding, and Ross had volunteered to order the finishing touches. She was a bit lost.
'I don't know quite where I am,' she admitted, a little flustered. She had deliberately arranged rooms for Tina and Tansy and had put off her own arrangements. She had been too uneasy to discuss it with Ross. Now she was more embarrassed than ever.
'We're here.' Ross opened a door and motioned her inside.
'We?' She stopped on the threshold, shying away like a startled colt, but his hand behind her back urged her on, giving her no option but to go into the huge room that faced the gardens at the front.
'Save the panic,' he ordered drily. 'This is your own room. Mine is here.' He threw open communicating doors and Helen looked through into the other room that faced the front.
'You said I would have my own room,' she began, but he came to stand in front of her, looking at her as if she were a child and barely in control of her tongue.
'You have your own room, Helen. This is it. I'm next door. Did you want me to be at the other end of the house or would you have liked me to choose a nice broom-cupboard? Today we were married. Mrs Hill called you by your married name not two minutes ago. I'm prepared to go along with your fears and worries, with your terror of men, but only so far. I'm not prepared to either look like an idiot or upset Tina.'
'Tina?' Helen looked up at him and he looked coldly back.
'Surely you remember her? Your sister. The bright young girl who is so sure that we're madly in love with each other. Just think how disappointed she would be to find you here in splendid isolation. If she saw me disentangling myself from the mops and brushes each morning, she'd burst into tears.'
'Very funny!' Helen snapped. 'Tina won't know a thing. She'll not come in here.'
'Wrong, wrong, wrong,' he sighed, apparently filled with exasperated weariness. 'Your little family circle is too tightly knit to have zones that are off-limits. The only way she'll stay out of here is if she thinks it's my room too. Hence my determination to be next door. Our arrangement is supposed to be a secret and that means Tina doesn't know either.'
'Of course she won't know!' Helen glared at him, working up anger to hide her misgivings, her pounding heart. 'However, I know my sister. How long do you think it will be before she discovers another room, with you in it?'
'She'll imagine it's how the very rich live,' he said blandly. 'In any case, she may not discover it at all. Perhaps we'll change our arrangement before then and we'll both be next door.'
'You promised!'
Helen looked up quickly, her blue eyes wide and purple-shadowed and he smiled like a satisfied tiger, linking his arms around her waist so that she had to lean back on them to get anywhere away from him.
'Ah! The return of the terror. I said I would never ask you to do anything you were not capable of.'
'I'll never be capable of...'
The sentence was unfinished, her sharp words stopped as his lips covered her own and he drew her fully into his arms. She fought furiously even though her heart threatened to pound right out of her body. It wasn't disgust. It was jealousy. How long ago had it been since Donna Street
had been pressed close to him, kissing him? He tightened her to him, trapping her arms, his hand closing possessively behind her head, his lips never leaving hers, and all the fight went out of her.
He was too strong to fight, too powerful. She almost sagged against him, feeling the hungry need again that rose so sharply with no warning, and his hands lost their cruel grip as he stroked her closer to him, his whole body seeming to enclose her.
She was still not fighting as he planted tiny kisses along her neck and jaw and, when his lips returned to hers, her own mouth parted to accommodate him.
'What are you not capable of, Helen?' he asked softly and triumphantly, his eyes dazzling her as he raised his head. 'All you have to do is let the ice melt.'
She seemed to be incapable of doing anything but look back into his eyes, a gasp of shock leaving her parted lips as his hand came warmly and possessively to her breast. He was holding her so closely, so securely, that she never flinched, her reaction one of almost pained wonder. His eyes held hers as he stroked over the tilted perfection through the thin white silk of her blouse, and she moaned under her breath as his fingers found the throbbing centre, manipulating it into singing life.
Shudders seemed to be racing over her, sweet, painful and exciting, and her eyes closed in self-defence because there was no other way she could escape him, her body refused to move.
'Why are you doing this?' she whispered shakily. 'Only to straighten you out.' His voice was mocking, close to her ear, and he gave the smooth lobe a tiny nip with white, even teeth. 'I can't have you fainting every time I need to hold you, can I? People will get suspicious.' His hand left her breast, moving to enclose her throat, his thumb tilting her chin. He studied her face and smiled a long, slow smile. 'Are you going to accuse me of forcing you? Or can't you move?'
Colour flooded into her pale face and he released her, putting her from him with a sort of quiet deliberation that told her the experiment was finished.
'I've got something for you,' he said evenly, no sign of the agitation about him that Helen felt. He nodded towards the bed where
she was to sleep, the covers drawn back to reveal silk sheets. There was a long velvet box and, when she simply stood where he had left her, he picked it up and opened it, taking out an expensive gold watch and fastening it on her limp wrist.
'A wedding present,' he murmured quietly, 'or did you think the present was Mrs Hill?'
'Thank you. It's beautiful.' Helen had never had a gold watch before and she looked down at it with a sort of childlike wonder. He moved to the door and she looked up then, wanting him to stay, admitting it to herself with fright.
'Ross. I..I have something for you.'
The dark brows rose in surprise and he stopped in the doorway.
'For me? What?'
'A...a present. I...I didn't know what to get because you've got so much and .. .'
'So you decided to give me Tansy,' he mocked. The mockery was soft though and she took heart, going to the bed and searching in her bag, coming out with a small box.
'I should have given you this before, or...or even today when ... It may not fit.'
He looked at her for a minute, his eyes intently searching her face, and then he took the small box and opened it, looking down at the plain golden ring inside, saying nothing. She almost panicked then. To give him a wedding-ring was too much. Now she knew it. It had been more than an impulse, though. After meeting his parents at the White Bear, seeing their almost open animosity to each other and the brittle way that Deirdre treated Ross, she had been angered for him. Her own parents had loved openly, showered unselfish affection on both Tina and herself. She had seen his face, seen the flash of loneliness, and the ring had been a gesture, an almost possessive gesture welcoming him into her own small family. She should never have done it. She could see that now.
'A wedding ring. It can't be anything else, can it?' Ross looked up at her as he said the words, catching the expression in her eyes, eyes that were enormous and anxious.
'Put it on,' he ordered softly, placing the ring in her palm and holding out his hand.
'I...I suppose I shouldn't have ... After all, this isn't real.'
'Put it on, Helen.'
She slid the ring on to his finger, surprised that it seemed to be a perfect fit. He flexed his hand experimentally and looked down at the ring, before taking her hand and gazing for a minute at the rings he had given her.
'For better or for worse,' he murmured quietly. He raised his eyes, watching her for a minute, and then he smiled, a slow, beautiful smile. 'Why?' he asked softly. 'I told you. I couldn't think what to get and ...' Ross laughed quietly, a low sound in his throat. 'Helen, Helen,' he admonished in an amused voice, 'when the ice melts you'll be quite a woman. Until then, I can wait.'
'There's nothing to wait for,' she managed hastily, colour flooding her face. In fact she was pleased, pleased with his reaction to her gift, pleased with the unusual soft amusement in his voice.
'But there is,' he assured her, his strong hand tilting her face. 'When you're perfectly normal, free of panic, all the ice melted, then let me know, because I want you. That's what I'm waiting for.'
He was gone before she could react, and she was glad because her reaction was utterly predictable. To be kissed, held, caressed by Ross was one thing, an excitement she had never known before, but for him to want her, to expect a real wife, was another thing entirely. She knew that one kind of rapture could never lead to another with her. Miles had proved that to her without any doubt at all. It was something she could never face again, never even think about. If Ross expected that then he was doomed to be waiting forever. She was a cripple as far as that was concerned.
The room next door would never know two people, not if one of them had to be her. The fact that sprang into her mind then had her hands clenching tightly, her nails biting into the palms. Donna Street
was perfectly normal, she too was used to his arms, his kisses, and much more. That was why she was here, in England, to see that a normal man got normal affection.
Helen's face set in the old, old lines of cool control and she went downstairs for the tea that Mrs Hill had served. Ross glanced at her, but apart from the fact that his dark brows rose sceptically he might not have ever been close to her. He was very adept at reading her mind and he had recognised her closed expression. It was as well, Helen thought bitterly. He would know not to wait for anything.
After the tea he went to his newly set-up study and came back with two long envelopes, tossing Helen and Tina one each.
'I've opened accounts for you at the same bank,' he told them. 'Here are the forms to sign and all the details. Tomorrow you'll have to go in, give your signatures and see the branch manager. Your credit cards should be there to pick up.'
'Ross!' Tina gave a shriek of astonishment and Helen just looked at him, unable to say anything at all. 'You,' Ross said, looking firmly at Tina, 'have a credit limit. I don't want to see you dressed in cloth of gold.'
As usual they were grinning at each other and Helen was once again struck by how close they seemed to be. Her eyes fell to the ring she had given him and she knew most surely that he was part of them, more than that, she knew he was part of herself.
'Mrs Maclean, of course,' he was continuing, 'can spend without limit. I have faith in her common sense.' 'I'm insulted,' Tina said blithely.
'You're only the sister-in-law, child. Count your blessings.'
'I do, Ross,' she suddenly said solemnly. 'I've not been so happy for years, not since ... Oh, damn!' Tina suddenly stood and almost raced out of the room, her eyes filled with tears, and Helen knew just exactly why. Nothing would ever be allowed to hurt Tina again.
'I've upset her?' Ross looked at her and Helen shook her head.
'Memories. Some bad, some good. This house .. .' She shrugged, fighting off her own ghosts and winning. 'You're very good to her.'
'I married her sister,' he pointed out a little tightly, 'and while we're on the subject,' he continued, a hardness entering his tone, 'you can leave Tansy with Tina and Mrs Hill one day and go for a shopping trip to London. Buy as many clothes as you need and order more.'
'But why? I've got a wardrobe filled with clothes. I haven't even got them all here yet.'
'Anything that Gilford bought you can be thrown out,' he said bitingly. 'Get enough to manage with over Christmas and deal with the rest immediately afterwards. I want nothing in this house that he paid for, whatever his murky reasons.' He stood up and glared down at her. 'And if you think I'm being a domineering brute, then that's about right!'
He walked out leaving her almost open-mouthed, and she didn't know whether to be delighted or furious. In the end she decided to be understanding. After all, with every garment she wore that Miles had paid for she had a wave of shuddering memories, all like nightmares. A man as proud and imperious as Ross would not like to think that she was wearing things that had been used to bedazzle clients.
She would do everything he asked. Maybe she could get a day to herself and still plan a good Christmas? With a housekeeper here she would have time to decorate a tree, to shop and do plenty of things, even though it was now dangerously close to Christmas Eve. She suddenly felt happy, until she began to wonder if Ross would invite his parents for Christmas, along with Donna. There was the chance that his mother and father would have returned to New York but there was no chance of Donna leaving. With her own ears she had heard a declaration to the contrary. Donna Street
would stay where Ross was, giving him the comfort a man needed, a comfort she had obviously given him before, his new family a very good cover, just like his father. She had heard those words too and suddenly she began to see Deirdre's brittle anger in a new light, because she felt the growing of a similar anger herself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
It was obvious that Ross meant exactly what he had said because the next day Helen found he had arranged to take her to London. Tina had elected to stay and care for Tansy with the valuable assistance of Mrs Hill, and there didn't seem to be one excuse to hand.
Ther
e was a sort of grim determination about Ross that made her fear he would personally supervise her shopping, but once in the city she was left to herself, a day of freedom before her and an unlimited amount of money at her disposal. Ross had business meetings to attend and could make no promise about lunch so she set off alone on a cold, crisp day.
The unusual freedom took some getting used to but after a while she began to enjoy herself. The words she had heard from Donna Street
still seemed to be ringing in her mind, the 'old maid' hairdo comment still rankling, and she made that her first stop. She was lucky to get an appointment, but her nerve nearly deserted her as she saw the long black hair being attacked with ruthless skill. Even so, it gave a lift to her spirits, as if the weight of her hair had been holding her to the ground.
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