The cottage didn’t look lived in and the once productive garden was a jungle of weeds, so she didn’t think she did. She sighed heavily. She’d tried so hard to block out thoughts of his past betrayal, just for this one day, but being here had made that impossible. ‘She never did like me.’
‘She was afraid of you,’ Ben commented lightly as he took a door key from the pocket of the stone-coloured jeans he was wearing. ‘She knew how I felt about you and kept telling me it would all end in tears!’ He had opened the carefully restored oak-plank door and it swung back easily on its hinges. ‘She was always telling me that the young lady from the big house would never settle down with the local tearaway who had a bad reputation and even worse prospects!’
He loomed over her and Caroline felt something wither and die inside her as he traced the line of her cheek with a caressing forefinger and added gently, ‘You didn’t ditch me out of snobbishness, Caro. But because of your upbringing you were unable to make a long-term commitment, I understand that now. And you were very young.’
He had been young at the time, too. And sooner or later he would have abandoned her as he’d abandoned Maggie and their baby; sooner rather than later if her father had demanded the return of that money because, typically, he hadn’t kept his side of their bargain. Yet he was talking as if she had been the one to blame for everything that had happened.
Ben put a hand beneath her elbow, urging her over the threshold and as if he sensed her resistance he said lightly, ‘To answer your question, Ma now lives with her sister Jane in Derbyshire on what used to be the family farm. The land was sold off when their parents died within six months of each other around five years ago. They share the farmhouse.’
They were in the main living room and it seemed much larger and lighter than it had been on the only occasion she’d set foot inside the cottage. Her eyes must have been showing her bemusement because Ben told her, ‘When Ma and I lived here, this room was divided by a hardboard partition. She slept behind it and I had a room upstairs with crumbling floorboards and a leaking ceiling.’
So there was light coming from two windows now, and lots more space. The rusty old cooking range had been taken out, revealing a wide inglenook where logs would blaze in the winter. The overhead beams had been cleaned of their peeling layers of black paint and were their warm natural colour.
‘The place was a pigsty when we lived here,’ Ben confided. ‘But because of that the rent was low. We couldn’t afford any better.’ He had drawn her to the deep window-seat at the far side of the room and she had let him, reluctantly, too low-spirited now to argue. ‘You would have seen her around after we came to live here but you never knew her. I think you should. I’m sure you’ll get on like a house on fire when you get to know each other properly.’
He had taken her unresisting hand and they were sitting close in the confined space but Caroline didn’t feel anything. Just numb.
‘People thought she was hard, unfriendly,’ he admitted. ‘But that was simply a defence mechanism. She called herself Mrs Dexter but she was never married. She simply allowed people to think she was widowed or divorced.
‘My father worked with a travelling fair. She and Jane, the sister she was closest to, had sneaked away to the forbidden and “wicked” fairground when it first arrived. That was where she met him. A week later they all packed up and moved on and a few weeks on she found she was pregnant.
‘Her parents didn’t throw her out but they made life uncomfortable. They were devout members of a narrow religious sect and made no secret of the fact that she had shamed them. She stuck it out until I was two.’
He gave her a wry, sideways smile. ‘By then she’d stopped waiting for the fair and the man who’d fathered me to return to the area. So she cut her losses and took off and supported me by taking what work she could. We had a settled period in Manchester— I guess it would be around eight years. Then we moved down south and ended up here.
‘She had a tough life but she never let it get her down.’
It must have been hard for both of them, Caroline conceded silently. Ben’s father had seduced a young girl and had moved away, never giving her another thought. Like father like son? But then, his father hadn’t known he’d sired a child.
Ben had. And still he’d walked away.
She shifted uncomfortably on the window-seat. She felt utterly drained and very slightly nauseous. What a fool she’d been to imagine that they could share just one perfect day.
Ben’s fingers tightened around hers as he sprang lithely to his feet, his smile radiant with enthusiasm as he invited, ‘Come and see the rest—I originally had it restored and enlarged for Ma but she tells me she’s settled up north with Jane. If you like it, I could give up my suite at the house—there’d be room for more children if I did—and we could use the cottage when I visit. Or—’ his smile deepened to a grin ‘—if you prefer motherhood and country living over a career in the city, we could make this our permanent home and keep my London apartment on for when we fancy a dose of the bright lights. It’s entirely up to you, sweetheart.’
Caroline caught her breath. In this light, completely relaxed mood he was damned near irresistible. She shuddered as a cold wash of misery swamped her. He was obviously taking her acceptance of his proposal for granted after the way she’d turned to him in the night.
It was tempting, more tempting than she wanted to admit, but how could she trust him? She’d trusted him before and look where that had got her. She’d be a fool to fall into the same trap twice,
‘Sweetheart?’ The question in his voice, the way he probed her eyes as if he were looking deep inside her soul, unglued her tongue.
She stepped away from him, folding her arms around her body and told him sombrely, ‘We can’t divorce the past from the present, pretend it never happened. You can’t, either. The very fact that you brought me here when you’d said we wouldn’t give it, or the future, headroom today, proves it.’
‘I know what I said.’ His tone was serious now, his eyes narrowing as he moved closer again and stroked with the tip of one finger the tiny frown line that had appeared between her eyes. ‘I was wrong. We can’t forget the way we were, what we had, any more than we can ignore the future.’ His hand dropped as he traced the delicate line from the arc of her slanting cheekbone to the angle of her jaw. ‘And as for today, right here and now, we’re the bridge that connects the two.’
She pulled in a sharp breath, her eyes holding his. They had no future. ‘I have thought it over—’ Her voice failed but under the pressure of his still narrow-eyed scrutiny she found it again. ‘Your proposal, that is. Ben, I can’t marry you.’
CHAPTER NINE
FOR long seconds Ben simply looked at her, his features stony. Then he asked rawly, ‘So what was last night all about?’ His mouth thinned. ‘And let’s not forget this morning. Just sex was it? Not used to going without and I was handy?’
‘No!’ Caroline’s sharp denial was filled with pain. She couldn’t let him think that of her, but she couldn’t confess she still loved him. If she did that then the pressure he would put on her to take their relationship into the future, make it as permanent as he wanted it to be, would be intolerable.
It was time for the truth, to be as honest as she could be without revealing the depth of her feelings for him. She gave an involuntary shudder but her lush mouth was firm as she told him. ‘When we’re together it’s as if nothing else matters, as if the rest of the world doesn’t exist. It was always like that for me, I admit that freely. And if I could keep it like that, then believe me I would.’
She turned her back on him because she simply couldn’t bear to see the eyes that had revealed so many things about him—humour, caring, passion—turning to slits of cold, hard jet.
And there would be worse, she knew that, when she’d explained her position. No man who had created a fortune, his company an international byword, his name highly respected in both business and social spheres, w
ould like to be reminded of his cheating past.
Her eyes on the tangled garden, her heart gave a pain-filled judder. With a lot of hard work and a great deal of pleasure it could be turned into a place of riotous beauty. But of course she would not be the one to make the transformation.
She flicked her tongue over dry-as-dust lips and tried to ease the tension from her shoulders. But it wouldn’t go and she forced out thickly, ‘After the way you betrayed us all I could never really trust you. I might want and—’ she bit off the words, love you, and substituted, ‘—find you attractive, but I wouldn’t trust you not to do the same again.’
‘Ah. So we’re back to that word betrayal again.’
She heard him move closer, his feet making very little sound on the wide oak boards. She wondered if he’d touch her, but he didn’t.
‘You were about to tell me what you meant last night, but events overtook us, as I remember.’ There was a firm edge of determination in his voice. ‘So spit it out now, Caro.’
‘Look I know it was a long time ago,’ she said tiredly. ‘You were young, unprincipled and wild. You might be twelve years older now, successful, extremely wealthy and respected, but people don’t change, not basically.’
‘Cut to the chase,’ Ben instructed, his voice a warning, and she dragged in a breath, wondering why she had to be so stubborn, why she had to be so darned particular. Couldn’t she have at least tried to wipe the slate clean, take as much happiness as she could for as long as it lasted?
But trust was important. Too important to be brushed aside as if it didn’t matter.
She swallowed to ease the tightness in her throat and stiffened her already tense shoulders. Start with the easy one, the sin he’d already put his hand up for, she told herself.
‘My father paid you to go away and stay away. That was bad enough, showed how much I really meant to you. But you went back on the deal, on your own admission. You came panting back to ask me if I was going to marry Jeremy Curtis. I guess your ego couldn’t stand the thought that I might have used you the way you’d used me. You went back on that mercenary deal you made with my father. That shows a complete lack of moral integrity.’
A few beats of silence followed, fraught with menace. Caroline felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She turned swiftly, facing him, just as he snapped out, ‘Your father offered me money but I didn’t take it. I told him what he could do with it. I didn’t renege on any bargain because none was made. If he told you differently, he lied, just as, apparently, he lied when he informed me you were only a couple of months away from announcing your engagement.’
She dropped her lashes. The dark, accusatory glitter of his eyes hurt so much.
‘Had you so little faith in me?’ Ben demanded heavily. ‘I’ve already explained why I had to head to London at a moment’s notice, how I couldn’t wait to get back to hear your side of the engagement story. Couldn’t you have done the same? Waited to hear what I had to say? Why take your father’s word as gospel, write me off?’
Put like that, he had every reason to look so quietly, forbiddingly angry, she acknowledged miserably.
And if the alleged exchange of money for a promise had been the only thing she’d had to worry about at that time then everything would have been different. She would have waited at Langley Hayes to see if he did come back and would have asked him if what her father had said was true.
But it hadn’t been the only thing, had it?
‘There was more to it than that. I know what you did to Maggie Pope and your baby daughter.’ She could hardly get the words out, the memory of the shattering blow she’d endured still had the power to hurt and appall her.
She drew in a deep, ragged breath and said heavily, ‘When my father told me I didn’t want to believe it. But Maggie confirmed it. You got her pregnant but refused to take any responsibility. You washed your hands of both of them; you didn’t want to know. And turned your attention to your next willing victim. Me.’
She watched the colour drain from his face and flinched. The truth hurt, didn’t it just. Strangely, she ached to touch him, to make her peace with him. Love, she supposed, was responsible for this almost primal urge to offer comfort. When it came to the crunch love forgave everything, she acknowledged with a tremor of shock.
Instinctively, she reached out a hand but he shook his head abruptly and walked to the door, his voice tight as he bit out, ‘I have never touched Maggie Pope, much less fathered a child on her. You have to make a choice whether or not to believe me.’ He swung round, his black eyes impaling her. ‘In the end, it all comes down to trust, doesn’t it?’
The brisk walk back through the woods was accomplished in a silence so intense it set Caroline’s nerve ends jangling and made her mouth run dry.
She wanted to tell him she couldn’t condone what he’d done but she did understand. He’d been young, highly sexed and his father had set him a terrible example. And maybe, just maybe, he’d been living up to his own reputation as the village Lothario.
She wanted to beg him not to lie about it, especially not to her, not after the passion they’d shared. She wanted to suggest he made amends by getting to know his daughter, helping to provide for her.
Perhaps, that way, they could finally put the past behind them and go on…
The pace he’d set had made her breathless and her voice snagged as she began, ‘Ben—listen—please don’t lie to me—’
But he cut her short with one slashing movement of his hand. Scornful eyes stabbed into hers. ‘I have never lied to you. I suggest you start listening to your heart instead of your cold, judgmental brain. And while you’re doing that, you can finish up your work here.’ He pulled his lips back against his teeth in a humourless smile. ‘You might not have the time, or the inclination, when I’m through thrashing things out with you.’
Stung by his dictatorial, contemptuous tone, hurt by his refusal to trust her enough to admit he’d lied, she glared at him with tear-glittered eyes.
Ben swung round and stalked away, his stride long and rangy as he crossed the gravelled forecourt of Langley Hayes, his aggrieved pride showing in the tense set of his shoulders.
‘Wait!’ she cried, finding her voice, her tone every bit as dictatorial as his had been. But to her teeth-grinding chagrin he ignored her, striding to his car, gunning the powerful engine, wide tyres scattering gravel as he drove away.
Caroline gritted her teeth and stumped back into the house. The man was impossible. Was his ego so huge he couldn’t face humbling himself, admitting he’d done wrong? Did he have to lie about it?
Did he take her for a total fool?
Because twelve years ago Maggie Pope couldn’t have been lying. The girl, only a few months older than Caroline herself, would have had no possible reason to tell lies about the identity of her tiny baby’s father.
The perfect day she’d planned—they had both planned—had turned into a nightmare and there would be no going back, no reclamation of the stolen hours that had seemed so enticing earlier on.
Which was possibly just as well, she consoled herself crossly, hoping that if she whipped up enough anger then the heat of it would counteract the icy pain in her heart. It might have been twenty-four hours of paradise, but it would have been a paradise for blind fools.
The phone was ringing as she headed across the hall. Frowning, she decided to ignore it then rapidly changed her mind. It might be one of the contractors Ben had hired to reinvent the estate, and she wasn’t going to emulate him and throw a tantrum, regardless of normal everyday duties, nor storm off in a huff!
She took the call in the room that had been her father’s study and such was her jagged emotional state it was a full sixty seconds before she registered the identity of the caller.
‘Michael,’ she responded shortly.
‘The one and only! Listen, Caroline, I’m in the area—a big-house sale just outside Shrewsbury. If you’re finished up your end, and as hacked off as you so
und, you could come back to London with me. Yes?’
She had no further excuse for staying here but the mere thought of leaving Ben, putting their bittersweet reunion behind her, was like the pain of a thousand knives twisting in her heart.
But it had to be done.
‘Yes?’ Her boss’s son repeated his query. ‘I say, are you still there, Caroline?’
‘Sorry—just thinking.’ She pulled in a breath and went on more firmly, ‘I’ve done all that could be done here.’
‘Great! I should be with you around four. We can stop off for something to eat on the way…’ his voice lowered huskily ‘…and continue the conversation we were having before you had to go away. Ciao, sweetheart!’
She flinched at the endearment Ben had used so effectively during the last twenty-four hours, sounding as if he’d really meant it, and replaced the receiver with unsteady hands. She didn’t want any other man to call her sweetheart. She didn’t want any other man, full stop.
And what conversation had Michael been referring to? The getting-to-know-each-other-better one, she supposed with a spurt of misery. Remembering her almost clinical detachment at the time when she’d vaguely supposed that her friendly relationship with Michael Weinberg was worth exploring further, she grimaced. How objectively she’d weighed up the pros and cons: to remain single or form a relationship and a family.
It would never happen for her. There was nothing wrong with Michael: he was intelligent, nice-looking, they had much in common. But like the few other men she’d dated during the past twelve years, he wasn’t Ben.
Caroline put her fingertips to her aching temples, her glossy head bowed. Right from the start, all those years ago, Ben had spoiled her for any other man. She dragged her lower lip between her teeth, her breath burning in her lungs.
Hadn’t he admitted it had been exactly the same for him? Confessed to having brought her back to Langley Hayes with the intention of finally laying those memories they had of each other to rest, proving beyond any shadow of doubt that what they’d had was nothing special?
The Billionaire Affair Page 10
