Fever Pitch

by Sarah Holland

  Her mouth compressed angrily, as she sensed the mockery. 'You know what they say—all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.'

  Jacey gave a hard crack of laughter, showing predatory white teeth. 'Lying in your teeth, my darling.' He glanced over his shoulder, pointing with one long finger towards a small red Mini parked nearby. 'See anything familiar?' he asked.

  Her eyes narrowed. The little red Mini had been there for weeks. Why the hell hadn't she noticed it? She saw the driver wave at them and felt sick to her stomach. Her skin crawled at the idea of being watched day after day.

  'Your faith in me is staggering,' she said tightly, looking back at him, her eyes dark with humiliation and anger.

  'Staggering,' he agreed, and the sooty lashes flickered against his hard cheek as he slid his gaze over her once more. 'I want you to meet some people.' He jangled a set of steel keys in his palm. 'Are you ready to leave now?'

  She hesitated, watching him intently. 'Define "some people",' she said after a moment, and added, 'Family? Friends?'

  Jacey pursed his lips. 'Family,' he said shortly, then gave a grim smile. 'What little is left of them, anyway.' He looked at her coolly, raising one brow. 'Are you ready or not?' he asked, and Louisa compressed her lips, going upstairs for her bag before she met him a few moments later outside in the street.

  Who are you? she thought intensely as they drove to the house in silence. She had begun to realise that she knew him even less than she had thought she did. All she knew was the raw Jacey.

  I knew Jacey, she thought bitterly, but this is a stranger beside me. I know nothing about him, about his life before me, about his background. Her thoughts occupied her until they reached the house, and she felt even more distant from him as he handed her out of the car with a dark unsmiling face.

  The elegant house was silent as they entered. Then they heard laughter from the drawing room. Jacey pushed open the white doors, and Louisa followed.

  A broad athletic-looking man in his forties looked up. 'The Master Returns,' he intoned.

  He looked like a Welsh mountain, or a rugby player, or both. His hair was an unruly mop of brown curls, his cheeks pink as though he'd been running non-stop for five miles. His smile was as broad as he was.

  'Hello, Glen.' Jacey closed the door behind him, and cast his eye around the room. 'Been drinking my best Scotch again, I see,' he observed. 'Where's Maggie?'

  Glen pulled at the neck of his beige sweater with a thick broad hand. 'Investigating your kitchen, I believe,' he told them, and winked at Louisa. 'A great one for kitchens, is Maggie.'

  Jacey's dark brows met in a frown. 'I thought I heard someone in here with you?'

  Glen looked perplexed for a moment, then his brow cleared. 'Oh, I was leafing through your back copies of Private Eye.' He reached out to the table and waved a wad of papers at them. 'They're a real scream.' His eyes gleamed. 'I say, did you read the one about the girl in the Tottenham Court Road who took off all her . . .'

  'Yes,' Jacey cut in drily. He glanced at Louisa, his face expressionless. 'Louisa, this is my cousin once removed. Glen, my fiancée, Louisa.' He preformed the introductions with a distinct lack of interest.

  Glen stood up, his eyes dancing. 'Hallo, fiancée,' he said. 'You're rather gorgeous. How would you like to join the Ashthorne all-women rugby league?'

  Louisa laughed, her cheeks dimpling. 'It's not quite my style,' she admitted, relieved that he was so friendly.

  'Nonsense! You'd look smashing in a rugby shirt. Look at those legs!' His bushy black brows rose to unsealed heights with admiration as he eyed her legs.

  Jacey tensed beside her. 'Hands off, Glen,' he said in a soft, dangerous voice, and the atmosphere changed immediately.

  She could sense the tension between them, and frowned, her eyes darting from one to the other. Jacey's face was cold, hostile—menace in his eyes as he looked at his cousin.

  Glen studied him. His expression was for an instant petulant, his eyes narrowing. Then he shrugged. 'No harm intended, old boy,' he drawled. 'Just flattering the young lady.'

  Jacey watched him with narrowed eyes, then he nodded curtly. 'I'm going to find that piranha you married.' He opened the door and gave them a tight smile. 'I shouldn't be long.'

  The tension, Louisa thought—there has to be a reason for the tension. Looking at Glen, she felt her eyes narrow thoughtfully. Why had Jacey overreacted to his cousin's compliments?

  'So you're the latest to join the clan,' said Glen with a hint of acidity, his head tilted to one side. 'What do you think of us so far? And don't give the obvious answer!'

  Louisa watched him, then smiled slowly. 'I haven't met all of you, yet,' she said, choosing her words carefully. 'Are there many more?'

  Glen laughed, his pink cheeks creasing. 'Not really, darling. Plenty of hangers-on—but they're not all relatives.' He downed the last of his Scotch. 'No, we're the only ones who are strictly related to the great Master.'

  Louisa considered this with a frown. The door clicked open behind her, and she turned, waiting.

  A short, very solid woman bustled in with a face like a deranged chicken. 'My dear!' she exclaimed in loud tones, and advanced briskly on Louisa, her hand outstretched. 'I'm so glad to meet you.' She peered at her, and frowned. 'But you're not as pretty as I'd expected. I thought he'd drag some glamour-puss home, but you're less artificial . . . sort of classical.'

  Louisa shook hands with her, trying to smile graciously at this backhanded compliment. 'You must be Maggie,' she said, trying to smile naturally.

  'Must I?' Maggie cocked an eyebrow. She settled down on the armchair, regarding Louisa with bright, slightly mad eyes. 'I hope you're not offended, my dear. I live by the truth.'

  Glen sat down opposite her, and gave a broad smile. 'She'll die by it one of these days,' he told Louisa with a slightly barbed smile. 'She offends all my contacts. It's absolutely hopeless—the minute she opens her mouth I lose thousands of pounds!'

  Maggie's eyes cut right through him. For such a short woman, with such a homely, cuddly appearance, she was surprisingly sharp. Louisa could imagine her tongue slicing through anyone.

  'You could do with losing a few more,' Maggie told her husband with a glance at his rather ample waistline. 'Jason, my dear——' she patted Jacey's hand lovingly, 'so glad you decided to marry at last. Makes one so much more stable.'

  'And henpecked,' Glen muttered into his glass.

  Maggie looked at Jacey with raised brows. 'Your influence, I'm afraid.'

  Jacey slid his hands in his pockets, his dark face expressionless. 'All the sins of the world fall on my head,' he drawled, sliding a glance at Louisa from beneath his thick dark lashes.

  'Who was it,' Maggie enquired, 'who charged off like a .teenager? In search of a better life, I believe you said. Leaving my Glen in charge of the business—and interfering like hell every time you deigned to make a reappearance?'

  Louisa listened carefully to each. word. She looked across at Jacey. So he was the head of a business. That was something she hadn't known, something he hadn't told her. Was that why he left me all those months ago? she wondered.

  Jacey was watching Maggie with narrowed eyes. 'You know damned well why I went,' he said softly, and Louisa again sensed the tension in the atmosphere.

  Maggie laughed, clasping her hands beneath her ample bosom. 'Oh yes, we all know why,' she said, eyes bright and a little feverish. 'But surely you should have waited for a decent interval to elapse?' She looked across at Louisa. 'I mean, so soon after Rachel…'

  'That's enough!' Jacey's softly spoken words created an atmosphere of highly charged tension. Louisa noticed Glen stiffen as she watched him. What the hell is going on? she thought, her eyes narrowing.

  Maggie's eyes were hostile, the madness brighter. 'I would have thought one wife was enough for you, but no . . .'

  Jacey's glass smashed on the table as he stood up. 'I said enough!' he bit out between his teeth.

  Louisa stared at him, incredu
lous. 'Who,' she asked under her breath, 'is Rachel?'

  Dinner was unbearable. Maggie's words ran through her mind constantly as she tried to fit them all together. What had happened to Rachel? Who was she, and where was she now? She glanced at Jacey from time to time, needing desperately to ask him, yet not knowing quite how to. It was all so painful for her. She felt afraid of him, and knew she shouldn't. Lovers should be friends, too, she thought sadly, not enemies. She didn't want a marriage built on a foundation of lies and hatred. She wanted Jacey back, the man she had fallen in love with so long ago. How everything had changed since that first sweet meeting, she thought, sighing.

  When Glen and Maggie finally left, Louisa sat in the drawing room with Jacey, feeling uneasy as she plucked up the courage to speak to him.

  'Who is Rachel?' she asked quietly as they sat on the settee together.

  Jacey glanced at her slowly, and the dark lashes flickered as he held her gaze. She searched his eyes for a sign of emotion, for a sign of the old feelings which had once been there for her.

  'My wife.'

  Her heart stopped then thrust at her chest painfully. 'Your wife?'

  'She's dead now,' he said quietly, and sighed, pursing his lips. 'Died a few months ago.'

  Louisa's pulses drummed in her ears. 'My God!' she breathed. 'You were married when I met you! All that time we spent together—and it meant nothing to you!' She couldn't believe it, couldn't bear to think of all the words they had said to each other, which she thought he'd meant . . . and all the time he was married to another woman! She stared at him in disbelief. 'You were using me!'

  'No!' He stood up, staring down at her, his face brooding. Then he pushed his hands into his pockets and gave a harsh sigh. 'She left me three years ago. Or I threw her out—I can never remember which it was.'

  She could hardly believe her ears. 'You can't remember?' She shook her head, staring at him incredulously. 'Your own wife? And you can't remember how it ended?' Slowly, she stood up too, clutching her fingers at her waist. 'Is that what's in store for me? The minute you're fed up with me, will I be out on my ear too?'

  Jacey ran a hand through his thick black hair, sliding a glance at her with impatient eyes. 'She was a cheap little tramp,' he muttered. 'She went to bed with anyone at the drop of a hat. I put up with it for as long as I could, then I threw her out.' He drew a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers for a long moment. 'I'm not made of stone, Louisa. I have my pride.'

  'You have too much pride,' she muttered, bending her head. They were both too proud—and although the pride was a part of their strength, she knew it would destroy them in the end.

  'Likewise, Louisa,' he muttered, his eyes stormy. He slid one hand over her slender neck, pressing his thumb and forefinger into her throat. 'I'll break your pride, though. I'll have you on your knees before I'm through!'

  She raised her eyes to his, refusing to back down. 'That's not my style, Jacey. I don't beg from any man.'

  'Not Jacey!' He slammed his hand on the table, eyes blazing, and she jumped as his hands closed over her throat. 'How many times do I have to tell you?' he asked thickly. 'Do I have to smash it into that thick skull of yours?'

  'Is that why she left you?' Louisa asked angrily, facing him, her temper clashing with his as she stood her ground. 'Did you have to smash it through her skull too?'

  'No,' he bit out. 'Rachel would have enjoyed it too much.' He gave a harsh laugh, his sharp white teeth exposed, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. 'I seem to have sadistic patterns. I tend to pick women who enjoy too much sex and too much violence.'

  Louisa sucked her breath in, the colour draining from her face.

  Jacey slid one hand to her neck, the fingers tight on her flesh. 'Is that what really turns you on, my darling?' he drawled tightly, and pulled her towards him, his hard lean body making heat rush through her. 'Rough trade?'

  'Don't touch me!' she said breathlessly, panic making her heart race wildly inside her, thrusting at her breast, her pulses drumming frenziedly in her ears.

  His mouth clamped shut like a steel trap. 'Sorry,' he said, his voice stinging, 'I forgot. Men don't turn you on, do they? It's power that does the trick. Power and money.' He watched her, his eyes lancing her with bitter contempt. He was breathing hard, his heart thudding at his rib cage. 'Well, I'll give you what turns you on. But first I want to make sure I'm getting my money's worth.'

  Louisa felt her heart stop. She swayed against him, the blood pulsating around her body as he pressed her against him, his long fingers sliding over her, touching her, making her heart race.

  'Before you get my money,' Jacey muttered thickly, 'I want to make sure we're compatible.' His eyes burned on her mouth, his breathing quickening. 'In bed.'

  Her eyes widened with breathless panic as his mouth came closer and closer. His lips clamped down over hers, and she clung to him, her emotions out of control.

  His hot mouth moved frenziedly over hers, his hands sliding over her, pressing her harder against him. Louisa groaned helplessly and her fingers slid to his head, tangling in his thick black hair, pulling him closer and closer.

  She could barely breathe. It had been so long since he had kissed her, and her need for him combined with the violent force of their emotions to create a frenzy inside both of them. . Jacey lifted his head, breathing raggedly. 'Upstairs,' he muttered, his eyes half closed, glittering through heavy lids.

  She swayed against him, her eyes glazed. 'Let me go, Jacey,' she said in a rough unsteady voice. 'Let me go or I'll back out altogether. I won't marry you if you force me to do it.'

  There was a long tense silence. She watched him intently, hoping he wouldn't fight. The time wasn't right for lovemaking. She couldn't possibly let him make love to her knowing how much he hated and despised her; it would hurt too much.

  'Very well,' said Jacey flatly after a short pause, 'I suppose I can wait. I can always divorce you if you're no good.'

  She sucked her breath in incredulously. 'Have you no feelings?' she gasped, her face white.

  'Not any more,' he said tightly.

  She looked at him, her throat stinging. Nothing's turned out the way it should have done, she thought bitterly. Nothing ever does. I held happiness in the palm of my hand, and I threw it away for pride and vanity's sake. All she had left were hopes that one day Jacey would be able to forgive her.

  Would I forgive him? Louisa asked herself, and knew the answer already. Pride had caused the situation they found themselves in now. They were both too proud, too strong.

  Over the months, she had lost her strength. Mistrust and confusion had sapped it, leaving her weak and malleable, hurt and bewildered. Now she had to find it again and put it to good use.

  If she didn't, Jacey would destroy her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Scotty plied her with sherry on her last day at work. It was only fitting, he told her calmly, that she should celebrate her last day at work. Last day of independence, thought Louisa as she watched him pour the smooth liquid into a crystal glass. Once she stopped work, her income would stop, and she would be totally dependent on Jacey.

  The idea didn't bear thinking about. The man she remembered had gone, replaced by a menacing stranger, and Louisa wasn't sure that she could cope with him. If she cared nothing for him it would be easy; but loving him the way she did put a different accent oh their relationship and the balance of power was bound to swing in his favour.

  'Here,' Scotty handed her a glass of sherry, 'one more for the road.'

  'Lucky road,' she said brightly, sipping it.

  Scotty raised his glass in a silent toast. He sighed. 'What'll I do when you're gone?' He turned kind blue eyes to look at her. 'Three years you've been here. Won't be the same without you.'

  'I should hope not,' Louisa teased gently. 'I like to think of myself as memorable.'

  He chuckled into his glass. 'I remember when you first came here. God, what a mess you made of the accounts! Worse than useless.'

  Her
cheeks dimpled. 'I was very penitent, though.'

  'Under age, too,' he said, eyeing her wryly, 'I should never have employed you. Even with those clever black eyes you didn't look twenty.'

  She wrinkled her nose. 'You don't have to be twenty to work in bookshops.'

  Scotty pinched her ear. 'I distinctly remember asking for someone over twenty in the advertisement.' He watched her for a moment with a smile. 'But you didn't do too badly.'

  'Thank you, kind sir,' she said gravely, and Scotty grinned, smacking her on the wrist. Louisa's eyes were affectionate as she studied him, remembering how much she owed him. When she had first arrived in London, she had had no home, no friends, and no money.

  Thanks to Scotty she hadn't been starved out of the West End. He had known instinctively that she was desperate for work, and she had been able to find her feet because of his generosity, able to build a life away from home.

  The shop door opened and they both looked up as the bell jangled. Louisa tensed, her fingers clutching the sherry glass tightly as she watched him walk in slowly.

  Pete was dressed in the same tatty jeans and sneakers he had worn when she first met him. But this time, his face wore a grim expression, his eyes no longer filled with warmth and amusement.

  'Hallo, Pete,' she said anxiously, studying him.

  He nodded curtly. 'Louisa.' Stopping at the counter, he reached into his jeans pockets and pulled out the ring she had returned to him. 'I came to return this,' he told her.

  The ring flashed as he held it up and she looked at it, biting her lip. Then she raised her eyes to his.

  'It's not mine any more, Pete,' she said quietly.

  His thin brows rose. 'Do you expect me to wear it?'

  Louisa looked at the ring as he laid it with a snap on the counter. Then slowly she held out her left hand, moving the third finger. Jacey's engagement ring glittered on her slender finger, the simple diamond solitaire elegant and beautiful.

  'I already have one,' she pointed out softly, and she knew it would hurt him, knew it would push a thorn home inside. But it was better to make the break between them as quick and painless as possible.