Pete looked at the ring bitterly. 'Rich, is he?'
She flushed. 'That isn't why I'm marrying him, Pete.'
'No, of course not,' he said under his breath. 'It's love, true love, the radiant bride and all that.'
'I told you—I hurt him badly, and I want to try and make up for it. . .'
'Do go on,' he muttered, eyes accusing, 'and on, and on, and on!'
There was a long silence. Louisa looked steadily at the ring, watching it reflect light as it lay on the white-topped counter, hoping he would pick it up. She didn't want him hurt any more. But he was making it very difficult for her to end it with one quick break.
She moistened her lips. 'I'm sorry this had to happen, Pete, I wish it could have been different ...'
'Oh, for God's sake!' he snapped angrily, then broke off, pushing a hand through his hair.
She lapsed into silence, her fingers restless on the counter as she tried to think of something else to say. But what could she say? Nothing.
Pete was watching her, his eyes angry. Then he sighed, leaning against the counter. 'Why?' he asked under his breath, staring at the floor. He looked back at her. 'Why have you done this?'
She looked up hopelessly. 'I love him.'
Pete drew an unsteady breath. 'Hell!' he muttered, taking the ring and stuffing it into his jeans pocket before turning to walk out of the shop.
But the door opened before he reached it. Jacey stood in the doorway, his eyes darting from Louisa to Pete and back again. He tensed for a moment, standing deadly still, then he closed the door behind him.
'Well, well, well,' he drawled unpleasantly, 'if it isn't our wealthy friend!' He looked at Louisa with narrowed eyes. 'What the hell is he doing here?'
Pete was perplexed, frowning uneasily. He looked Jacey up and down, his face showing the fact that he didn't quite understand what was going on. Then he looked over his shoulder at Louisa with a puzzled frown.
'Who is this guy?' he asked her slowly.
'This guy,' Jacey drawled before Louisa could speak, 'is the man she's going to marry.'
Realisation dawned on Pete's face. 'So you're Jacey,' he said curiously. 'No wonder she prefers you to me—you've got money written all over you. I'm just a poor relation compared to you.'
'Watch your mouth, Radcliffe!' Jacey gritted tightly.
Pete ignored him. 'So the best man Won! Lucky old you. But I shouldn't go counting any chickens. She's marrying you out of pity—did you know that? Feels sorry for you. 'Poor Jacey,' he mimicked, and Louisa flushed—it was a brilliant imitation of her voice.
Jacey pushed away from the door, his body tense, hostile. 'Get out before I knock your teeth down your throat,' he muttered under his breath.
Pete laughed at him, which only made Jacey angrier. 'The truth hurts, does it?' he said, thin brows raised. 'I wouldn't lay any bets on how long she'll stay, either. The word faithful doesn't enter her vocabulary.'
Jacey's jaw tightened. 'You really ask for it, don't you?' he said tightly, moving towards him.
Louisa was out from behind the counter in two seconds flat. 'Jacey, don't!' She clutched at his arm desperately.
He looked down at her in surprise, his eyes searching hers for a long moment in silence. She felt her heart thudding faster as she watched him anxiously.
'I'm not letting him get away with that!' he said angrily.
She shook her head. 'He doesn't mean any of it. He's just angry and hurt—surely you can see that?'
Jacey studied her for a long moment, then his muscles relaxed slowly. He turned to Pete. 'All right, Radcliffe,' he said grimly, 'clear off. And think yourself lucky I don't push your face into the middle of next week!'
'My pleasure.' Pete muttered, obviously shaken, and went out of the door quickly, slamming it behind him, making the bell jangle furiously.
Louisa sighed, relieved that nothing had happened. There was a darkness in Jacey that worried her. She had unleashed it by betraying him, in his eyes, and she was very much afraid that she had unleashed a violent jealousy in him at the same time. What frightened her most was that the darkness in him clicked inside her, and only served to intensify her own feelings towards him.
Perhaps it was the fierce possessiveness that made her feel secure. After all, if he wanted her this badly, it was pretty obvious that he wasn't going to let go of her again if he could help it. A classic case of the thunderbolt, she thought, looking up at him.
She found he was watching her intently, almost as though his eyes were branding her with his name, and she flushed under that steady gaze. 'It's just the way he feels at the moment,' she said quietly. 'He'll get over it.'
Jacey's eyes were stormy. 'My God, I hope so!' he muttered under his breath. 'If I find I've married another Rachel. . .' He let the words dance in the air with an unspoken threat, and Louisa knew that at that moment he would kill anyone who took her away from him again.
The thought sent a frisson of electricity through her. The power of his feeling fuelled her own. She hoped their need would only grow instead of fizzling out.
Jacey held a small party three days before the wedding. He wanted her to meet some friends, he said, but Louisa thought he was putting the penultimate stamp of ownership on her. Parading her in front of his friends would only bring the reality of it all home to her.
He had bought her an extensive, new wardrobe. Louisa had felt foolish as he led her into the expensive Bond Street shop and picked out a whole row of exquisite clothes for her. The prices had made her breath catch with incredulity—the dress she was wearing now had cost more than two months' wages.
Jacey came up behind her and his eyes met hers in the gilt-edged mirror. 'Enjoying yourself?' he asked smokily, his long fingers sliding over her throat, and the cool touch made her shiver, pulses leaping.
She nodded, smiling a little. 'I like your friends—most of them.'
His brows linked with amused enquiry. 'Most of them?'
Louisa looked at him through her lashes. 'Some of them aren't quite real.' She saw his answering smile and knew he agreed with her. The people in the other room were on the whole natural and friendly, but one or two spoilt the atmosphere with pretence, hiding behind glossy masks and false smiles.
Louisa hated people like that. How could you talk to someone if they hid behind an image all the time? It was like talking to beautiful marble statues, or being a teenager again and kissing posters goodnight.
The doorbell rang and she turned. Their faces were inches away from each other, and Louisa felt her breath catch as her eyes fell on his firm mouth. The sensuality was almost overpowering.
Stepping past him, she felt her pulses race as she walked to the door, sensing his eyes burning into the back of her neck as she walked away from him.
It was Glen and Maggie, standing on the threshold, their faces flushed.
'I come in peace,' Glen announced, holding up his hand like a Red Indian.
Louisa laughed lightly. 'So I should hope!'
Maggie thrust a bottle of brandy into her hands. 'Where's Jason?' she asked briskly, pushing past Louisa and marching into the hall.
Louisa glanced over her shoulder. 'Mingling, I expect.'
Glen jiggled his bushy black brows and grinned. 'That sounds fun. Do you mingle?'
'Not with rugby players. I'm not much good in a scrum.'
Glen laughed, flattered. 'You've got a good memory!'
She smiled and moved away, the exquisite black silk dress rustling at her feet. Sensual and elegant, it clung like a second skin, the diamante-studded straps crossing over her bare back, the material slashed to the waist at the back. Long black evening gloves lent seductive highlights, showing creamy white skin where they ended. A diamond bracelet flashed at her wrist over the black gloves like frost.
Jacey stepped into the doorway of the drawing room just as she walked towards it. His gaze swept her possessively, and she tilted her head to meet it. She felt a little uncomfortable in such elegant surroundings, bu
t she didn't let it show.
Someone had once said—'Sex appeal is half what you've got and half what you make other people think you've got'—and Louisa stuck to that like glue. It could be applied to anything from sex appeal to courage to personality. Confidence, she decided, is definitely half.
'Jason, my dear!' Maggie bustled up to him, resplendent in a shocking pink dress, her bosom spilling over the top, several gaudy bracelets clanking at her wrists. 'So glad you're introducing Louisa to everyone. One does approve.'
'One does one's best,' Jacey drawled, imitating wickedly.
Louisa hid a smile—he was a brilliant mimic.
Maggie decided not to notice. 'Rachel was so frightfully difficult to get to know—always hiding behind that silly image. I do hope Louisa has more sense.'
Jacey's jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing.
Glen interceded quickly. 'Do stop putting on your party voice, darling,' he muttered, gripping his wife's arm and dragging her away. 'It clashes with your dress.'
Maggie hissed something very rude as Glen led her off, and Louisa watched with amusement. Maggie looked like a mad chicken turned punk rocker!
Jacey was watching Louisa shrewdly. 'You look pale,' he said tersely. 'Did they say anything to upset you?'
She frowned. 'What could they have said, Jacey?'
His face shuttered. 'Nothing.' He slid an arm around her waist and began to lead her away, his fingers splaying on her hips as her body moved sinuously against him.
She shook a dozen hands and met a dozen faces, but they all faded into an indiscriminate blur. In the end, she escaped, exhausted, to look for peace and quiet in the kitchen.
Jacey was on her mind, as always, and she stared blankly ahead as she walked into the quiet kitchen. Jacey again, she thought, closing her eyes. She suddenly felt angry with herself. Is that all I am? Jacey's partner? Don't I belong to myself any more, don't I exist without him? She sighed, closing the door a little and sipping the last of her drink.
She noticed Glen in the corner by the fridge. He was trapped by an anaemic-looking woman with garish red hair and great slabs of blue eye make-up on.
'The kids have just had flu,' the redhead was droning in a flat, boring voice, 'and my husband's been limping for weeks. He tripped over the cat.'
'Louisa!' Glen saw her with relief. 'Have you met Deirdre?'
Deirdre turned her red head and looked at her with bloodshot eyes. 'I shouldn't come too close,' she said in a dead voice, 'I've just had bronchitis.'
Glen made a tragedian gesture, his mouth forming a silent howl.
Louisa tried not to smile. Deirdre had to be heard to be believed. 'I thought I'd have some more punch,' Louisa said casually.
Glen jumped away from Deirdre like a shot. 'Good idea!'
'I must go and take my pills,' said Deirdre, disappearing.
Glen groaned with relief. 'God, that woman! My back teeth have just been bored out of their sockets!'
Louisa spooned the thick punch into her glass and sipped it. Her lids closed with a sigh as the cool air from the kitchen window touched her hot cheeks. It was so peaceful out here.
She looked back at Glen with a smile. 'I thought she was quite nice,' she murmured, laughing under her breath.
Glen pulled a face. 'If you like hearing private instalments of General Hospital! I dread to think what it's like to live with her. They probably paint a red cross on the door and ring a bell outside shouting "Unclean, unclean"!'
Louisa laughed, her dark eyes sparkling with amusement. Looking out of the window, she felt a sigh escape her at the beauty of the night. Little silver stars twinkled like moondust in the dark blue night, filling the air with romance. Her mouth turned down at the corners. If only Jacey still loved me, she thought, this would be so perfect.
'Penny for them,' Glen nudged her arm with a grin.
She turned, smiling. 'That's so corny, it's almost edible!'
'You looked sad,' Glen said quietly. He shrugged, pretending indifference. 'I thought I could help. But obviously you're Superwoman, so I'll leave you to search your inner self with X-ray vision.'
He turned to go, and Louisa caught at his sleeve, frowning. She hadn't meant to offend him. He had only been trying to help. He looked back, and she gave him a quick, apologetic smile. 'Sorry.'
Glen watched her for a long moment, his eyes shrewd. 'It's Jason, is it?' he asked softly, and she looked away, suddenly caught between asking him to tell her more about Jacey, and telling him not to talk to her. Jacey wouldn't be pleased, to say the least, if he knew she was discussing him with his cousin. But what else could she do? Jacey wasn't going to tell her any more than he had to.
Glen read the hesitation in her eyes. 'I'll tell you about Rachel, if you like,' he said slowly, watching her, and she nodded, biting her lip. Why not? Glen perched on a kitchen stool, nursing his drink. 'Rachel was very pretty, very sexy, very spoilt, and probably the most selfish person I ever met.'
Louisa eyed him. 'You didn't like her?' That made her frown, because she had got the feeling that Glen had liked Rachel. Nothing had been said, but all the same, she had picked up that feeling somehow.
Glen stiffened, looking away. 'Not much,' he murmured, then downed the last of his drink before saying, 'Anyway, Jason found out she was seeing half the male population of London and went berserk—threw her out.'
'Was he very violent with her?'
'He didn't hit her, if that's what you mean. It was all very dramatic—you know, never darken my doorstep, and that kind of thing. But he didn't divorce her, just bought her a house in California and sent her packing.'
She listened intently. 'How long ago was this?'
He frowned. 'Three years or so. As soon as she left, Jason pushed off too. Left the business, left the house—everything, and just took the clothes he stood up in. We rarely saw him after that.'
So Jacey had been living alone in London for a long time before she met him. Now I know what he meant when he said he was sick of the world he lived in, Louisa thought. A wife who ran around town with other men, and who only wanted him for his money. That wasn't much of a life for any man.
'Rachel came back a few months ago,' Glen continued. 'She wanted Jason to give her some more money. He wasn't here, though—God knows where he was.'
He was with me, she thought, her heart hurting. Tears were stinging her eyes, so she closed them, refusing to cry in front of Glen. I should have trusted him, she thought, angry with herself. I should have waited until he felt able to trust me. Instead, she had let him down when he needed her most.
'Rachel didn't give up easily, though,' Glen was saying with a smile. 'She worked on Jason's father to get the money out of him. And one day she took him for a drive.'
There was a silence, and Louisa looked up sharply, sensing the unspoken words before they came. 'What happened?' she asked.
Glen sipped his drink. 'Rachel drove them both into a tree. They died on impact.'
She gasped, horrified. 'How terrible!' My God, she thought, no wonder Jacey hates me so much! His emotions towards her were tied up inexorably with the death of his father and of his ex-wife. Just when he needed her support, she had betrayed him. But surely the hatred stemmed from love? The opposite of love is indifference, not hatred. Hatred is raw emotion—surely she could change it back into love if she worked at it, proved to him that he had never really left her thoughts?
Glen was shrugging. 'I liked old Mr Knight—he was a good guy. But Rachel wrecked everything she touched—her middle name was trouble.'
'I can't believe anyone could be as bad as all that,' Louisa sighed.
Glen laughed. 'You didn't know Rachel. She was the absolute pits!'
Rachel had obviously been a destructive woman, Louisa realised. Is that how Jacey is beginning to see me too? she thought with sudden sadness. She had certainly wrecked their chances by being faithless. His wife and father had died tragically, and instead of trusting him she had thought only of herself.
That was the trouble with being insecure. When you're insecure you only ever see things from your own angle. Jacey had been sad, depressed, and instead of seeing he was in trouble, she had thought the sadness in his eyes had been an indication that he was no longer interested in her.
'Hey!' Glen said gently, sliding an arm around her, concerned. 'Don't worry—it'll be okay.'
Louisa realised with a shock that she had been crying, and did her best to calm down, wiping her damp eyes with a trembling hand.
Glen stiffened suddenly, turning his head.
'Get away from her,' Jacey drawled, standing deathly still in the doorway, and Louisa looked up sharply, her eyes widening. Not again, she thought.
'No can do, chum.' Glen looked obstinate. 'She's upset.'
Jacey laughed—a hollow, angry laugh. 'Are you crazy?' he drawled icily. 'Rachel didn't want you— what makes you think Louisa will?'
Glen turned scarlet, then white, his face draining of colour. His eyes stared blankly at Jacey, and Louisa suddenly knew why the atmosphere was so tense whenever Jacey saw her with him. Glen's arm dropped from her shoulder and he walked stiffly out of the room.
There was a long silence. Louisa watched Jacey warily, wondering why he hadn't told her about Glen and Rachel before.
'Stay away from him,' Jacey said tightly, and swung away without another word.
She stared at the empty doorway in angry disbelief. He just walked away, every time, without explaining anything to her, and she started to follow him, her heart thudding. It's about time I had some answers, she thought, her mouth tight. But as she reached the doorway to the drawing room she stopped, seeing Jacey.
His black head was bent in conversation with a ravishing blonde who was looking up at him, big blue eyes eating him. Louisa gritted her teeth. Jacey turned his head and their eyes met as his face shuttered, blocking her out of his thoughts and feelings.
Louisa turned away. What was the point?
The conversation with Glen haunted her. Every person she met saw Jacey with different eyes, and their words lent a new insight into his character, and what had happened to form that character. But more and more she was coming to realise that the Jacey she had first met and fallen in love with had been the man he really was, the raw Jacey, with no masks, no pretences, nothing to hide behind.
Fever Pitch Page 8
