Her One and Only

by Penny Jordan

  The Cheshire countryside in sunshine had to be one of the prettiest sights there was, Samantha reflected happily as she sat next to James in comfortable silence as he drove them towards Chester.

  In the distance beyond the fertile neatly checkered fields lay the blue haze of the Welsh mountains. No wonder in centuries gone by there had been so much feuding over the Welsh border. No wonder warring English kings had needed to build so many strong castles to protect their rich domain.

  It was a humbling thought to remember that the Romans had farmed these lands and mined the rich vein of salt from which the town of Haslewich had got its wealth and its name.

  Now the salt was no longer mined and the modern legacy that industry had left was one of flooded salt works and dangerously unstable buildings.

  As though he had read her mind James commented conversationally, ‘We’ve got an interesting case at the moment. A local farmer is trying to sue Aarlston-Becker because he claims the weight of the company’s headquarters is causing subsidence on his land.’

  ‘Oh, and is it?’ Samantha asked him interestedly.

  ‘Hard to say, but certainly it’s a topic which arouses an awful lot of emotions. It’s the classic story of the old guard being suspicious of the new incomers. The case had been given a lot of local publicity. Aarlston has an image to maintain of a socially aware and ecologically sound organisation so, in the end, to protect that image they may have to opt for a one-off payment to the farmer. His land is over a mile away but he maintains that because of the interlinking network of mines and tunnels beneath the ground, the weight of the Aarlston building is being reflected in land subsidence some distance away.’

  ‘Mmm...sounds like a try-on to me,’ Samantha pronounced.

  ‘Mmm...indeed,’ James conceded, returning the laughing smile Samantha was giving him, his gaze lingering for just a shade longer than was merely cousinly on her face.

  A small sensation of happy warmth curled up through

  Samantha’s body. Coming to England had quite definitely been the right decision. What she would give to have Cliff witness that look she had just seen in James’s eyes.

  They would make the most beautiful babies together. Samantha gave a small contented sigh.

  How thoughtful of fate to give her plans an active boost like this. Keeping her voice carefully neutral she told James, ‘With her pregnancy and everything Bobbie has her hands pretty full at the moment...’

  Deliberately she affected a small downcast sigh. ‘I was so looking forward to seeing a bit more of the area, too, and of catching up with the rest of the family.’

  ‘Well, if you need an escort I’d be more than happy to offer my services,’ James responded gallantly.

  Samantha produced a slightly self-conscious look, flapping her eyelashes and exclaiming, ‘Oh, James, would you...? That would be so kind, although I didn’t mean...’

  ‘It would be my pleasure,’ James assured her fervently.

  She really wasn’t behaving very well at all, Samantha reflected a little guiltily, but it was for the very best of causes and if she hadn’t sensed that James liked her...

  They were just outside Chester now and Samantha could feel the excitement starting to bubble up inside her. She was so looking forward to being with Bobbie. She gave an exultant sigh and closed her eyes. What would Liam make of Chester, she wondered. He would be impossibly well informed about its long history, of course, with every fact and figure at his fingertips, and whilst she fantasised about the romanticism of its history, he would no doubt insist on bringing her down to earth by reminding her of the savagery and bloodshed it must have known.

  Angrily Samantha opened her eyes. Liam! Why on earth was she thinking about him? Just because he had kissed her? Just because she...

  ‘Are you okay?’ James was asking her, sensing the tension, his forehead creased in concern.

  ‘I’m fine,’ Samantha assured him, but somehow it felt as though a small cloud had been cast over the exultation she had felt earlier. It was stupid of her to compare the warm, affectionate, almost brotherly touch of James’s lips to the hard, pulse-dizzying possession of Liam’s, and why was she doing it anyway? Liam’s kiss hadn’t meant anything to her.

  Not cerebrally maybe, but her body had certainly responded to it—to him.

  An accident; an aberration, a faulty bit of sexual programming, that was all that had been.

  ‘You’ve gone quiet. Are you tired?’ James asked her solicitously.

  ‘A mite jet-lagged I guess,’ Samantha agreed, gratefully seizing on the excuse he had given her for her lapse in concentration. James was so wonderfully caring and considerate.

  ‘We’re here now,’ he told her as he swung his small sporty car in through a pair of high wrought-iron gates which opened automatically for them.

  The builders who had renovated and converted the large Victorian house into apartments had taken great care to maintain the original facade and to provide well-secured grounds around it. An immaculate expanse of gravel swept round to the front of the building. No parking bays had been marked out on it but James informed Samantha drolly that there was a definite parking spot for each apartment and woe betide anyone who parked in the wrong place.

  ‘I think if he could get away with it Dad would impose “on the spot” fines on unwitting miscreants parking in the wrong place,’ he told her ruefully.

  ‘It’s a magnificent house,’ Samantha enthused, automatically reaching for the passenger door handle of the car, but before she could swing it open James was out of the car, sprinting round to the door to open it for her.

  There was always a certain formality and protocol attached to being a member of the Governor’s family but Samantha couldn’t remember the last time a date had proved so solicitous towards her.

  From its elevated position on the banks of the Dee the house overlooked the river itself and the countryside beyond it and Samantha could well appreciate why James’s parents had wanted to move here.

  ‘With none of us left at home Ma was finding the house far too large and with three storeys, each with a flight of stairs, it made sense to move to somewhere more easily manageable.’

  As he spoke, James was guiding Samantha towards the main entrance to the building.

  A special security card was needed to gain entrance into the inner hallway, coolly elegant in cream marble and illuminated with an enormous crystal chandelier.

  ‘It’s this way,’ James told her, indicating a pair of handsome carved doors on the left and going up to them to press the bell.

  Almost immediately the door was opened by James’s mother. Although Patricia Crighton was a very attractive-looking woman, it was from their father that Luke and James had inherited their striking dark good looks.

  ‘Samantha, my dear, do come in,’ Patricia Crighton greeted her, kissing Samantha warmly on the cheek.

  The drawing room the older woman took Samantha to was filled with the elegant antiques Samantha remembered from their previous home. There was, she noticed, a very recent photograph of her twin sister with her husband Luke and their little girl amongst the other family photographs on top of the elegant Queen Anne side table.

  ‘Is Dad here? I’ve got those papers he asked me for,’ James said to his mother.

  ‘He’s in his study, darling,’ she responded, adding, ‘Oh, and by the way, we’ve got a visitor.’ She stopped, giving James a rather wary look, and then the drawing room door opened to admit her husband and a young woman who Samantha did not recognise.

  ‘Rosemary, what the devil are you doing here?’ she heard James demanding sharply, the antagonism so very evident in his voice and his demeanour that Samantha looked at him in surprise. Suddenly he looked and sounded so very much more like his elder brother, so very forcibly a Crighton, and it was obvious from his expression what his
feelings were for the girl who had just walked into the room. What on earth had she done to make James, of all people, dislike her so much? Samantha wondered curiously.

  Small and red-headed, she had a neat triangular-shaped face with high cheek-bones and huge amber-flecked golden eyes. Although she was wearing jeans and a T-shirt there was no disguising the rounded voluptuousness of her figure. Her waist was tiny, Samantha noticed, so small that she guessed a man could easily span it with his hands.

  ‘Rosemary, my dear,’ James’s mother was beginning but the girl wasn’t paying any attention to her, instead she was concentrating wholly and completely on James, fixing him with a fulminating look of bitter hostility.

  ‘Oh, it’s all right, Aunt Pat,’ she announced with an angry toss of her head. ‘Far be it from me to point out that since this isn’t James’s house he doesn’t really have any right to question my presence here. Your mother has invited me to come and stay with her, James,’ she added, baring her teeth in a smile that made Samantha think of an angry and dangerous little cat.

  ‘Rosemary needed a break,’ James’s mother was saying palliatively. ‘She’s worked so hard for her finals and now that she’s qualified...’

  ‘Qualified?’ James interrupted sharply. ‘God help anyone who needs...who’s desperate enough to need your medical expertise, Rosemary. Personally I’d sooner...’

  ‘James,’ his mother commanded warningly.

  Two brilliant coins of hot colour were now burning in the girl’s creamy pale skin and her eyes... Samantha grimaced a little as she studied their furious molten heat. Small she might be, but there was no mistaking the ferocity of her emotions.

  ‘Rosemary has just finished her medical training and qualified as a GP,’ James’s mother informed Samantha gently. ‘And since I’m her godmother I felt that her hard work and dedication deserved rewarding with a small treat, especially since her fiancé Tim is going to be working abroad all summer.’

  As James’s mother spoke Rosemary lifted her hand, showing off the diamond ring she was wearing, the look she gave James a mixture of defiance and triumph.

  ‘You see, James,’ she told him, ‘not all men share your opinion of me.’

  ‘You’re engaged!’ It was plain to see how shocked James was. ‘What a masochist!’

  ‘James!’ Pat Crighton expostulated sharply.

  Grimly James turned towards his father.

  ‘A small treat.’ James picked up on what his mother had said. ‘So you’ve invited her to stay here for a few weeks...’ His voice was full of disgust.

  ‘Here are the papers you asked me for,’ he said to his father, turning his back on his mother and Rosemary.

  ‘We must go,’ he informed them all. ‘Bobbie is expecting us and Samantha’s beginning to feel a little jet-lagged.’

  ‘It’s probably something to do with a lack of oxygen,’ Rosemary chipped in in mock sympathy, something about the acid sweetness of her voice causing Samantha to focus on her more closely. When she did so the outright hostility in the other girl’s eyes startled her.

  ‘Rosemary...’ she could hear James beginning warningly, but it was becoming clear to Samantha that the redhead had as reckless a hot temper and an emotionally driven streak as her hair colour suggested because she deliberately ignored him and continued.

  ‘It can’t be easy inhabiting such a rarefied atmosphere...or being so tall...’

  Samantha’s eyes widened a little. The other girl’s hostility totally perplexed her but cat fights had never been her style...even so...

  ‘Mmm...but it does have its compensations,’ she drawled in her best and most laid-back American voice, turning from the girl to James, who was standing protectively by her side.

  If she stood up on her toes they were almost exactly shoulder to shoulder, face to face, lips to lips.

  Very deliberately Samantha looked into James’s eyes and then allowed her glance to slide downward to his mouth before touching her tongue tip to her own upper lip.

  ‘Er... I think we’d better leave,’ James announced thickly.

  Samantha permitted herself a languorous look of superiority in the direction of Rosemary and then checked it as she saw not just bitter fury in the girl’s eyes but the hot glimmer of tears, as well.

  Tears? For James? But she was wearing another man’s ring. Thoughtfully Samantha said goodbye to James’s parents and followed him out to the car.

  ‘I don’t know what on earth’s possessed my mother to invite Rosemary to stay,’ James was fuming as he started his car’s engine.

  ‘They obviously get on well together and since Rosemary is her goddaughter...’

  ‘Rosemary is a menace...a...’ James said. ‘But my mother can’t or won’t see it.’

  ‘She’s very pretty,’ Samantha offered, trying another tack.

  ‘Pretty...’ James stared at her. ‘She was a red-haired brat with freckles.’

  ‘Mmm...well, she’s still red-haired,’ Samantha agreed.

  ‘She used to come and stay with us during the school holidays. Her parents worked abroad and she was at boarding school.’

  ‘You didn’t get on with her?’ Samantha guessed.

  ‘...and the rest,’ James agreed. ‘She really was the most loathsome little pest. “I’ll tell Aunt Pat...”’ he mimicked and then shook his head. ‘I know you must think I’m overreacting but she really used to get under my skin.’

  He wasn’t drawing a very attractive picture of the other girl and given her unwarranted and unprovoked malicious comment to herself, Samantha might have agreed with him but for those unexpected tears. Rosemary’s feelings for James were no concern of hers, Samantha reminded herself, and since she had her own plans for James’s future...and since Rosemary herself was engaged... Even so she couldn’t help wishing that she hadn’t seen those tears, that she hadn’t for that brief pulse of time felt the other girl’s distress.

  * * *

  ‘COME ON THEN, give me all the news about the family,’ Bobbie urged her twin.

  They were sitting in Bobbie’s comfortable kitchen, James having just left, whilst Francesca played busily around them.

  ‘There isn’t that much to tell that you don’t already know,’ Samantha protested. ‘Mom and Dad can’t wait to get over here to see you all...’

  ‘Mmm...I’m hoping to persuade them to spend more time over here when Dad retires. How’s Liam’s campaign going, by the way?’

  ‘Dad’s convinced he’ll walk it but there has been concern expressed over Liam not being married. He drove me to the airport. He was picking up a PR woman they’ve hired from Washington to project his image.’

  ‘Liam married, how will you feel about that?’ Bobbie teased her.

  Samantha shot her an indignant look.

  ‘Why should I care. Just because I once had a teenage crush on him...’

  ‘Okay, okay...I was just joking,’ Bobbie reassured her, but she still studied her twin a little thoughtfully.

  Samantha had lost some weight and she looked strained...stressed...

  ‘You know, Bobbie, I do envy you,’ Samantha admitted abruptly.

  Instinctively Bobbie looked to where Francesca was playing, knowing without it having to be put into words just what it was about her life that her twin envied.

  ‘You’re a born mother, Sam,’ she told her gently, her expression suddenly changing to one of acute alarm as she demanded, ‘You’re not thinking of going through with that fool idea you once had of becoming pregnant via a fertilization programme...’

  Samantha laughed.

  ‘No,’ she reassured her, her face sobering as she admitted, ‘I don’t want my kids growing up envying yours because yours have a real live daddy and mine don’t.’

  ‘So there isn’t a prospective daddy anywhere on the
horizon?’ Bobbie probed.

  Samantha looked away from her.

  ‘Samantha!’ Bobbie pounced excitedly. ‘There is someone...tell me... Who is it? Do I know him...? Sam...’

  ‘Oh, no... I’m not saying anything,’ Samantha told her, vehemently shaking her head.

  ‘I’m going to phone home,’ Bobbie threatened determinedly.

  ‘There isn’t any point, the folks don’t know any more than you do...’

  ‘So there is something to know then...’

  ‘No!’ Samantha denied.

  There was no way she intended to let Bobbie in on her plan to marry James until she was a lot more certain of her own ground. Sure she and James got on well together but... She could love him, Samantha was convinced of it, and he, she was equally sure, could love her.

  He would be a perfect father. She could see it all now. She closed her eyes blissfully, mentally imagining her own cosy homely kitchen and her own adorable children filling it. She wanted boys, she knew that already, boys with thick dark hair and solemn grey eyes... Grey eyes... Her own flew open. Now where, oh, where, had that idea come from? Firmly she recorrected her imagination. Her children, her twins, would have eyes the same colour as their father’s of course. They would have James’s brown eyes.

  Having finished her game, Francesca stood up and stalked imperiously towards her.

  ‘Did you bring me a present from my grandma in America?’ she asked her.

  ‘Francesca,’ Bobbie protested warningly.

  But Samantha only grinned and asked her twin dryly, ‘Wonder where she gets that from?’

  ‘Not from me,’ Bobbie denied, but her face was pink and she knew as clearly as though she had read Samantha’s mind that her twin was remembering an incident from their own childhood when she, Bobbie, had shamingly asked much the same question of their own grandfather.

  ‘Poor Mom was so mortified,’ Samantha teased her.

  ‘Not half so mortified as I was when she banished me upstairs to my room and I haven’t forgotten that you were the one who told me to ask,’ Bobbie said with heartfelt ruefulness.