That Devil Love

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by Lee Wilkinson


  ‘Awake?’ he asked, his hand beginning to fondle one of her beautiful, firm breasts.

  She made a small, indistinct sound, and froze.

  He knew immediately. Drawing back a little to look down at her, he said urgently, ‘Don’t let the past come between us, Annis. Don’t keep on fighting your own feelings.’

  It was no use fighting them, she knew and admitted the fact. While he still wanted her she was his for the taking. But the past would always come between them, and the inner turmoil, the conflict of loyalties, would sooner or later tear her apart.

  To her chagrin, tears filled her eyes and crept beneath her lashes.

  ‘Don’t cry,’ he whispered, cradling her blonde head against his chest. ‘Everything’s all right.’

  But it wasn’t.

  And with that sixth sense he had where she was concerned, Zan picked up her mental withdrawal, and knew that while her body was open to him her mind was closed.

  From that moment a chasm seemed to widen between them. Though they slept in the same bed, physically as close as two people could be, they no longer communicated. They made love with a wild, passionate intensity, but never met on any other level.

  Over the next few days, like a pair of polite strangers forced to share a house, they spoke only when it was necessary, and then stiltedly, as though the dialogue had been scripted for them.

  Zan went back to his office and, saying that he had a great deal to catch up on, worked all hours God sent.

  When Annis—who was feeling herself again—made it clear that instead of working for him she wanted to go back to running Help, Zan let her have her way. His only stipulations were that she should stick to the administrative side and, before she actually began work, get her doctor’s approval.

  Annis had an appointment to see Dr Roberts the following Monday when, on a cold, wet Friday morning, she discovered that her ‘pregnancy’ had been a false alarm.

  Zan was very late home that evening. Wondering what he’d say, she waited for him by the fire with mixed emotions.

  When she finally heard his key in the lock she put down the book she’d been trying to read, and made an effort to curb her agitation.

  He came through to the kitchen, one hand loosening the knot in his tie. With a touch of anxiety she saw he looked whacked, his lean face, with its chiselled planes and firm jaw, showed signs of strain. A dark stubble shadowed his cleft chin.

  Evidently surprised to see her, he said shortly, ‘I thought you’d be in bed.’

  ‘There’s something I wanted to talk to you about…’ All day she’d been planning how best to break it to him, but now she found herself just blurting it out. ‘I—I’m not having a baby after all…’

  If she’d been looking at him she would have seen his face tighten with a spasm of pain that was almost anguish.

  But her eyes on her clenched hands, all she was conscious of was a frigid silence.

  So what had she expected? she thought bitterly. That he’d be sad? Disappointed?

  She’d been both. Yet at the same time, knowing the circumstances were all wrong, relieved.

  Looking up now to find his expression a stony mask, she saw he didn’t care a jot. It just didn’t matter to him. Chilled to the bone by his non-reaction, she cried, ‘I wish I’d left the night I read that letter. I wish you hadn’t made me stay with you…’

  It seemed as though he was about to make some appeal but then, his hand dropping to his side, he agreed icily, ‘So do I,’ and turning on his heel, stalked out.

  She sat quite still, feeling as though she’d been stabbed through the heart.

  Physically they were still necessary to each other, but how could they go on living together with no other point of contact, and the past lying like a dark shadow between them?

  For a long time she remained staring into the dying embers of the fire. At length, not knowing what else to do, she went upstairs.

  Her whole body stiff, she moved slowly, laboriously, like someone who had been mortally wounded.

  Their bedroom was empty and so was the bathroom. As soon as she’d washed her face and cleaned her teeth, she crept shivering into bed.

  In spite of everything, she had wanted desperately to be near him, wanted him to hold her.

  After lying awake for hours in the dark, listening to the sound of silence, she faced the fact that he wasn’t going to come. All at once the tears welled up and she was weeping as though her heart would break. She cried for a long time. The first blackbird was singing a Te Deum and a grey dawn was lightening the sky before she fell into an uneasy doze.

  A tap at the door aroused her. As she propped herself up on one elbow, Mrs Matheson bustled in with a tray.

  If her sharp glance noted Annis’s ravaged face and the fact that she’d slept alone, the housekeeper made no comment, remarking only, ‘I’m away to see my sister. But as it’s nearly ten I thought I’d pop up first in case you weren’t feeling well.’

  ‘I’m fine, thank you,’ Annis managed. ‘Just lazy.’

  ‘Well, then, take your tea while it’s hot.’ Though Mary’s tone was brusque her eyes were compassionate.

  When the door had closed behind the Scotswoman’s sturdy figure, Annis, her mouth parched, drank two cups of tea gratefully.

  Then moving in what seemed to be slow motion, she showered and dressed, all the time wondering where Zan had got to. Wondering if he was all right.

  The morning looked cool and overcast, and a glance out of the window showed that a light rain was falling. Feeling lost and alone, she made herself a piece of toast and was sitting huddled by the kitchen fire eating it when the bell rang.

  Going reluctantly to the door, she found her visitor was Matt. Wearing a well-cut business suit, he looked taller, more serious than she’d ever seen him look.

  Though his blue Mercedes was parked only yards away the fine drizzle had already settled on his shoulders and dewed his smooth, dark hair.

  There was something about his handsome face, the way he was looking at her, that flustered her. ‘I’m afraid Zan’s out,’ she faltered.

  ‘I’m aware of that,’ he said briefly. ‘I’ve just left him.’

  She felt a quick relief. ‘Then he’s at the office?’

  ‘Didn’t you know?’

  ‘I wasn’t sure…’ Her words tailed off, and she found herself wondering what Matt was doing here when he knew Zan wasn’t home.

  As though reading her thoughts, he informed her, ‘It was you I wanted to see.’

  ‘Oh…’ She stared at him, completely at a loss.

  ‘Perhaps I could come in?’

  Flushing a little, she answered, ‘Of course,’ and turned towards the sitting-room.

  ‘The kitchen will do fine,’ he said.

  Wanting time to collect herself, she murmured, ‘I’ll make some coffee.’

  While she busied herself with the percolator, he strolled over to the window and stood for a minute looking out over the wet garden.

  A glance in his direction told her that whatever had brought him here clearly mattered. She could see the tautness in his neck and shoulders.

  Turning to face her, he asked abruptly, ‘What’s wrong between you and Zan?’

  ‘What makes you think there’s anything wrong?’

  ‘Have you looked at him lately?’ Matt demanded. ‘Don’t you realise what you’re doing to him? If he didn’t love you so damn much—’

  ‘He doesn’t love me,’ she broke in raggedly.

  Matt laughed incredulously. ‘Surely you don’t believe that? The man’s crazy about you… If he weren’t, you wouldn’t have such power to hurt him.’

  Such power to hurt him… The words seemed to echo inside her head, and suddenly she recalled Zan saying bleakly, ‘Love’s the very devil…’

  And it was! Good honest passion was relatively easy to cope with. It was love that tore one apart, that caused such torment and pain.

  ‘Don’t you think he’s hurt me?’ she
flared.

  After a critical look at her pallor, the mauve shadows beneath her eyes, the puffiness of her lids, he admitted, ‘You certainly don’t appear to have emerged unscathed. If it was merely a lovers’ tiff… But it’s more than that, isn’t it?’

  ‘I think you should ask him.’

  ‘I just did, and he told me to mind my own bloody business.’

  She lifted her chin, and meeting his gaze squarely, suggested, ‘Then maybe you should do that?’

  A glint of respect in his deep-set hazel eyes, he agreed, ‘Maybe I should. But I owe Zan a great deal, and I’ve no intention of standing idly by while he’s on the rack.’

  As they faced each other like antagonists, he went on, ‘I suppose you know he’s working himself into the ground?’

  ‘Being away so much, there was a lot to catch up on,’ she muttered defensively.

  Matt said a rude word under his breath. ‘Do you take me for an idiot? Zan’s always been able to delegate, and I’ve been on the spot to see that things kept running smoothly…’ Then, in exasperation, ‘What the hell are you doing to him, woman?’

  So he was blaming her for everything.

  She saw red. ‘You should be asking what he’s doing to me.’

  ‘Right, I’m asking… And it had better be good.’

  Sinking into a chair, Annis pressed her fingers to her temples for a moment, as if to help still the throbbing.

  Although she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel the impact of his waiting gaze right through her slender body.

  Raising her head, she said, ‘Oh, it’s good, all right… Perhaps you don’t know just how much he “helped” Linda and Richard?’

  When Matt looked blank, she went on bitterly, ‘As well as borrowing Mrs Sheldon, he arranged for a private nursing home for Linda, found them a house, created a better job for Richard…’

  When Matt continued to look blank, she added, ‘He also paid off their overdraft and all their other debts… And he did it solely to have a hold on me.’

  Dropping into the chair opposite, Matt frowned. ‘Are you trying to tell me he blackmailed you?’

  ‘I’m not trying, I am telling you. He threatened to “withdraw his support” if I didn’t marry him.’

  ‘You could have called his bluff. Told him to go to hell.’

  ‘That’s easy to say,’ she cried, ‘but I cared about Linda and Richard… So, though I hated him, I dared not chance it.’

  ‘I don’t believe you hated him,’ Matt told her bluntly. ‘You were uneasy when he broke the news of your forthcoming marriage, but there was absolutely no doubt about the chemistry between you.’

  Biting her lip, she admitted, ‘Perhaps I only wanted to hate him. Right from the start I knew there was an almost irresistible attraction.’

  Matt looked nonplussed. ‘Zan must have been aware of that, so why did he feel the need to use strong-arm tactics?’

  ‘I was fighting it. Determined not to get involved with the man I knew was responsible for destroying almost everything I cared about…’

  She swallowed hard, then went on, ‘You see, by some strange quirk of fate he’d been my mother’s lover.’

  Clearly taken aback, Matt echoed, ‘Your mother’s lover? Are you sure about that? Certain there’s no mistake?’

  Flatly, she said, ‘I’d seen them together. In any case he admitted the association, though he kept denying that he and Maya had been lovers… When he ended the affair she took an overdose, and on the day of her funeral my father killed himself.’

  Matt just stared at her, while every vestige of colour drained from his face, leaving him ashen.

  ‘I wanted to believe he hadn’t been her lover,’ Annis went on bleakly, ‘and I’d almost succeeded in convincing myself… Then by chance I read a letter which mentioned a weekend they’d spent together in the Cotswolds, and which made it clear that he’d lied.

  ‘Though I’ve come to accept that he wasn’t to blame for what happened to Maya—it was her own basic weakness—somehow I can’t forgive him for lying to me…’

  They sat like two figures of stone, the only sound and movement the rustle of a log setting in the grate.

  Then Matt stirred, and said with sombre certainty, ‘He wasn’t lying. Maya did spend a weekend in the Cotswolds, but the man with her wasn’t Zan, it was me.’

  ‘You!’

  A hard flush lying along his cheekbones, he went on doggedly, ‘At that time my marriage was going through a rough patch. Helen was having a difficult pregnancy with Lisa, and had been in the hospital for weeks. Mrs Sheldon had taken the two boys to Jersey to stay with my mother, and I was on my own…’

  Annis drew a deep, unsteady breath.

  His eyes dark with self-loathing, Matt said grimly, ‘You can’t blame me any more than I blame myself.’

  ‘How did you come to meet her?’ Annis asked, her voice just above a whisper.

  ‘We met in a restaurant, where we were both dining alone. I offered her a lift home, and she asked me to stay… I was a damned fool ever to get involved, but Maya was gay and beautiful, and I was hellish lonely.

  ‘When Zan found out he was livid. By that time I’d come to my senses and was trying to end the affair. But Maya didn’t want to let go. Though I’d never lied to her, she’d presumed a lot of things…

  ‘That was when Zan stepped in. He coped with all the hassle, and as a matter of expediency I was transferred temporarily to AP Worldwide’s set-up in Santa Clara.

  ‘It was only when I came home for Lisa’s birth that I heard Maya had died. I was sorry. In spite of everything she was oddly innocent, somehow childlike and pathetic…’

  The percolator began to bubble noisily. Like someone in a dream, Annis got to her feet and reached for two mugs.

  Matt stood up, shaking his head. ‘Not for me. I’ve got to go and talk to Helen.’

  ‘You’re not…?’

  ‘Don’t you think it’s about time she knew?’

  ‘No!’ Annis cried sharply. Then, more carefully, ‘Why do you think Zan didn’t tell me the truth…?’ Without pulling any punches, she went on, ‘I don’t believe he was protecting you. He was afraid of Helen getting hurt…afraid of your marriage breaking up.’

  ‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Matt admitted wryly.

  With a quiet authority, she suggested, ‘So for everyone’s sake let’s say it’s over and done with, best forgotten.’

  ‘Can you forget?’

  ‘I believe I can now I know what really happened.’ She looked at him with a level gaze. ‘Thank you for telling me. It couldn’t have been easy.’

  ‘I could hardly do less.’ He hesitated, then asked, ‘This will put things right between you and Zan?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she admitted honestly. ‘I hope so.’

  At the door he turned to say, ‘Try to forgive me. I’d like us to be friends.’

  The latch clicked behind him and all at once Annis began to tremble. She poured herself a coffee with unsteady hands and, sipping it, thought over all she knew.

  Everything fell into place like a jigsaw.

  She recalled her own first impression that the man in Maya’s life had been married. ‘Tall, dark, and handsome’, and ‘a top businessman’ fitted Matt just as well as Zan. And in Maya’s letter the short word that had been crossed out was almost certainly ‘wife’, followed by the more cautious, ‘When he’s dealt with some personal problems…’

  Gradually warmth replaced the agitation and she felt her spirits rise for the first time in days. Zan hadn’t lied to her, hadn’t been Maya’s lover. She hugged the thought to her like some priceless gift. All he’d done was try and protect his sister’s happiness…

  Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door closing. She jumped up eagerly as Zan walked in.

  His darkly handsome face looked drawn and weary, as though he hadn’t slept at all the previous night.

  She wanted to run to him, to put her arms around him and hold him
tight, but his air of cold aloofness kept her at bay.

  As she waited, hoping for some sign of softening, he said without preamble, ‘I’ve decided to give you a divorce as soon as possible.’

  Shock hit her, and she sank back into the chair, all her new-found gladness vanishing like swallows at the first sign of frost. ‘I thought you didn’t believe in divorce,’ she managed through stiff lips.

  ‘I don’t.’ A muscle knotted in his jaw. ‘But I should never have tried to force you to stay with me. You said we’d only make each other unhappy, and you were right.’ Tonelessly he added, ‘As of now you’re free to go. You can leave as soon as you like without affecting Richard in any way.’

  So it was all over. Even his obsession had died.

  Or had it been an obsession? Remembering how certain Matt had been that Zan loved her, she took heart and said boldly, ‘I don’t intend to leave. At least not unless you want me to go.’

  She heard the hiss of his indrawn breath, and just for a split-second glimpsed something in his face that gave her hope.

  Then all expression was wiped away and he informed her coldly, ‘I do want you to go. We can’t live like this, tearing each other apart. And now there’s no need for us to stay together…’

  Clinging to that thread of hope, she changed tack. ‘Tell me something… Why did you insist on me staying?’

  ‘You know why.’

  ‘Was it only because of the baby?’ When he sat down heavily without answering, she persevered, ‘Please Zan, tell me the truth.’

  He hesitated so long she thought her appeal had failed, before admitting, ‘I wanted you to stay. I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. The possibility that you might be pregnant came as a godsend. It provided a lever…

  ‘I still thought, hoped, that you might be able to put the past behind you and trust me. I was wrong. All I can do now is say I’m sorry, and try to make amends.’

  Careful of the words because the space between them was crammed with dangerous thoughts, she said quietly, ‘Matt was here earlier. He asked what was wrong between us, and I told him.’

  ‘He should have minded his own damn business,’ Zan exploded angrily.

 

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