Chained Reaction

by Boroughs PublishingGroup

  Chained Reaction

  Lynne King

  Copyright 2013 Lynne King

  Smashwords Edition

  Chained Reaction

  Five years ago, a prison sentence took away Jamie and Lucy’s happy ever after.

  Today they’ll start getting it back.

  Chained Reaction

  Lynne King

  www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

  CHAINED REACTION

  Copyright © 2013 Lynne King

  All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

  Digital edition created by Maureen Cutajar

  www.gopublished.com

  ISBN 978-1-938876-62-2

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Begin Reading

  Author Bio

  Chained Reaction

  Lucy stood by the window watching the rain trickling down the glass. Michael’s plane should be landing now, if he had been truthful about his destination. He hadn’t told her the name of the hotel in New York, but then she never asked.

  The phone started ringing. Reaching out for the receiver, her gaze remained on the scene outside, a rainbow now arching over the horizon.

  “Hello,” her despondent tone echoed her mood.

  “Lucy, is that you?”

  “Jamie!” Leaning against the cool pane, the pleasurable shiver took her by surprise. She had tried to envisage this moment for so long, what she would feel and how she would react. Hearing his voice again was a fantasy that she’d clung to through each day.

  Reality was that she never thought she would hear him speak her name again.

  Her throat was dry and she wanted him to say more, but he was waiting for her. She took a deep breath and allowed the words out slowly. “When did you get out?”

  “Yesterday. Early release on account of my good behaviour. Hard to believe, wouldn’t you say?”

  He sounded so distant and Lucy felt at a loss as to what to say next. There was so much, but nothing she could put into words, not yet anyway.

  “Are you okay?” Stupid question, she knew, but for the moment accusations and recriminations no longer mattered. Hearing his voice again with its faint Irish twang was what she had longed for, prayed for, and she wanted to savour it. He was in her thoughts day and night and all she longed to hear was confirmation that nothing had changed between them.

  Instead his voice was tinged with a bitterness she had known would be there. “I managed to survive for four years and sixty-five days living like a caged animal but otherwise from that, I’m fine. Is he there with you?”

  “If you’re referring to Michael, he’s in New York for the weekend, on business.” She wanted to add that Michael combined business with pleasure and made no secret of it, but what was the point. The mistake had been hers to move in with him in the first place, especially when she knew it wasn’t done out of love.

  “Didn’t take you long to return to him. He always said you would and for once he was right.”

  She felt the accusation in his voice, evidence that he still cared. With it came the feeling of hope that it wasn’t over between them. “It’s not how it looks. Michael’s been good to me.”

  “Are you happy?”

  “I knew happiness once and it broke my heart so now I’m making do.” She squeezed her eyelids shut fighting back the sorrow.

  He released a long sigh. “I’m sorry for what I said earlier. I just wish it wasn’t him. You deserve so much better. Far more than I could ever offer.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from asking now, after so many unanswered questions and so much pain and for what? “Why, Jamie?” Just because he thought she deserved better? She’d loved him and was willing to wait for him and for that he’d turned his back on her. “Why did you refuse my visits and return all my letters?”

  “I had nothing to give you.”

  She wanted to scream the truth at him but she was afraid. What if he knew all along and didn’t want the added responsibility? It couldn’t be said, not like this over the phone. She had to see him face to face, only then would she know for sure. “Where are you now?”

  The silence told her he was nearby. She could hear the rain mixed in with the steady sound of his breathing and something else. Yes, she recognised the background sounds. The distinctive chime of the Victorian town clock was her confirmation. He was outside their local railway station.

  “I’ll be there in ten minutes. Don’t forsake me again, Jamie.”

  Finally he spoke. “Is that a good idea, Lucy? Nothing has changed, I’m still the bastard who let you down and will do it again.” The warm masculine tone promised her nothing and yet drew her in like a moth to a flame.

  “You rang me, remember. Maybe you’re having trouble keeping to that promise.” She pressed disconnect on her phone.

  Pulling her long, fair hair free from the severe bun she wore, her fingers teased the strands and then it was off with her jeans and T-shirt. She left the items where they had fallen, such was her hurry, fearful that the longer she took, the bigger the chance he would leave. That tingling anticipation was back. Only one man was capable of arousing it. Over her black lace silk bra and panties she slipped on a red shift dress, kept her legs bare and discarded her usual pumps for three-inch heels.

  Crossing the vast hallway to the door opposite, she hesitated before opening it. She then stepped into a room adorned with pink and white elephants on the wall and matching curtains. Lucy felt a different pull of love rise through her as her eyes glanced down at the mop of dark curls.

  “Mummy,” A beaming four-year-old scrambled to her feet and rushed up to Lucy, holding up a sheet of paper with fiery colours etched across it. “Look what I’ve drawn for you. It’s a rainbow.”

  Lucy blinked away the wetness and knelt down to her daughter. “That’s beautiful, darling. Mummy’s got to go out and might not be back in time for your bedtime. Susie will put you to bed and read a story. You will be good for her, won’t you?” She could hear Susie’s footsteps coming up the creaking oak staircase and waited for her to join them.

  Susie’s Scandinavian features showed surprise and her voice revealed her curiosity. “You look very nice. Are you going anywhere special?”

  “Thank you, Susie, and yes I’m going into London to see a show with a friend.” How easy the lie could slip out but she felt no shame or guilt. She smiled at her daughter and blew her another kiss.

  Leaving the two of them, Lucy guessed the nanny was probably suspicious. It wasn’t as if Lucy made a habit of going out all afternoon and evening and always insisted putting her daughter to bed herself. No doubt Susie would report back to Michael, seeing as she had been employed by him against Lucy’s wishes.

  Climbing into her silver BMW, Lucy glanced up in time to see a shadow move away from
the window in her daughter’s bedroom. Yes, Susie would report back to Michael. Lucy felt maybe it was what she wanted, for Michael to question her about where and whom had she been with. She wouldn’t lie, couldn’t, and as for hurting him, it was time to put an end to it. As for how he might react, there was no telling with Michael.

  Five minutes of driving and she was on the main road into the wealthy hamlet nestling beside the river Thames and passing the grand Victorian town hall with its clock tower that chimed regularly on the hour until midnight. The rain was easing off allowing the July sun to win through and bringing out Saturday afternoon shoppers. Humidity hung in the air causing a light mist.

  She saw him before he glanced in her direction. Leaning up against a wall outside the town’s train station, his face was pointing up toward the sky. He had no umbrella or jacket, his black T-shirt was plastered to his chest. Low-slung, dark jeans moulded around hard thigh muscles. Lifting up a hand, his fingers swept back dark strands of hair that dripped from his forehead.

  Lucy felt her breath leave her body. The physical attraction had not wavered; not from the moment when she had first laid eyes upon him. She remembered it so clearly, the group of them all cheering as an unknown band won the crowd over at a local rock festival. The music was wild, the words revolutionary and the lead vocalist, sex on legs. Michael had been so bad-tempered that day, accusing her of acting like a tramp.

  She proved him right in the end.

  When someone had remarked wasn’t it Michael’s Irish cousin, Jamieson O’Sullivan up there on stage, the reason for Michael’s moodiness became all too clear. This was the orphaned relative that Michael felt nothing but jealousy and resentment for. Why had never made sense, seeing Michael was the one with the privileged background, university paid for by his wealthy parents and a guaranteed position in his father’s company.

  What Michael saw in her didn’t make sense either. They were such opposites and her background had more in common with Jamie’s. So when she ended the relationship with Michael and started hanging around with the cousin six months after first setting eyes upon him, the rift between Michael and Jamie deepened.

  She pulled the car up near to him and opened the passenger door. He stepped forward and bent down to look through the open door at her. His gaze told her she had chosen the right dress. He had always liked her in red and had once said in jest that he wanted her married in a red bridal gown and he would wear a purple tuxedo. It was the one and only time he had mentioned marriage between them.

  Throwing his haversack into the rear, he climbed in next to her. Lucy turned her face to his. His mouth rose at the corners whilst dark eyes locked onto hers. There was silence. She could feel her heart racing and had to grip the wheel, tearing her gaze away at the same time.

  “I think we know where this is heading, Lucy. I should get out of this car now, grab a taxi and be gone from here. We don’t need to do this.”

  She took a deep breath and turned toward him, placing her hand on his thigh, and with the other, cupping the side of his face. “You once said you live for the day and never think of the tomorrow because it might never come. Well I’m tired of waiting for my tomorrow.”

  For a moment the intensity in his hazel eyes felt almost threatening and then she felt his palm come up hard behind her neck pulling her face forward. Their lips came together and as if by doing so they were breathing life back into bodies that had been deprived of all feeling.

  With the crushing and powerful kiss, Lucy felt everything swept away, Michael, her sacrifice, what she had become, it was all gone. All she could think about was this moment and for it to never end. She felt his smooth caressing touch travelling up her bare legs, fingers slipping round to her inner thigh. Her body was sliding down further into the leather upholstery as her own fingers drove up and under his wet T-shirt, her fingertips pressing into the smooth hard shoulder muscle.

  Finally he released her and she sank back into the seat, breathless and on fire. Her body craved his touch whilst her mind longed for his love. She couldn’t separate the two. One without the other would never be enough but his touch was all he was offering her.

  “Do you want me to drive?”

  Lucy moistened her lips with her tongue and took a small breath. “Do you want to end up back inside? Where are we going?”

  “The boathouse. It’s still mine, and Mary, my Uncle’s housekeeper, checks it out once a week so it should be habitable.”

  She didn’t need to ask him for directions and knew it hadn’t been sold or rented out. In the beginning she had sat outside in the car nearly every week remembering and reliving the passion the two of them had brought each other within those walls. The last couple of years the memories had become too painful to revisit and she had tried to stay away but it never lasted more than a month. Now he was real, beside her, and she could live for the moment.

  The rain had stopped and the sun was casting glistening patterns across the water’s surface. The weeping willows by the river bank swayed gently in the wind and a pair of ducks took to the sky as Jamie and she approached the timber structure built on stilts. The main bedroom actually hung over the water’s edge with French doors opening out to a wooden veranda, Jamie’s motorboat still moored directly below. His grandmother had left him the boathouse and a small inheritance, and she guessed that this was what he was using to carry on with its upkeep. Stepping onto the oak wooden flooring, hearing the familiar creaking and surrounded by the sparse furnishings consisting of the worn leather sofa and coffee table made out of driftwood, felt like she had stepped back five years. Only she hadn’t, this was now. Apprehension, fear that what they once had could never be recaptured crept up on her.

  Walking into the bedroom, she went over to the French doors, threw them wide open and breathed in the warm sultry air. She felt him come up behind her. The zip gently came to rest on the small of her back, his feathery touch proceeding to slide the silky garment off her shoulders, the dress floating down to the floor. His warm breath was upon her skin.

  “I’ve missed you so much,” he murmured throatily against the nape of her neck.

  Slowly she turned round to face him. Unclipping her bra, she allowed it to fall and join her dress. Swiftly she pulled down her panties and stepped out of them. She watched as he did the same with his clothing and now they stood silent and naked, their bodies a foot apart. To experience the feeling without touching was what she sought and found. The heat from his gaze was like a caress and the desire that emulated from it made Lucy feel faint with intoxication. She could almost sense his heart pounding through the rawness of his damp chest, and the aroma of his maleness filled the air.

  Within, she was on fire. She felt angry, mad that her body could betray her so when nothing had been resolved between them. Stepping forward, her hand came up and slapped him hard across the face, her fingers stinging from the force.

  He pulled her into his arms crushing her body hard against his.

  “How could you do it to us? I loved you but you cast aside everything as if I meant nothing to you.” She sobbed into his shoulder.

  His fingers gently stroked her hair. “I had to. It was the only way I could get through the years apart from you. If I had seen you, spoken to you, then each separation would have destroyed me bit by bit. I had to survive as well.”

  All afternoon they lay in each other’s arms, their naked bodies entwined, and each time they came together, the years apart diminished.

  Lucy leant up on one elbow and traced a pattern down his bronzed muscular chest. Though he had a natural swarthiness, his skin was darker as a result of recent sun exposure.

  “How come you are so tanned? I didn’t know sunbathing went on in prison,” she asked, her fingers playfully teasing him now.

  “The past year has been spent in an open prison. It allows a glimpse of what freedom can be as long as I stick by the rules. Been taking several horticultural courses to fill my time and passed a few exams so I was given the res
ponsibility of maintaining the grounds.”

  Lucy jumped up onto her knees and looked down at him. “That’s great.” She hesitated thinking what his words implied. “Don’t you get a chance for day releases at an open prison?”

  “Yeah, some do get offered it to see how they adjust to the outside world after being incarcerated for so long.” It was as if he could read her mind, his hand coming up behind her neck whilst his other hand went round her waist and he gently swung her down so that their bodies were once again entangled.

  “It’s not freedom; I was still a prisoner with time left to serve. As I said before, it wouldn’t have been fair. Besides, I had already received word that you were living with Michael.”

  “You haven’t asked me why?” She felt his hand slipping between her thighs, her body beginning to respond once again and knew if she didn’t draw back from him now, conversation would be lost. Disentangling herself and creating space between them allowed her to sit up once again and search his face for the truth.

  He was hiding something; the light coming through the open doors tracing dancing patterns across a face that looked troubled and tired.

  “Talk to me, Jamie, you owe me that much at least. You still act as if nothing you do has any consequences on others but you’re wrong. What am I to you?”

  * * *

  That same accusation had been thrown at him before. He closed his eyes as the memory took hold.

  “You want something, you get it and to hell with the consequences. Have you told Lucy about travelling around Europe for the next twelve months or were you going to send her a postcard?”

  He had opened the door to a very drunken Michael who was clutching a half empty bottle of whisky to him and from the disarray of his clothing looked as if he’d been sleeping rough for several days. Jamie glanced behind him; there was only his own car in the driveway so he guessed Michael had arrived on foot. He stood aside and allowed his cousin to stagger in.