by Anne Mather
‘You’re looking well,’ Jake said, his gaze running over her in a sweeping but all-encompassing glance. ‘Have you put on weight?’
Ashleigh pursed her lips for a moment before responding with a touch of tartness. ‘I see your idea of what constitutes a compliment is still rather twisted.’
One eyebrow rose and his mouth lifted in a small mocking smile. ‘I see you’re still as touchy as ever.’ His eyes dipped to her breasts for a moment before returning slowly to hers. ‘I think it suits you. You were always so bone-thin.’
‘It must have been the stress of living with you,’ she shot back before she could stop herself, reaching for her drink with an unsteady hand.
A tight little silence fell in the space between them.
Ashleigh felt like kicking herself for betraying her bitterness so unguardedly. She stared at a floating ice cube in her glass, wishing she was able to see Jake without it doing permanent damage to her emotional well-being.
‘You’re probably right,’ Jake said, a tiny frown settling between his brows and, as he took the stool beside her, lifted his hand to get the barman’s attention.
Ashleigh swivelled on her stool to stare at him. Was that regret she could hear in his tone?
She waited until he’d given the barman his order and his drink had arrived before speaking again.
‘My mother told me why you’re here.’
His gaze met hers but he didn’t answer. Something indefinable flickered in the depths of his coal-black eyes before he turned back to his drink and took a deep draught.
Ashleigh watched the up and down movement of his throat as he swallowed. He was sitting so close she could touch him but it felt as if there was an invisible wall around him.
‘Why did you tell me when we met that both your parents were dead?’ she asked when she could stand the silence no longer.
‘It seemed the easiest thing to say at the time.’
‘Yes, well, lying was always something that came very naturally to you,’ she bit out resentfully.
He turned to look at her, his darker-than-night eyes holding hers. ‘It might surprise you to hear this, but I didn’t like lying to you, Ashleigh. I just thought it was less complicated than explaining everything.’
Ashleigh stared at him as he took another sip of his drink, her heart feeling too tight, as if the space allocated for it had suddenly been drastically reduced. What did he mean—‘explain everything’?
She let another silence pass before she asked, ‘When did you arrive?’
‘A couple of weeks ago. I thought I’d wait until after the funeral to see if he left me anything in his will.’ He drained his glass and set it back down with a nerve-jangling crack on the bar in front of him.
There was a trace of something in his voice that suggested he hadn’t been all that certain of his father’s intentions regarding his estate. Ashleigh was surprised at how tempted she was to reach out and touch him, to offer him some sort of comfort for what he was going through. She had to hold on to her glass with both hands to stop herself from doing so, knowing he wouldn’t welcome it in the bitter context of their past relationship.
‘And did he?’ She met his eyes once more. ‘Leave you anything?’
A cynical half smile twisted his mouth as his eyes meshed with hers. ‘He left me everything he didn’t want for himself.’
She had to look away from the burning heat of his eyes. She stared down at the slice of lemon in her glass. ‘It must be very hard for you…just now.’
Jake gave an inward grimace as he watched her toy with her straw, her small neat fingers demonstrating her unease in his company.
The hardest thing he’d ever had to do was to look her up that afternoon. His pride, his damned pride, had insisted he was a fool for doing so, but in the end he’d overridden it for just one look at her.
When he’d seen her mother at the house he’d considered waiting for however long it took for Ashleigh to return, but sensing Mrs Forrester’s discomfiture had reluctantly left. He hadn’t been entirely sure she would have even told Ashleigh of his call. He could hardly blame her, of course. No doubt Ashleigh had told her family what a pig-headed selfish bastard he’d been to her all the time they’d been together.
But he had to see her.
He had to see her to remind himself of what he’d thrown away.
‘Yes…it’s not been easy,’ he admitted, staring into his empty glass.
He felt her shift beside him and had to stop himself from turning to her and hauling her into his arms.
She looked fantastic.
She’d grown into her body in a way few women these days did. Her figure had pleased him no end in the past, but now it was riper, more womanly, her softer curves making him ache to mould her to him as he had done in the past.
If only they had just met now, without the spectre of their previous relationship dividing them. But it wasn’t their past that had divided them—it had been his. And it was only now that he was finally coming to terms with it.
‘Your mother looks the same,’ he said, sending her another quick glance, taking in her ringless fingers with immeasurable relief.
‘Yes…’
‘How is your father?’
‘Retired now,’ Ashleigh answered. ‘Enjoying being able to play with…er…’
Jake swung his gaze back to hers at her sudden vocal stall. ‘Golf?’
Ashleigh clutched at the sudden lifeline with relief. ‘Yes… golf. He plays a lot of golf.’
‘I always liked your dad,’ he said, looking back at his empty glass again.
The undisguised warmth in his statement moved her very deeply. Ashleigh’s family had come over to London for Christmas the second year she’d been living with Jake, and she had watched how Jake had done his best to fit in with her family. When he hadn’t been hiding away at work he’d spent a bit of time with her father, choosing his company instead of the boisterous and giggling presence of her younger sisters, Mia and Ellie, and her trying-too-hard mother. She had been touched by his effort to include himself in her family’s activities, his tall, somewhat aloof, presence often seeming out of place and awkward amidst the rough and tumble of the family interactions that she had always taken for granted.
‘How are your sisters?’ he asked after another little pause.
A small smile of pride flickered on her mouth. ‘Mia is trying her best to get into acting, with some limited success. She was a pot plant in a musical a month ago; we were all incredibly proud of her. And Ellie…Well, you know Ellie.’ Her expression softened at the thought of her adopted youngest sister. ‘She is still the world’s biggest champion for the underdog. She works part-time in a café and spends every other available minute at a dogs’ home as a volunteer.’
‘And what about you?’ Jake asked, looking at her intently.
‘Me?’ She gave him a startled look, her pulses racing at the intensity of his dark eyes as they rested on her face. His smile had softened his normally harsh features, the simple upward movement of his lips unleashing a flood of memories about how that mouth had felt on hers…
‘Yes, you,’ he said. ‘What are you doing with yourself these days?’
‘I…’ She swallowed and tried to appear unfazed by his question. ‘Not much.’ She twirled her straw a couple of times and continued. ‘I work as a buyer for an antique dealer.’ She pushed her glass away and met his eyes again. ‘Howard Caule Antiques.’
He gestured to the barman to refresh their drinks, taking his time to turn back to her to respond. ‘I’ve heard of him.’ He picked up his glass as soon as it was placed in front of him. ‘What’s he like to work for?’
For some reason Ashleigh found it difficult to meet his eyes with any equanimity. She moistened her lips, her stomach doing a funny little somersault when she saw the way his eyes followed the nervous movement of her tongue.
‘He’s…he’s nice.’
Damn it! She chided herself as she saw the way Jake’s lip instantly curled.
Why couldn’t she have thought of a better adjective than that?
‘A nice guy, huh?’
She had to look away. ‘Yes. He’s also one of my closest friends.’
‘Are you sleeping with him?’
Her eyes flew back to his, her cheeks flaming for the second time that day. ‘That’s absolutely no business of yours.’
He didn’t respond immediately, which made her tension go up another excruciating notch. She watched him as he surveyed her with those dark unreadable eyes, every nerve in her body jumping in sharp awareness at his proximity.
She could even smell him.
Her nostrils flared to take in more of that evocative scent, the combination of full-blooded-late-in-the-day active male and his particular choice of aftershave that had always reminded her of sun-warmed lemons and exotic spices.
‘My my my, you are touchy, aren’t you?’ he asked, the mocking smile still in place.
She set her mouth and turned to stare at the full glass in front of her, wishing herself a million miles away.
She couldn’t do this.
She couldn’t be calm and cool in Jake Marriott’s presence. He unsettled her in every way possible.
‘I’m not being touchy.’ Her tone was brittle and on edge. ‘I just don’t see what my private life has to do with you…now.’
His continued silence drew her gaze back as if he’d pulled it towards him with invisible strings.
‘Ashleigh…’ He reached out to graze her cheek with the back of his knuckles in a touch so gentle she felt a great wave of emotion swamp her for what they’d had and subsequently lost.
She fought her feelings down with an effort, her teeth tearing at the inside of her mouth as she held his unwavering gaze.
‘I’d like to see you again while I’m here in Sydney,’ he said, his deep voice sounding ragged and uneven. ‘I’m here for a few weeks and I thought we could—’ he deliberately paused over the words ‘—catch up.’
Ashleigh inwardly seethed. She could just imagine what he meant by catching up; a bit of casual sex to fill in the time before he left the country to go back to whoever was waiting for him back in London.
‘I can’t see you.’
His eyes hardened momentarily and his hand fell away. ‘Why not?’
She bit her lip, hunting her brain for the right words to describe her relationship with Howard.
‘Is there someone else?’ he asked before she could respond, his eyes dipping to her bare fingers once more.
She drew in a tight breath. ‘Yes…yes there is.’
‘You’re not wearing a ring.’
She gave him an ironic look and clipped back, ‘I lived and slept with you for two whole years without needing one.’
Jake shifted slightly as he considered her pert response. Her cheeks were bright with colour, her eyes flashing him a warning he had no intention of heeding.
He knew it bordered on the arrogant to assume that no one had taken his place after four and a half years, but he’d hoped for it all the same. His own copybook wasn’t too pristine, of course; he’d replaced her numerous times, but not one of his subsequent lovers had affected him the way Ashleigh had, and, God help him, still did.
‘What would you say if I told you I’ve had a rethink of a few of my old standpoints?’ he asked. ‘That I’d changed?’
Ashleigh got to her feet and, rummaging in her purse, placed some money on the counter for her drink, her eyes when they returned to his like twin points of angry blue flame.
‘I’d say you were four and a half years too late, Jake Marriott.’ She hoisted her bag back on her shoulder. ‘I have to go. I have someone waiting for me.’
She turned to leave but one of his hands came down on her wrist and turned her round to face him. She felt the velvetcovered steel bracelet of his fingers and suppressed an inward shiver of reaction at feeling his warm flesh on hers once more.
‘Let me go, Jake.’ Her voice came out husky instead of determined, making her hate him for affecting her so.
He rose to his full height, his body within a whisper of hers. She felt as if she couldn’t breathe, for if she so much as drew in one small breath her chest would expand and bring her breasts into contact with the hard wall of his chest. Dark eyes locked with blue in a battle she knew she was never going to win, but she had to fight regardless.
‘I can’t see you, Jake,’ she said in a tight voice. ‘I am engaged to be married.’ She took another shaky breath and added, ‘To my boss, Howard Caule.’
She saw the sudden flare of heat in his eyes at the same time the pressure of his fingers subtly increased about her wrist.
‘You’re not married yet,’ he said, before dropping her wrist and stepping back from her.
Ashleigh wasn’t sure if his statement was a threat or an observation. She didn’t stay around to find out. Instead, she turned on her heel and stalked out of the bar with long purposeful strides that she hoped gave no hint of her inner distress.
Jake watched her go, his chest feeling as if some giant hand had just plunged between his ribs and wrenched out his heart and slapped it down on the bar next to the ten dollar note she’d placed beside her untouched drink…
CHAPTER TWO
ASHLEIGH drove back to her parents’ house with her bottom lip between her teeth for the entire journey.
It had hurt to see Jake again.
It had hurt her to hear his voice, to see his hands grip his glass—the hands that had once caressed her and with his very male body brought her to the highest pinnacle of human pleasure.
It had hurt to see his mouth tilt in a smile—the mouth that had kissed her all over but had never once spoken of his love.
Damn it! It had hurt to turn him down, but what other choice did she have? She could hardly pick up where they’d left off. How could she, with the secret of Lachlan’s existence lying between them? Jake had made it clear he never wanted to have children. She could hardly tap him on the shoulder and announce, By the way, here is your son. Don’t you think he looks a bit like you?
‘Mummee!’ Lachlan rushed towards her as soon as she opened the door, throwing his little arms around her middle and squeezing tightly.
‘Hey, why aren’t you in bed?’ She pretended to frown down at him.
His chocolate-brown eyes twinkled as he looked up at her. ‘Grandad promised me I could show you what we caught first.’
She looked up at her father, who had followed his young grandson out into the hall. ‘Hi, Dad. Good day at the bay?’
Heath Forrester grinned. ‘You should have seen the ones we let get away.’
Ashleigh smiled and stood on tiptoe to plant a soft kiss on his raspy cheek. ‘Thanks,’ she said, her one word speaking a hundred for her.
Heath turned to Lachlan. ‘Go and get our bounty out of the fridge while I have a quick word with your mum.’
Lachlan raced off, the sound of his footsteps echoing down the hall as Heath turned to his eldest daughter. ‘How was Jake?’
‘He was…’ she let out a little betraying sigh ‘…Jake.’
‘What did he want?’
‘I got the distinct impression he wanted to resume our past relationship—temporarily.’
Her father’s bushy brows rose slightly. ‘Same old Jake then?’
She gave him a world-weary sigh. ‘Same old Jake.’
‘You didn’t tell him about Lachlan?’
Ashleigh hunted her father’s expression for the reproach she privately dreaded, but found none and was immensely grateful for it.
‘No…’She inspected her hands for a moment. ‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Howard called while you were out.’ Heath changed the subject tactfully. ‘He said something about taking you out to dinner. I told him you’d call but if you want me to put him off I can always—’
Ashleigh forced her mouth into a smile and tucked her arm through one of his. ‘Why don’t we go and look at that fish first?’
‘What a good
idea,’ he said and led her towards the kitchen.
An hour later Lachlan was fast asleep upstairs and Ashleigh made her way downstairs again, only to be halted by her sister Mia who had not long come in from an actors and performers’ workshop.
‘Is it true?’ Mia ushered her into the study, out of the hearing of the rest of the Forrester family. ‘Is Jake really back in Sydney?’
Ashleigh gave a single nod. ‘Yes…he’s back.’
Mia let out a very unladylike phrase. ‘Have you told him about Lachlan?’ she asked.
Ashleigh shook her head. ‘No…’
Mia’s eyes widened. ‘What are you doing? Of course he has to know now that he’s back.’
‘Listen, Mia. I’ve already had this sort of lecture from Mum, so I don’t need another one from you.’
Mia held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. ‘Hey, don’t get all shirty with me, but have you actually listened to that kid of yours lately? All he ever talks about is dad stuff.’
Ashleigh frowned. ‘What do you mean?’
Mia gave her a sobering look. ‘I read him a story the other night when you were out with Howard. You know, the one about the elephant with the broken trunk who was looking for someone to fix it? Lachlan kept on and on about how if he could find his real dad he was sure he would be able to fix everything. How cute, but how sad, is that?’
Ashleigh turned away, her hands clenching in tension. ‘I can’t deal with this right now. I have enough to think about without you adding to it.’
‘Come on, Ash,’ Mia said. ‘What’s to think about? Jake has come home to Sydney and he should be told the truth. It’s not like you can hide it from him. One close look at that kid and he’s going to see it for himself.’
Ashleigh felt the full force of her sister’s words like a blow to her mid-section. Lachlan was the spitting image of his father. His darker-than-night eyes, his long rangy limbs, his black hair that refused to stay in place, his temper that could rise and fall with the weight of a timely smile or gentle caress…
The doorbell sounded and Ashleigh turned and walked down the hall to answer it rather than continue the conversation with her sister.
