The Cost of Her Innocence

by Jacqueline Baird

  ‘We had just got back from the hospital. I did not want to upset you and I certainly wasn’t going to argue with you. You did read the prenuptial agreement?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Beth didn’t get the connection.

  ‘Then you must know you have not fulfilled your part of the deal.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ From just feeling threatened Beth knew she was being threatened, and she received an answer that astounded her.

  ‘It states quite clearly that three years after the birth of our first child I will agree to give you a divorce if you so desire. As sadly we don’t have a child yet, I don’t have to give you anything—certainly not a divorce unless I want to, and right now I don’t want to.’

  ‘Are you telling me I have to get pregnant again?’ Beth exclaimed.

  ‘Hell, no. I am not that much of an ogre. Though it is something we could consider in the future.’

  Beth stood up, her green eyes flashing. ‘You and I don’t have a future together. We never did. I’m going to bed.’

  Dante had seen the angry sparkle in her eyes and knew he was getting through to her. ‘I’ll walk you to your room.’

  Where had she heard that before?

  Beth remembered and felt a slight flutter in her tummy—which wasn’t helped by Dante’s strong arm curving around her waist. The numbness that had protected her was fading fast, but she didn’t want to be aware of him again, and said, ‘You are hurting my back.’ She spun out of his arm and out through the door.

  Dante was going to follow her, but hesitated. She had suffered a traumatic shock with the miscarriage. He could wait until tomorrow. Because he had sensed when he held her the ice had broken. He was winning her over. He simply had to persevere a little longer.

  Beth undressed and got into bed, but she couldn’t sleep. She heard Dante walk upstairs and the door of his room open and close. She heaved a sigh of relief tinged with regret for what might have been if she had not lost her baby....

  By the time Beth crawled into bed on Thursday night she could no longer pretend she was immune to Dante. On Wednesday she had tried to avoid him by working in her study. But as the study looked out over the back garden she had caught sight of Dante, stripped to the waist, helping the builders. She had not been able to tear her gaze away from him, and suddenly the unseasonably warm weather had felt even hotter. And this morning when he’d slipped his arm around her waist she had trembled. She had blamed it on the cut on her back.

  ‘Back still sore, Beth? I thought the stitches dissolved in seven days,’ Dante had drawled mockingly. He’d known perfectly well she was faking it, and exactly how he affected her....

  This evening had been the final straw. He had insisted on taking her to the pub for a meal, saying she needed to get out. She had watched him, looking devastatingly attractive in blue jeans and a grey sweater, laughing and talking with easy charm with the other customers, thinking of how patient he was being with her when she had expected him to be long gone. She knew she was in big trouble. She loved him and it terrified her.

  Beth had told herself so often that she hated him, but her heart told her something else. He said he didn’t want a divorce and would like another child. If she actually was the type of woman he thought she was it would be easy to stay married to him—handsome, rich and good at sex. She stirred restlessly in the bed. But she wasn’t that type of woman.

  She loved him, and staying married to him would destroy her. He was convinced she was guilty of a heinous crime and that would never change. He wanted her and he felt affection for her—he’d proved that by staying and caring for her this week—but there could never be any equality in their relationship. She would always be the guilty party, inferior in his mind and not really to be trusted, and she could not live with that. Without trust there was nothing. She had fought long and hard to be a successful woman in her own right and she was not prepared to be an appendage to Dante’s life.

  When Beth finally fell asleep her decision was made.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  BETH OPENED HER EYES and glanced sleepily at her alarm clock. Nine o’clock. She blinked and studied the clock again. She must have slept through the seven o’clock alarm.

  She stretched luxuriously beneath the covers and then pushed them back so she could get up. When the door opened and Dante walked in her first instinct was to dive back under the covers, but that would be childish, so she settled for sitting up and pulling her nightshirt down her legs.

  ‘Good morning, Beth. Did you sleep well?’

  ‘Yes, thank you. Did you?’

  Their eyes met briefly. ‘Not as well as I would have done with you,’ he said.

  He was wearing black jeans and a sweater and he was smiling down at her. Suddenly she was filled with the most intense sensual message, and though outwardly motionless she quivered inside.

  ‘I was about to get up,’ she said hastily.

  ‘So I see.’ He sat down on the side of the bed and wrapped his hand around her wrist. ‘But I need to talk to you first. The manager of my New York office called me when we got back last night in something of a panic. I have to be at an emergency meeting there tomorrow. It’s all going to be a bit of a rush. Our flight is booked for five this afternoon from Heathrow, so we will have to leave soon.’

  ‘We?’ Beth interjected. ‘Why? This has nothing to do with me.’

  Suddenly he lifted her wrist and wrapped his arm around her to draw her close. His mouth covered hers, his tongue stroking and delving into the sensitive interior. All her logic of last night was forgotten as she was swept up to the dizzy heights of passion by his kiss.

  ‘That is why,’ Dante rasped, looking into her eyes. ‘I want you with me.’

  Beth was almost convinced by the taste of him on her lips and the tight knot of desire in her stomach—until he added, ‘I spoke to the builder when he arrived this morning and you don’t have to be here. If he needs to get in the house he can get the keys from Janet or her father. And Janet has agreed to take the cat for the three or four weeks we will be away. All you need to do is pack a few things.’

  Beth was stunned. From dizzy heights back to earth in one moment. Dante really had thought of everything—except asking her first. She’d been right. She was just an appendage to his life.

  Withdrawing her hand from his shoulder, she eased away from him. ‘Just one query.’ She raised a delicate eyebrow. ‘Do you want me with you for sex, or because you are madly in love with me?’ she asked, putting him on the spot. She noted the hint of colour that accentuated his high cheekbones and saw the answer in his eyes.

  ‘I want you with me because you’re my wife.’

  Clever sidestep, worthy of a good lawyer, Beth thought, and was amazed at how quickly passion could fade. Sliding her legs over to the opposite side of the bed, she stood up and turned to look at him. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen, and she loved him so much. But a one-sided love was a recipe for disaster, and she had had enough of those in her life already.

  ‘I want to stay here and get a divorce. So I guess we will have to agree to differ,’ she said with a nonchalance she didn’t feel.

  Dante rose to his feet, seething with anger and frustration. If he had said he loved her they would be in that bed now, but he refused to be manipulated by any woman. He had spent a week waiting on her when he should have been working—something he had never done for any other woman. In fact he didn’t know what the hell he was waiting for, wasting his time. He glanced furiously around. Beth could stay in this place she loved so much. He didn’t need her in his life, compromising his work. She could have her damned divorce.

  ‘No. You can have a divorce—and a word of advice. I know your cellmate died in your arms in this room. It’s time you got the place decorated instead of hanging on to your less-than-salubrious past like a safety blanket, or you will never move on in life.’

  And with that parting shot he stormed out.

  Beth watched him go. His last
unemotional parting comment had cut deep but proved what she’d known all along. How could she still love him? She was glad he was gone. It was what she wanted, she told herself. So why did she feel like crying? She glanced around the room, seeing it through Dante’s eyes. The décor was faded. She ran her hand along the bureau, remembering the first time she had made love with Dante in this room—because for her it had always been love. Dante was right. It was time she moved on instead of clinging to the past. Just not with him....

  * * *

  December, and Dante was back in London, seated next to Martin Thomas, an acquaintance from his university days, at the Law Society’s annual dinner. He was regretting that he had come, but he regretted a lot lately. Especially walking out on Beth. Why hadn’t he just told her he loved her? If the last two months without her had taught him anything it was that he couldn’t live without her—and if that wasn’t love he didn’t know what was.

  ‘You know old Bewick, don’t you, Dante?’ Martin asked. Not waiting for a response, he continued, ‘You have to feel sorry for him. He doted on that son of his—Timothy. It must have come as one hell of a shock to him to hear he was arrested for drug smuggling.’

  ‘What? His son? Are you sure?’ Dante asked, frowning.

  ‘No doubt about it. Baby Face Bewick is one of the biggest suppliers of drugs in the country. The drug squad had his operation under surveillance for a year, and now they’ve arrested him and his sidekick, Hudson, and recovered drugs worth over two million. The two of them were refused bail and are in jail awaiting trial. I’m prosecuting the case and it is watertight—plus Hudson is singing like a canary. Bewick started dealing drugs while at public school, apparently. Hudson helped him and they continued at university. Actually they were nearly caught in the first term, but they fitted up some teenage girl—Jane someone—and got away with it. Hudson probably wishes he hadn’t now. Juvenile detention would have been much easier than where he is going.’

  Dante had heard enough. Abruptly he got to his feet and walked out.

  The next morning he called a friend at Scotland Yard and confirmed that Jane Mason was the girl who had been set up and given three years in jail. She was probably in line for some hefty compensation....

  * * *

  Twelve days to Christmas, and after a day shopping with Janet and Annie Beth waved them off and unpacked her purchases—gifts, decorations, food, stuff for the apartment that was now finished. Beth was feeling good.

  Later that night, after spending ages looping a new string of one hundred Christmas lights around the tree, she decided the baubles could wait till tomorrow. Beth took a shower, then curled up on the sofa wearing an oversized T-shirt and a white fleece robe. Binkie curled against her leg, purring like a train. A log fire burned in the open grate, and she reached to stroke Binkie’s back just as the doorbell rang—and rang again. She glanced at the mantel clock—eight-thirty.

  Who could it be? she wondered. Probably church carol singers, she thought as she walked down the hall and opened the door. She pulled her robe tighter around her as a blast of cold air hit her and looked up with a welcoming smile—before her mouth fell open. Not carol singers. Dante... Her heart lurched in her breast.

  Dante saw Beth in the doorway, covered in a long white robe and smiling, her green eyes sparkling bright and clear. The hall light behind her picked up the sheen of her red hair and formed a halo around her head. She looked like an angel, and the guilt and despair he felt almost overwhelmed him.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Beth asked when she had recovered her breath.

  ‘I need to see you. It’s important, Beth. Please invite me in. This won’t take long.’

  She didn’t want to invite him in, but it was freezing cold. ‘All right.’ She stood back and waved him inside, closing the door behind him, then turned to see him watching her.

  In the light she was shocked by how gaunt he looked. His high cheekbones were sharper, his mouth a grim line, his eyes were deeper in their sockets, and she saw pain in the dark depths. But for her he was still the most beautiful man she had ever seen—and she had thought she was getting over him....

  ‘Come and sit down.’ She walked into the room where the fire burnt brightly. ‘Let me take your coat.’ He was wearing a heavy black overcoat, and after slipping it off he handed it to her. ‘Would you like a hot drink?’ His cream sweater hung loosely on his tall frame, the denim jeans were not such a close fit, and she wondered what had happened to him. He looked ill.

  He straightened his shoulders. ‘No, thank you.’ Binkie leapt off the sofa and padded over to rub against Dante’s leg. ‘Hi, Binkie,’ he said, and the glimmer of a smile twisted his stern mouth.

  Traitorous cat, Beth thought. But in the week when Dante had stayed with her he had made friends with Binkie.

  She folded his coat and laid it over the back of an armchair. Now she was over the shock of seeing him the disturbingly familiar scent of his aftershave, his hair, his skin was reaching her, reminding her of intimate moments she had fought hard to forget. Her breasts swelled. A quiver of sensation flowed through her body.

  Beth tensed and walked past him to curl up on the sofa again. ‘Why are you here?’ she asked. She had never heard from him since he had walked out, and had been expecting divorce papers. ‘To deliver the divorce papers personally?’ she queried. She could think of no other reason.

  ‘No. Timothy Bewick.’

  Beth sat up straight at that, and looked Dante squarely in the eyes. ‘This is my home, and I will not have that name mentioned in it,’ she said firmly. ‘I’d like you to leave.’

  ‘I will. But first I want to apologise—though I know no apology can begin to excuse what I did to you. That is why I am here.’ He looked uncomfortable and uncertain, and Beth was intrigued. ‘If you will just hear me out, Beth, and then you will probably throw me out—which is no more than I deserve.’

  ‘What are you apologising for?’ Beth was totally mystified.

  Dante straightened his shoulders, bracing himself to continue. ‘Last night I found out that Baby Face Bewick, as he is now known, is one of the biggest suppliers of drugs in this country and is currently in jail with Hudson, awaiting trial. Hudson has admitted they once set up a girl—you—Jane Mason—to take the fall for them as teenagers.’

  Beth shrugged. ‘So? I’ve always known I’m innocent, and it doesn’t matter now. Life has moved on.’

  ‘It matters to me,’ Dante said in a driven tone, his glittering dark eyes raw with pain and regret. ‘I can barely live with myself, knowing what I did to you. I put you in prison—stole eighteen months of your life. When I think what you must have suffered it tears me up inside. Your claustrophobia—and worse, I’m sure—is all down to me. I can’t believe I was so arrogant, so blind as to fall for the lies.’

  ‘Don’t beat yourself up about it. Nobody’s infallible—not even you. As you said yourself, any decent lawyer would have got the same result.’ Now he knew the truth Beth felt vindicated, and pleased in a way, but seeing the cool, arrogant Dante humbled was not as satisfying as she’d used to imagine it would be.

  ‘How can you be so calm, Beth? I ruined your life,’ he said vehemently.

  ‘Because I have lived with the knowledge for years and there is no point in letting bitterness take over. That way you only destroy yourself.’

  ‘Dio, Beth.’ He moved and sat down beside her. ‘When I think of how I behaved when I met you again... I threatened you, said hateful things. I am sorry from the bottom of my heart, though I know no apology can ever make up for the way I treated you. But I had to come and see you—tell you. Beth, you deserve that much and so much more. The irony of it is I was regretting going to that dinner—I was regretting not telling you I love you—and then I heard about Bewick.’

  He grabbed her hands in his and squeezed them so hard she winced, but he seemed not to notice. Beth was reeling in shock from his ‘I love you’. Her heart was racing, and suddenly she was aware of the warmt
h of his breath on her face as he studied her with incredible intensity.

  ‘I understand why you said you hated me, Beth, and I don’t blame you. I hate myself. I’m amazed you could even bear to speak to me.’ The raw emotion in his tone was unmistakable. ‘I’d give everything I own—my life—to give you back the time that was stolen from you.’

  His grip tightened on her hands as he gazed at her with those incredible dark eyes, and all of a sudden it was as if the world was standing still...waiting. Beth was intensely aware of the slow pulse of her blood flowing though her veins, every breath she drew, and the silence lengthened. She had the oddest notion that Dante was afraid.

  ‘I don’t expect you to forgive me. And I know I have no right to ask this—not after what I have done. But I love you so much. If you could find it in your heart to give me another chance... I’m not asking you to love me, Beth, just to let me back in your life—let me try to make amends. Please.’

  Beth’s heart overflowed. Dante sounded so vulnerable, and the ‘please’ brought moisture to her eyes. He had said he loved her not once, but twice, and she wanted to believe him. So she did, and it felt as if all her Christmases had come at once.

  ‘Yes,’ she said, expecting to be swept into his arms

  Instead Dante lifted her hand and kissed her palm almost reverently. ‘Thank you, cara.’ His mouth brushed hers gently. ‘I know I don’t deserve you, but I do love you, and I swear I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,’ Dante murmured, his tongue seeking entry to her mouth.

  Warmed by his words, she opened to him. Her heartbeat quickened and she wrapped her arms around him and put her heart and soul into the kiss.

  He eased her robe off her shoulders and she slipped her arms free to wrap them around his neck. She felt his hands skim down to her thighs, felt the slide of her

  T-shirt up to her hips and lifted herself to help him slip it over her head. She watched as he stood up and stripped off his clothes, and there, with the log fire burning and the fairy lights glittering, they lay on the long sofa kissing, caressing lovingly.