Echoes of the Heart

by Alyssa J. Montgomery

  Jake would organise the morning-after pill, and everything would be alright.

  ***

  ‘No!’ Amanda called out in her sleep as she tossed and turned.

  She was at Lloyd’s funeral. Fiona Bennett stood with hatred in her eyes. ‘You killed him!’ Fiona declared. Accusing faces stared at her. They surrounded her. Their voices joined Fiona’s in a chant. ‘You killed him! You killed him!’

  ‘I didn’t!’ she cried. She tried to run, but the hostile crowd closed in on her.

  The scene changed. Cold steel clamped around her wrists. A burly policeman prodded her into a cold, bare cell. She heard the clang of the metal door as it locked behind her. The musty odour of rising damp assaulted her nostrils.

  ‘No!’ she sobbed again. It couldn’t be true. She’d escaped from the prison of her marriage only to face another long, unfair incarceration. ‘You don’t know the truth!’

  Hearing Amanda’s cries, Jake raced to her room and flicked on the bedroom light. The sheets were in disarray around her as she thrashed about. The hair at her temples was damp with perspiration.

  He sat on the edge of her bed and gripped her shoulders with his hands. ‘Amanda!’

  ‘No!’ she said, still in the depths of her nightmare. ‘You don’t understand the truth. I can’t tell you. I promised —’

  ‘Amanda!’ He gave her a gentle shake.

  When her eyelids flicked open he saw fear in her eyes, then disorientation as she frowned, sat up and shook her head.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he soothed.

  Her blonde hair fell around her face as she hung her head. Although he couldn’t see her expression, he felt her body trembling.

  ‘You were having a nightmare,’ he said quietly.

  A slight nod was all he received.

  Meaning to calm her, he rubbed one hand up and down the sleeve of her satin pyjamas. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  This time she shook her head.

  He wanted to ease her distress, but if he stayed…

  ‘I should go,’ he stated with a conviction he wasn’t feeling.

  ‘No!’ Her head jerked up and her hair fell back. Tears filled her eyes, threatening to overflow at any second.

  Something didn’t feel right. He sensed something was going on with Amanda that she wasn’t telling him.

  ‘You don’t know the truth!’ She’d cried out in the midst of her nightmare. ‘I can’t tell you. I promised.’

  What caused her so much distress that she was tormented by nightmares?

  ‘Please stay with me,’ she sniffed. ‘Just for a while. Hold me until I fall asleep.’

  Seeing her vulnerability, he wanted to comfort her. Releasing a long breath, he handed her a box of tissues and got under the bedclothes while she blew her nose.

  There was no hint of resistance as he lay down and pulled her against him. Her cheek rested against his bare chest and she placed one arm over his body, shaping herself to him in a perfect fit. He ran one hand through her hair, stirring up the scent of her shampoo and the response of his own body. Her sweet little sigh as she nestled into him even more snugly pierced his defences.

  He cursed silently. Here he was in bed with the woman he was obsessed with, the woman who had caused him countless sleepless nights, and she was almost asleep. There was no hiding the evidence of his desire for her and yet he was also enjoying just holding her. Physically, he was frustrated, emotionally he felt moved she trusted him enough to fall asleep so readily in his arms—especially when he’d treated her so contemptuously. What did it mean? He tried to analyse his feelings. He felt…complete. Being with her like this felt right.

  His lips twisted in a cynical smile and he called himself a fool. Amanda might be able to trust him, but her past actions meant he couldn’t trust her.

  She was his for a month and then it was over.

  The image of her cramped King’s Cross bed-sit sprang to mind and he suppressed a shudder. Those living conditions were appalling. Bennett had really done a number on her. She’d gone from being mistress of one of Sydney’s prime pieces of real estate, to living in the backstreets of the Cross.

  His jaw clenched. A part of him didn’t blame her for coming to him for money. He half understood her desperation to leave those surroundings.

  Half understood.

  He’d never completely forgive her for selling her body like a commodity on the stock exchange.

  Mid-way through stroking her hair, he consciously stopped himself. Amanda Bennett was dangerous! She’d made a fool of him once. The resolve he had to get her out of his system must not weaken. This month with her was supposed to make him forget her, not allow her to invade his heart again. Yet only a day into their time together and his emotions were under siege. All his defensive walls against her needed fortification so he wouldn’t be vulnerable to her attack on his emotions.

  Her aunt’s stroke had placed him at a temporary disadvantage. His empathy had been his weakness, a chink in his armour, but it wouldn’t be his downfall.

  He’d planned to spend the entire first week in bed with Amanda, and he couldn’t let her personal plight sway him from his original intentions. Each morning and night he could still have his fill of her gorgeous body, but he would not allow her to weave her magic around him again and drive him crazy.

  Chapter 8

  Friend or foe?

  Conflicting thoughts and emotions tore at Amanda as she sat beside her aunt’s hospital bed the following morning, anguishing over Jake’s contradictory reactions to her.

  He’d supported her since he learned of Irene’s stroke. Nothing in his actions or words conveyed his true feelings of contempt for her.

  Last night there’d been no sign of the ruthless multi-billionaire who’d blackmailed her into sharing his bed. Instead he’d been prepared to give her space, and she appreciated that.

  The earth-shattering sex had happened at her instigation. It was nothing like the tender lovemaking they’d shared two years ago, but it was incredible all the same. It was all physical. Both of them were driven by a powerful, all-consuming lust, and they’d been equal partners. She’d gained as much as she’d given, maybe more.

  Amanda’s heart was heavy. This morning had been a different story. Oh, she’d reached a cataclysmic climax—Jake was far too expert a lover and way too in-tune with her body for her not to have reached that sensational peak. But he set the pace. He was totally in control. The anger she’d sensed in him this morning as he drove into her was disturbing. He hadn’t been a lover—he’d been a consumer and she’d been consumed.

  ‘You’re like a disease I have to purge from my system.’

  Those were the words he’d used in his office. In bed this morning, she felt exactly like a disease. With each thrust into her body it felt as though he tried to purge her from his system. On an emotional level, his actions tore at her. On a physical level she’d enjoyed every second of his possession. Her body’s need for him would not be denied.

  Much to her own shame, it seemed her feelings still ran so deep she was prepared to have him on whatever terms he’d offer. She didn’t want to go there. If she dwelt on any residual love for him it would destroy her.

  This morning, Jake had walked out of her room without a word or backward glance as soon as their mutual climax was over. She’d curled up into a little ball of sheer misery under the bed sheets, willing the tears not to fall. Less than half an hour later, showered, shaved and dressed, Jake returned carrying a glass of water.

  ‘Take this,’ he ordered.

  Sitting up quickly, she’d stared at the small, white pill in the palm of his outstretched hand.

  The morning-after pill, she guessed. Had he instructed one of his minions to go and get it last night or did he keep a ready store of them in the house? A stab of pain pierced her chest. She upset herself by wondering how many lovers had shared his bed and swallowed a little white pill under his watchful eye, the morning after a night of wild sex.
r />   Avoiding his eye contact, she reached out for the tablet and put it in her mouth.

  ‘Here.’ He held out the water.

  She swallowed. The bitter pill slid down her throat.

  ‘There,’ she said without meeting his gaze. ‘No nasty little accidents to cause any problems for you.’

  He ignored her comment, took the glass from her fingers and placed it on the bedside table. ‘I phoned the hospital.’

  Guilt rammed through her so hard she felt winded. How could she have woken up and not immediately thought of her aunt? It was Irene who was important, yet Amanda had been so wrapped up in her own misery and confusion that she hadn’t made the call herself. The impact of being Jake’s lover again had completely overwhelmed and dominated her thoughts.

  ‘Irene had a comfortable night,’ he told her in business-like tones, already turning to leave the room.

  A relieved breath parted her lips.

  ‘If you get ready quickly, you might be able to catch the doctor on his morning rounds,’ he said as he reached the doorway.

  Jake accompanied her to the hospital. During the drive, he’d told her he would make sure Irene was still stable. He then intended to spend the day at his office and return for her that evening. Apart from that briefing, the trip had been made in tense silence.

  ‘Hello, Amanda. How are you?’

  Amanda turned and saw her aunt’s physician enter the hospital room. ‘Dr Stevens, I’m well. Thank you for looking after my aunt. How is she?’

  ‘I’m just about to see for myself,’ he said, picking up the charts from the end of Irene’s bed. He studied the data, and listened to Irene’s chest.

  Irene remained asleep. She’d stirred twice since Amanda arrived, but had fallen back to sleep almost immediately on each occasion.

  When the examination was complete, Dr Stevens gestured for Amanda to follow him outside. As soon as Amanda stepped into the corridor, Jake got up out of his seat, closed the distance between them in two easy strides and placed a possessive arm around her waist.

  ‘I’m Jake Formosa,’ he extended his hand toward the doctor.

  ‘Yes,’ the doctor acknowledged as he shook Jake’s hand. ‘I’m Dr Stevens.’

  The doctor’s recognition of Jake didn’t surprise Amanda. These days, as head of the Formosa Corporation, he was an instantly recognisable public figure.

  ‘How is Irene, Doctor?’ Jake asked as he drew Amanda closer to his side.

  The doctor’s eyes widened a fraction at Jake’s action and he seemed to assess the familiarity between Jake and Amanda. ‘She’s fairly weak, but she’s not critical.’ He turned to Amanda. ‘Irene will be moved to another ward later this morning.’ He hesitated. ‘May I speak freely, Amanda?’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed, anxious to hear about her aunt’s prognosis, not considering for a second that there would be anything he would say that Jake couldn’t hear.

  ‘I know you said you wouldn’t have the money for the new drug treatment for a month, but I believe Irene will recover faster if we start the treatment immediately.’

  Amanda swayed. Jake stiffened beside her and his arm tensed around her waist. Blood rushed from her hands and feet and settled heavily in her stomach, nerves jangled and her legs threatened to give way as she sensed Jake trying to fathom the doctor’s words. If he did, the fall-out could be nuclear in proportion.

  ‘I’ve found a temporary way around the financial problem,’ Dr Stevens continued, oblivious to the fact he’d just dropped a potential bombshell. ‘The pharmaceutical company is willing to supply the drug to Irene free of charge for the next month in return for some publicity. That will bridge the gap until you have the money.’

  Amanda was sinking fast—out of her depth in a whirlpool of emotion as she struggled to concentrate on what Dr Stevens was saying.

  ‘If you sign papers agreeing to the publicity, we’ll go ahead. The pharmaceutical company is banking on the publicity leading to a higher demand for the drug, and that pressure will be brought to bear on the government to subsidise its use,’ the doctor explained.

  Although she was thrilled at the prospect of Irene starting the treatment, Amanda dreaded the thought of exposing Irene to the unscrupulous media. Should she sign the papers?

  ‘I…I…need to discuss this with my aunt,’ she said, hoping to close the topic quickly in Jake’s presence.

  ‘Of course,’ the doctor agreed. ‘Though I would strongly advise you to go ahead with the agreement. Irene needs this treatment as soon as possible.’

  ‘Dr Stevens, please excuse us while we speak alone,’ Jake said. The words were polite, however Amanda took one look at the set of his jaw and knew he was keeping his anger reined in.

  Unaware of the undercurrents, the doctor inclined his head. ‘The nursing sister in charge will have all the necessary paperwork by mid-morning if you wish to go ahead.’

  Jake took Amanda by the arm and virtually frog-marched her into the deserted relative’s lounge. He closed the door behind them with an ominous click.

  Attempting to keep her shaking hands steady, she clasped them in front of her. It was pointless trying to avoid Jake’s gaze, because he took her chin firmly in his grasp and made her look at him. The golden flecks in his eyes were smouldering and glowing with fury.

  ‘Would you mind telling me where you’re getting the money to pay for this treatment she so desperately needs?’ he demanded angrily.

  ‘I can’t…I…’ Her voice broke with the weight of her tension.

  ‘Let me refresh your memory,’ he bit out. ‘The doctor mentioned you’d have the money in about a month.’

  ‘I —’

  ‘Is this the reason you were so desperate for money?’ he challenged.

  Her nerves stretched. Should she admit the truth to Jake?

  The grip on her chin tightened.

  ‘Just how much of the money I’m paying you is going to fund this drug treatment?’

  Casting a nervous look at Jake, she saw the determination on his face and her heart fell. There was no use avoiding the question. ‘All of it,’ she answered quietly.

  ‘Bloody hell, Amanda!’ he erupted. He dropped his fingers from her chin and his hands sliced through the air.

  ‘The amount I asked for will cover the drug treatment for eighteen months,’ she explained hesitantly.

  He stared at her, his expression livid.

  Her eyes darted away from his and focussed on her hands. ‘After that, I’m hoping I’ll have a decent job and I’ll be able to cover the cost.’

  Another curse exploded through his gritted teeth and he paced back and forth across the small room like a caged animal. ‘Why didn’t you tell me you needed the money for your aunt?’ he raged. ‘Why let me believe you needed it to fund an extravagant lifestyle?’

  Plucking up the courage to meet his eyes, she lifted her chin in a gesture of defiance. ‘I didn’t tell you that.’

  ‘You know that’s what I believed.’ He ran his hands through his hair in a gesture of pure frustration. ‘Why were you prepared to let me think the worst of you?’

  She glared back at him. ‘Why do you care why I need the money? What difference does it make?’

  ‘I —’

  ‘Don’t tell me you would’ve given it to me with no strings attached.’

  ‘If you’d told me you needed the money for your aunt—‘

  ‘You still would’ve used the opportunity to get me back in your bed,’ she threw at him bitterly.

  Jake rounded on her. ‘You want to be back in my bed.’

  Her shoulders sagged in defeat. After what happened between them there was no point in denying that. ‘Even though I still want you, I hate the fact that you have made me prostitute myself. I only agreed to your conditions because I was desperate for the money.’

  ‘That’s just it. You wanted the money for your aunt, not for yourself.’

  ‘Same thing.’

  Jake lost his cool. ‘No, it damned well is
n’t!’ he almost yelled at Amanda. ‘Do you have any idea how I feel knowing that I —’ A frustrated growl dislodged itself from his throat. He’d been able to argue with his conscience about his plan to manipulate her into bed when he’d believed she was no better than a hooker. The harsh reality of the situation was a forceful kick in the guts, and he was even more appalled by his actions. Amanda’s loathing of him was justified and he’d never despised himself so much.

  Sure, she’d wanted him—there was no doubt in his mind about that, but he’d unknowingly taken advantage of her love for her aunt and that wasn’t the way he wanted her.

  Then how do you want her?

  Unable to analyse how Amanda’s motivation for the money changed things between them, he pushed the question to the back of his mind. He was too confused right now.

  A giant battering-ram made contact with the barrier around his heart as he absorbed the hurt expression in her eyes. Fatigue, tension and worry were etched into her face. She looked haunted, like she had when she’d come to his office and asked for a job. The battering-ram delivered another mighty blow and his defences crumbled. If only he’d known the reason behind her request.

  Would it have made any difference?

  Irene’s illness didn’t alter his need to take Amanda as his lover, but he would’ve given her the money for her aunt’s treatment unconditionally. One way or another Amanda would’ve come back to him. The fire between them was self-igniting. It would only have been a matter of time.

  She’d sold herself to him to help her aunt.

  His breath caught in his throat. An idea took root in his mind and his jaw slackened. The reason Amanda wanted money was to help her aunt. She hadn’t denied marrying Bennett for his money, but…

  ‘That wasn’t how it was!’ she’d cried when he’d made the accusation at Bennett’s funeral. Irene’s condition had worsened around the time Amanda had married.

  He focused on her with every atom of his being. ‘Did you marry Bennett to help your aunt?’