by Maggie Cox
A little of the tension that had gathered between her shoulderblades left her, and Sorrel allowed herself a soft sigh. She could tell that Reece was disappointed with not being able to get as close as he apparently desired, but she saw understanding and compassion in his eyes, too, and that gave her tremendous hope. And the truth of the matter was that some part of her knew he had suffered their loss as deeply and as tragically as she had. His commitment to his work might have blinded him to some of Sorrel’s more heartfelt needs, but Reece wasn’t by nature a cold individual. If he said he was hurting then it must be true. Only Sorrel didn’t know how to reach out to her husband and comfort him…not when she couldn’t even comfort herself.
‘Thank you. I’m glad that you understand how I feel. I do need some help, Reece…but let me seek it out when I feel ready. Is that all right?’
‘We’ll take it one step at a time. Nobody’s pushing you to do anything you’re not ready for. We’ve been to hell and back, Sorrel, and I know things aren’t just going to slot back into place as easily as we might wish them to. But if we work together we can make some important headway, don’t you think?’
Oh, God! If he only knew how much she would like that! Struggling to find her feet again and win back her self-esteem on her own clearly wasn’t the answer. And if Reece was more than willing to make the difficult journey back to wholeness with her, then Sorrel knew she could get well again.
She smiled shyly at him. ‘Yes…yes, I do. Shall I go and make us some tea now?’
For answer, Reece tugged on her arm and pulled her back down beside him. ‘Let me hold you for a little while longer first, huh?’
He was lying on a sun-lounger by the glistening pale blue water of the swimming pool when he heard the phone ring. Reluctant to move from the drowsy reverie he had fallen into, Reece walked across the terrace and through the opened patio doors of the living room in his bare feet.
Angelina Cortez was the owner of the hypnotically diverting tones that greeted him, and automatically Reece swept his gaze towards the other side of the terrace, where Sorrel was in conversation with Ricardo as he watered the surrounding plants. He told himself he shouldn’t feel the least bit guilty that a valuable client was ringing him at his private house when he was on vacation, but he knew that Sorrel wouldn’t see it like that.
Ever since she’d come into his room the other night, and Reece had held her tight as she’d wept, the glances she had given him had been as wary and trepidatious as a young doe that suspected it was being stalked by a predator—as if she hardly dared believe that they could make the important headway that Reece had talked about.
Yet there had been an unexpected breakthrough when Sorrel had admitted that she was scared and didn’t feel good enough. For a few moments there she had let him into her private world of pain and admitted that she needed help. The fears she had articulated to him had cut Reece to the quick. She was such a stunning, lovely young woman, with so much to offer, and yet right now she felt none of those life-affirming things. Losing the baby had opened a wound deep inside her, and he wondered if it would ever be healed. What was worse, he barely knew what was the right thing to do to help her—and if ultimately it would be the help she truly needed at all…
‘Did you have a good flight out?’ Reece forced himself to ask the Spanish singer now, as she told him that she and her small son were both now in Portugal.
‘Perfect! It is so good to be here and in my lovely villa again! I am ringing to remind you of my invitation to dinner, mi querido. Can you and your wife come tomorrow night at seven? Do you have a pen? I will give you the address.’
When Reece came back out onto the terrace by the pool, Sorrel had settled herself in the sun-lounger beside his and opened her book. She glanced up at him from behind her sunglasses as he sat down. ‘Who was on the phone?’
Unable to prevent the tension that snaked across his midsection, Reece tried to keep his tone as neutral as possible. He’d told her a while ago that he wasn’t prepared to walk on eggshells around her, but wasn’t that what he was doing now? The thought couldn’t help but infuriate him.
‘A client.’ He picked up the newspaper that lay on the little wrought-iron table between them and glanced unseeingly at the front page.
‘You told them you were on holiday?’ She looked perplexed—that familiar little worry line appearing between her brows.
‘This is a very important client, Sorrel. There are some people I can’t simply ignore.’
His words were laced with underlying annoyance, and Sorrel wondered if he was resenting this enforced vacation with a wife who every time he tried to get close just seemed to push him away. Not only that, but she was actively preventing him from getting on with his work…the job he loved.
Unhappiness descended with a vengeance. ‘You know what we’ve been through—yet you would still put your client’s needs first?’
Reece could hardly believe what he was hearing, when just the other morning in bed she had agreed that they would work together to try and sort out their problems.
‘Dammit, woman! What the hell do you want from me?’
Throwing the unwanted newspaper aside, Reece pushed to his feet and stared down at Sorrel with a furious gaze. At the other side of the terrace—out of the corner of his eye—he saw a surprised Ricardo make a discreet exit.
‘I’m doing my best here! Isn’t it enough for you that I’ve taken the time out to be with you as well as expressing my desire to try and put things right? Must every damn thing I do or say to you be some kind of test I have to pass before you deign to show me a little affection or respect? If this is the way you intend to carry on, Sorrel, then maybe you were right—maybe we should have gone through with the damn divorce!’
‘I’m sorry if that’s the way you see it.’
‘No, you’re not! You’re not sorry at all! All you want to do is wallow in your own unhappy misery and drag me down, too! Well, to hell with it! If you don’t pull yourself together soon, then we may as well call it a day.’
Not waiting to hear her response—or indeed even caring right then what it might be—Reece strode away and disappeared inside the patio doors before Sorrel could call him back.
Her hand shook as she tried to apply the pretty rose-coloured lipstick in front of the bathroom mirror. All last night and most of the present day Reece had practically ignored her—except to tell her in almost dictatorial terms that they were going to be Angelina Cortez’s dinner guests that evening, at her villa in Almancil, near Vale do Lobo.
To say she’d been shocked to learn that Angelina was in Portugal at the same time as they were was pretty inadequate to describe the state of her feelings. Sorrel’s heart had slammed so hard against her ribs at the news that she’d wondered the whole of the country couldn’t detect her distress. Had they planned this little invitation between them? They must have. Reece had to have told the opera star that he was going to be in the country with his wife, or how else would she have got his telephone number there?
The situation was a definite wake-up call. Clearly Reece was right. Maybe she had wallowed long enough in her ‘unhappy misery’, as he’d called it, and now she needed to bestir herself and fight for her marriage if that was what she really wanted. When she thought about being without Reece for the rest of her life, fear jack-knifed through Sorrel’s insides with such force that she felt quite ill. She had already lost her precious baby…to lose her husband—the love of her life as well—was simply too terrible an idea to be tolerated.
A star of Angelina’s beauty and talent could probably get any man she wanted. But Sorrel had only ever wanted Reece…despite what he might believe to the contrary. So she would try her hardest to ‘pull herself together’—the phrase made her heart bleed—and try to remind her disbelieving husband of the woman he had fallen in love with and married…for better or for worse.
The villa was quite compact and understated—beautifully decorated and appointed, but not the pa
latial residence that Sorrel had expected at all. It was more like a much loved home than a house that was only occupied by its internationally renowned owner very occasionally. And if the stunning Angelina welcomed Reece a little too warmly for his wife’s liking, then she was surprised by the woman’s equally enthusiastic welcome of Sorrel herself.
As they sat round in comfortable couches in the charming living room, every shelf and surface decorated with clearly personal photographs of family and friends, Sorrel stole a furtive glance at her husband. He was dressed in casual linen trousers and a plain white linen shirt that enhanced his tanned good looks with eye-catching compulsion. She longed for him to notice her as he seemed to be noticing Angelina. The Spanish star was dressed in dramatic red, her slinky low-cut dress clinging to every ripe curve, her dark hair swept up behind her head in an elegant and stunning chignon. When she moved, the slim gold bracelets on her wrist jangled and the air was permeated by her exotic perfume.
In her own little strapless blue sundress with the gauzy silver wrap shot with faint blue stars that Sorrel had added in deference to the invitation to dinner, she felt like a small grey mouse sitting next to a beautiful, sleek Siamese cat.
‘Sorrel…I hope you did not mind me dragging you both away from your vacation to come and join me for dinner? When I found out that Reece was going to be here, I could not resist inviting you. As well as being the only promoter I would trust to oversee my concert tours, I much enjoy his company. He is always the perfect gentleman…always! Now, what can I get you to drink? A little wine, perhaps, before dinner? There will be just the three of us tonight, so you must both just sit back and relax. My housekeeper Pepe is preparing our meal, and he is the most divine cook!’
‘Some wine would be lovely…thank you.’
‘The same for me, thanks.’
As Reece added his own acceptance of some wine to Sorrel’s, Angelina excused herself and disappeared from the room to fetch it. The silence that fell in her absence was marked, and Sorrel all but squirmed with discomfort as she sat on the smart white leather couch and smoothed her palms awkwardly down the sides of her dress.
‘If you’d rather I hadn’t come with you tonight you should have said.’
At the hurt look in her eyes Reece bit back the cutting rejoinder that had immediately hovered on his tongue. If Sorrel had indicated even once that she would prefer him to refuse Angelina’s invitation in deference to staying at home and trying to sort out their problems, he would most certainly have conceded to his wife’s request. Even though at the time he’d told her they were going he had stated the fact in a tone that had brooked no argument. But she’d said nothing.
At the idea that she was likely building up more and more resentment towards him, and that the evening was bound to end up in another bitter argument, all Reece wanted to do right then was book the first available flight home. But what would that solve? Sooner or later they were going to have to come to some mutual agreement about their future. Reece wished his chest didn’t feel as if it had been buried beneath the crushing rocks of a landslide at the thought, because it was becoming more and more clear that as far as he and Sorrel were concerned there might not be any shared future at all.
‘I wanted you to come,’ he said irritably, and felt mere inches away from snapping any second now if she so much as hinted at refuting that statement.
He despised himself for being so tetchy with her—especially in light of all that she’d suffered—but he reminded himself that he had suffered, too, was suffering still. As his emerald gaze fell on her now, looking so pretty and enchanting in her simple blue sundress and sparkly stole, he longed to be able to take her somewhere private and kiss her—like he had kissed her the other morning, when he’d woken to find her sharing his bed at last. Of course since then she’d gone back to sleeping alone, and she would no doubt just push him away if he tried to make any kind of advance. So much for making headway…
‘Reece…I really would like us to—’
Sorrel had to bite back her anxious attempt at conciliation when Angelina swept back through the door, carrying a bottle of wine and a tray of glasses. Once again the woman’s sultry perfume and exotic presence impinged itself indelibly on the room like a colourful parakeet amid a flock of little brown sparrows. Could Sorrel really blame Reece if his gaze turned to Angelina in admiration instead of to his wife?
‘By the way, I am sorry that my darling Emmanuel could not manage to stay awake to meet you, but he is only five years old and he gets so tired. You know how it is with little ones, yes?’
Turning her lovely dark eyes to Sorrel, Angelina couldn’t know that that last sentence of hers had cut into her guest like a scythe cutting through corn. But as Sorrel lifted her wounded glance to Reece’s she saw brief panic followed by regret mirrored in his own concerned gaze, and she let go of the breath she had inevitably sucked in hard and willed herself to release her pain…
‘My sister has two small children, so, yes…I do know how tired they can get.’ Adding a smile to her words, Sorrel didn’t see Reece relax his shoulders and some of the strain around his mouth gradually disappear.
Later on in the evening, after a superb dinner, Angelina declared that she wanted to show her guests around the charming well-kept grounds of her lovely villa. As they both stood up to join her, Sorrel asked to be shown where the bathroom was. Leaving Reece to accompany their hostess out into the balmy warm evening, she let herself into the immaculate bathroom with its shimmering sea-green tiles and marble basin, and thankfully shut the door behind her.
Dinner with Angelina as host had been surprisingly enjoyable and entertaining, and not nearly as great a strain as she’d anticipated it might be, but as the evening had worn on Sorrel had felt the inevitable tiredness creeping up on her. Glancing at her pale reflection in the mirror, she felt like a masked performer in a circus who, when the lights dimmed and the audience went home, was left with the less than sparkling face behind the mask.
With a little sigh she examined her watch and wondered how much longer they should stay before they could politely make their excuses and leave. Thinking about it now, she honestly would have liked to meet Angelina’s little boy. Not because she wanted to wallow in the unhappy misery of not having a child herself—but because she was genuinely more comfortable in the company of children rather than adults.
Realising that she was missing the nephew and niece she had lived with for almost a month, Sorrel decided to ring Melody the next day and make arrangements to see them all as soon as she returned to the UK. And, after washing her hands in the bathroom basin, with some exquisitely scented soap that smelt like honeysuckle, Sorrel tidied her hair, reapplied some lipstick and went in search of her husband and hostess.
CHAPTER TEN
‘SO YOU will think about what I said, querido? You know this means a lot to me.’ Sorrel could hear Angelina petition Reece as they stood behind an intoxicating hedgerow of heavenly scented flowers. Her footsteps coming to a halt on the lamplit garden pathway, she flinched as though she’d been physically struck. What was the other woman talking about so intimately with Reece? Were her very worst suspicions coming true, and were they really having an affair? Or were they simply on the brink of one? Had things between her and Reece come to this sorry pass because she couldn’t get over her grief about the loss of her baby and recognise that he had needs, too?
If Angelina were going to tour the States, and Reece agreed to promote that tour, then their paths would be thrown together almost daily. It would also mean that Reece would be away from home for months on end. So much for a reconciliation and the possibility of renewing their marriage…
‘I promise to give it my serious consideration, Angelina,’ Reece replied thoughtfully, and Sorrel heard a definite smile in his voice. ‘That’s all I can tell you right now, honey, but I’ll definitely ring you in a few days.’
What was he going to give his proper consideration to? Sorrel fretted in panic. The possibili
ty of having an affair with the beautiful opera star? Promoting her American tour? What?
Trying to hear herself think over the wild roaring in her ears, she took a deep shuddering breath, then walked forward to join her husband and hostess. The last thing she wanted Reece to accuse her of was lurking about in the shadows spying on him while he talked to Angelina. If she wanted to make matters ten times worse then that was definitely the way to go about it.
‘Hi, there.’ She smiled, deliberately keeping her voice light so as not to alert Reece to the fact that she’d inadvertently overheard some of their conversation.
Sorrel couldn’t help noticing that the smile she’d heard in his voice when he’d spoken to Angelina was definitely not in evidence when he turned to regard her—his wife. Feeling ridiculously abandoned when he didn’t reply to her greeting either, she shrugged her shoulders and turned to Angelina instead.
‘Mind if I take a look around?’ she asked, her feet already moving down the path away from her and Reece.
‘Be my guest, my dear.’
Waving her away effusively, Angelina linked her arm through Reece’s and, as easily as that, led him away in the opposite direction to his wife….
Sipping his Scotch, Reece walked out onto the terrace. The captivating scents of fragrant white lavender and red bougainvillea immediately entrapped his senses, so that he stopped for a moment simply to inhale the sensational heady fragrance more deeply into his lungs. Along with the luscious floral perfume that drifted up to him came the familiar sound of rasping insects mingling with the blessedly temperate night air.
Sorrel had long gone to bed, and out here on his own, thinking his thoughts and allowing relative silence to flow over him, Reece could finally exhale and give vent to his private frustration and pain over his marriage. He would just have to give Sorrel her freedom. What was the point in trying to hold onto a woman who clearly no longer cared for him? Somehow along the way they had lost touch with each other’s needs and broken faith with the vows they had both voiced so passionately on the day they’d wed. Her eyes no longer lit up when Reece walked into the room, her mouth didn’t immediately smile in welcome when he returned from his long trips away from home, and her manner and demeanour towards him—apart from the other morning, when she had briefly let him into her heart—were bordering on contemptuous…even more so since she had lost the baby.
