Wanting

by Penny Jordan

  ‘I won’t look, if that’s what’s troubling you,’ Race said harshly. ‘I wonder if you’d be as shy with your precious cousin? Was that why you left home, Heather? Because you knew he wanted you and that your aunt and uncle wouldn’t approve? Was he the one you were thinking of when I made love to you? He wants you so badly he’d almost convinced himself that was his child inside you….’

  ‘Neil is my cousin, Race,’ Heather protested, feeling her stomach muscles curl in protest at the anger she could sense within him. ‘I had no idea how he felt. We were always good friends, but….’

  ‘You didn’t know he desired you? And if you had known, Heather, what then?’ he taunted. ‘Would he have been the one to hear your virgin cries of pleasure? To impregnate your body with his child?’

  Why was he talking to her like this? He couldn’t possibly be jealous of Neil. Or was it simply that he resented the fact that Neil had known about the baby when he did not?

  ‘I had no idea about Neil,’ she told him shakily. ‘And I left home because I’d… because I’d had a bad experience with someone else. Someone I thought loved me, but who in the event merely wanted to marry me because my parents had left me some money. I wasn’t a particularly popular teenager; being so tall made me feel awkward and unsure of myself. When Brad took an interest in me, I put him up on a pedestal. Neil helped me to find self-confidence. He was the one who suggested I take up modelling; he’s always been a keen photographer.’

  ‘Don’t I know it!’ Race grated savagely. ‘He photographed my wife, pregnant with my child… God, Heather, can’t you imagine what it did to me to see that picture, to open a local newspaper and see you staring back at me, then, when I’d….’

  ‘Forgotten all about me?’ Heather supplied sweetly. ‘I expect it was quite a shock. Race… Race, where are you going?’ she asked curiously as he turned his back one her and strode back to the villa.

  ‘To get myself a drink,’ he snarled back at her. ‘I damn well need one!’

  To help him forget that he was trapped in their marriage? Heather wondered helplessly when he had gone. What on earth had made her talk to Race about Brad? She couldn’t understand why she had confided in him. That had been her secret, something she hid away from everyone else….

  Race was right about one thing, though, she decided in irritation, seconds later. Her bikini top was uncomfortable, and since he had gone back to work and she could hear the angry rattle of his typewriter, she felt perfectly safe in removing it.

  The balm of the sun against her bare skin made her stretch languorously, her book forgotten as she felt a familiar drowsiness steal over her. She really was growing lazy, sleeping like this every afternoon, but it was undeniably pleasant to let her body relax, her mind drift.

  She woke up to find Race standing over her carrying a tray of tea. ‘I thought you might like a drink.’

  Whatever had made him angry seemed to have disappeared, but Heather flushed as she felt his glance linger on the pale curves of her breasts. Did he find her ugly with her body heavy with pregnancy? She wanted to reach for her top but felt awkward about doing so, not wanting Race to guess how much his proximity affected her, and said instead, ‘I’d better go inside and get some sun-cream. I don’t want to burn.’

  ‘There’s some here,’ Race told her, picking up a tube she had forgotten. Turn over and I’ll do it for you.’

  Hoping her expression hadn’t given her away, Heather dutifully rolled on to her side. The cream felt cool on the back of her thighs, the long, stroking movement of Race’s fingers dangerously arousing. Her relief when he moved to the outside of her thighs was short-lived when she felt him untie the bow that held her bikini bottom in place, his fingers stroking up along the curve of her hip and then round to the fullness of her stomach, gently massaging the taut skin until she had to close her eyes in dizzy protest, willing herself not to utter the small groan of pleasure she could feel building up inside her.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ The movement of his hand stopped and she opened her eyes to find him watching her closely. ‘You’ve gone quite pale. Are you feeling all right? I wasn’t hurting you, was I?’

  What could she say? ‘Junior seemed to enjoy it,’ she joked weakly, ‘I think he’s gone to sleep.’

  ‘I’m glad I can please one member of my family.’ His voice was so dry Heather thought she must have imagined the fleeting glance of pain in his eyes. Was he, too, wondering what it would be like if there was love between them, if she was the woman who held his heart?

  ‘Don’t get up yet, we haven’t finished.’ He squeezed some more cream on to his hands and smoothed them softly against her breasts, cupping them with his palms, the sensation utterably pleasurable, as his fingers moved delicately over the pale flesh.

  ‘Heather.’ He said her name harshly, alerting her drowsing senses to alarm, a sweetly painful gasp wrung from her lips as his thumb stroked slowly over her nipple, his face oddly pale as he stared down at her. His eyes closed in a sudden gesture of defeat as he placed his mouth against the hollow between her breasts, his breathing harshly ragged, as he muttered something she couldn’t hear before letting his lips close over the nipple he had been stroking, tugging gently on the puckered flesh until it flowered against his tongue and a fierce wave of heat consumed her, her body tensing in remembered pleasure.

  ‘Heather.’ His voice sounded thick, almost unrecognisable, ‘God forgive me, I shouldn’t have done that. I….’ He raked his fingers through her hair, sitting down beside her. ‘I just found the sight of you unutterably arousing, I guess. When… when the baby comes, do you… will you… Are you going to breast-feed it?’ he asked sombrely, and Heather felt her skin colour as she realised the direction of his thoughts and felt her own undeniable response to them.

  ‘I… I don’t know.’ It was a lie. How often already had she longed impatiently to hold the baby in her arms, feeling it draw strength and succour from her body?

  ‘If you don’t you’ll be depriving it of a very special bond,’ he said huskily, adding stupefyingly, ‘And if you do, no doubt I’ll be as jealous as hell.’

  And with that he got up and walked back to the villa, leaving Heather trying to come to terms with her disordered thoughts, the tea he had brought her growing cold in the pot.

  * * *

  They returned to Heathrow five days later, and drove straight to the apartment, which was every bit as unwelcoming as Heather had remembered. She didn’t see Race until dinner time, as he had been up early and had left straight after breakfast. Although their holiday had relaxed her physically, mentally she was still keyed up, and Race didn’t seem to have gained any benefit at all from their break. He looked tired, and almost drained, she thought as she studied him across the table.

  ‘I have to go out after dinner,’ he told her curtly when he had finished his meal. ‘By the way, I’ve got something for you. A belated wedding present which isn’t quite ready yet.’

  He tossed her an envelope and Heather opened it curiously, wondering what on earth it could be. A wedding present wasn’t something she had expected. After all, their marriage was scarcely the type that demanded one. Her gasp of surprise as she slid the papers from the envelope caused Race to lift his head, but she was too engrossed in what she was studying to notice.

  ‘It’s the house,’ she said slowly at last. ‘The Elizabethan house we saw…. But Race, you never said… how did you know…?’

  ‘I saw the way you looked at it,’ he said simply, ‘and this apartment is no place to bring up a family. And by a family I don’t just mean one child,’ he warned her hardily. ‘The legal formalities for the house will be completed by the end of next week. ‘It’s basically sound, but one hell of a lot needs doing to it. If you don’t feel up to it, hire a firm of interior decorators.’

  ‘Oh no!’ the protest was out before she could stop it. ‘I’d rather do it myself, really, Race,’ she said slowly. ‘I know it will take longer; we might just about have it f
inished before his first birthday,’ she said lightly, touching her stomach, ‘but if you’ve no objections I’d prefer it that way.’

  ‘Suit yourself.’ He shrugged broad shoulders encased in the smoothly expensive fabric of his suit. ‘I’d better get a move on. Don’t wait up for me, and Heather….’ She turned to look at him. ‘When you’re making your arrangements, remember that the master suite will be occupied by both of us, won’t you?’

  So he did still desire her, Heather thought dazedly when he had gone and she had read and re-read the details sheet of the house. Or was it simply that he wanted to reinforce the image of a compact family unit? Did he think she might turn to someone else if he neglected her, Neil maybe, and so jeopardise their children’s security?

  Only one thing was clear, and that was that she would never know the motivation behind his actions unless she asked him, and she was scarcely likely to do that. He had bought her the house, had recognised her unexpressed desire for it and had given it to her. Surely that proved something? She fell asleep feeling much happier than she had done for some time, but her happiness disappeared the following morning when she saw a photograph of Race and a familiar, tiny blonde adorning the gossip column of her newspaper.

  ‘Entrepreneur Race Williams and Lady Davinia Fane dining together at the new restaurant, Raffles, opened by TV personality John Richards,’ the caption read, and Heather felt her happiness turn to bitterness. Was the house Race’s way of buying her off, burying her in the country while he was free to live a bachelor life in the city? She could almost laugh aloud at her naïveté.

  Telling herself that it was pointless to brood, she rang her aunt to tell her about the house. ‘Yes, I know, darling,’ she heard Lydia say. ‘Race asked your uncle to see to it all for him. I think he would have asked Neil, but poor Neil’s been so touchy about your marriage! However, he seems to be getting over things now. We had a card from him the other day, he’s decided to stay on for another couple of weeks in Switzerland, and so has Sue Reynolds. When are you coming down?’ she asked eventually. ‘I’m longing to see you.’

  ‘Once the house is legally ours. I’d like to move in before the baby comes if possible, but there’s an awful lot of work to be done.’

  This was a view Jennifer reinforced when she called to see her later that day.

  ‘I’ve got the day off,’ she told Heather in response to her query. ‘Goodness, you’re looking well—unlike your new lord and master, who looks positively frazzled! His temper isn’t too sweet either, fatherhood is obviously proving burdensome to him. Oh, Heather, I didn’t mean it that way,’ she apologised hurriedly when she saw her cousin’s face. ‘Oh, God, this tactless tongue of mine!’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Heather assured her wryly. ‘Let’s not have any pretence between us, Jen, it’s hard enough pretending to anyone else. Race married me because of the baby—that and because of the circumstances of his own childhood.’

  ‘But he must care something about you, Heather, and you love him.’

  Heather shook her head, and showed her cousin the newspaper. ‘I do love him, Jen,’ she agreed quietly, ‘but I’m not going to fall into the trap of thinking everything’s going to be happy ever after. Now, tell me about Terry and your plans,’ she charged, deftly changing the subject.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘OH, Heather, it’s gorgeous!’ Jennifer pronounced half-enviously. ‘I can’t get over the amount you’ve done since you first got the house. How have you done it?’

  ‘I haven’t got anything else to do,’ Heather reminded her cousin wryly as they headed back to the top of the stairs. Her cousin’s praise had been heart-warming, all the more so as Race hadn’t made any comment at all when he had come down the previous weekend. The house was by no means finished, but she had done as much as she intended for the moment. With the baby’s birth barely a month away she knew it would be foolish to overtire herself.

  ‘When do you actually move in?’ Jennifer asked her when they were back downstairs, drinking mugs of coffee in the attractive farmhouse-style kitchen that Heather had had completely gutted and then re-fitted by a sympathetic local craftsman who had understood and appreciated her desire to combine the best of everything that was modern in function with a design that would complement the exposed beams and brickwork of the kitchen. The effect was all that Heather had hoped for. The kitchen was supremely functional and yet had all the warmth and charm of a children’s storybook illustration, right down to the huge tabby cat snoozing on one of the chairs.

  ‘Straight away,’ Heather told her. ‘I’ve been living here for the past week, and now that the workmen have gone there’s nothing to stop us moving in properly.’

  ‘Umm, Mum’s been worried about you staying here by yourself, and I can understand why. You are a bit remote, Heather.’

  ‘I have a car and a telephone,’ Heather reminded her dryly, wishing it was her husband who was expressing such concern for her well-being rather than her cousin.

  ‘But Race will be here with you from now on?’ Jennifer queried anxiously.

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Heather assured her airily, not daring to look at her in case she read her own doubt in her eyes. Apart from staying the odd weekend at the house Race had continued to live in the London apartment. He had offered no explanation for this and Heather had not asked for one, not after she had seen that item in the gossip column.

  Her mouth compressed slightly. When Race had talked about their marriage, she had imagined naïvely that fidelity was part of the package; at least initially, while they tried to make things work. But it seemed she was mistaken.

  No wonder he had bought her this house! She swallowed on the pain tensing her throat, not wanting Jennifer to guess how miserable she felt. Now, with the work on the house completed for the moment, she had nothing to do but sit down and wait for the baby; and of course to worry about the wisdom of marrying Race.

  The master bedroom had been prepared as he had instructed, for them to share, but so far she had slept alone in the huge fourposter bed which complemented the period of the house. Off the bedroom was a brand-new bathroom plus a small dressing-room lined with cupboards and wardrobes, and large enough to take the baby’s things for the first few months, until he or she was old enough to sleep in the small nursery she had taken such pains with.

  ‘You know that Neil’s still going out with Sue, don’t you?’ Jennifer asked when they had finished their coffee. ‘Any regrets?’

  ‘No.’ Surprisingly, it was true. Race might not love her, but she did love him and she could never have married Neil.

  ‘Rich is coming home for Christmas,’ Jen continued. ‘Mum’s thrilled to bits. She wants you and Race to come for dinner Christmas Day.’

  ‘I’d love to,’ Heather told her, ‘but I’m not sure what Race’s plans are.’ Christmas was still five months away, but Heather well knew her aunt’s habit of organising things early. Jennifer wrinkled her nose.

  ‘Umm, I know. Terry was all for us spending Christmas in Switzerland, but I’ve managed to change his mind.’

  ‘Have you set a date yet?’ Heather asked her cousin, listening sympathetically while Jennifer listed the difficulties of finding a suitable house close to the centre of London.

  ‘Once we find somewhere we’ll probably get married almost straight away. I’ll have to be going soon,’ she added, glancing at her watch. ‘Sure you’ll be okay?’

  ‘Race is coming down tomorrow,’ Heather reassured her. He had rung her only that morning to warn her of his visit. Heather’s mouth twisted. It hurt her to think that Race considered himself a visitor in what should have been their home.

  He arrived just as Heather was hanging out some washing. She had taken advantage of the good weather to wash a pile of new nappies which had been delivered that morning. The van had trundled down the drive just as she was finishing breakfast, and when he saw that she was on her own the driver had cheerfully carried the crib and other equipment upstairs for her. Heathe
r had ordered them from the same shop where Neil had ordered the pram which now stood in stately splendour in the hall, totally impractical in many ways, and yet she hadn’t been able to resist giving it a trial push enjoying its expensively cushioned bounce. Dear Neil, she was so glad that he seemed to have found happiness with Sue.

  ‘Very domesticated,’ drawled Race when she had finished. ‘Workmen all gone?’

  ‘Yes, everything’s finished for the time being. What do you intend to do about the London apartment?’ she asked him as they walked back to the house. Her movements had slowed and Race had to adjust his pace to match hers, his glance taking in her tousled hair and smooth tanned skin. Heather flushed, suddenly self conscious. What a fright she must look, her hair all untidy, bulging all over the place, no proper make-up on! No wonder he preferred to stay in London.

  ‘Nothing for the time being,’

  Heather’s heart sank. So she had been right. He did intend to stay in London. Was he regretting their marriage to that extent already? His next words surprised, so at variance with her thoughts that she half-stumbled against him, welcoming the sudden protective grip of his arm as he balanced her.

  ‘Mrs Dunn will keep an eye on it for me, and then after the baby’s birth we’ll decide what to do with it.’

  ‘You mean you’re going to stay down here?’ She asked the question cautiously, not daring to let herself hope too much.

  Race frowned, and she wondered painfully if he was thinking about Davinia and the fact that staying with her would mean he could see less of her.

  ‘It is our home,’ he pointed out coolly, ‘and you’re too near to the baby’s birth to be left alone.’

  Disappointment and misery fired her anger. ‘If that’s all that’s worrying you I could always go and stay with my aunt and uncle.’

  They were in the hall and Race said sharply, ‘No… damn!’ He swore suddenly as he bumped into the pram. ‘What the…’

  ‘Neil bought it for me,’ Heather said quickly, flushing as she remembered their day in Gloucester and seeing Race. That must have been the day he went to ask the newspaper offices where he could find Neil.