Читать книгу Her Marriage Secret - Darcy Maguire - Страница 9

‘YOU may not wear my ring any more.’ Jake glanced at her bare finger and his gut lurched. ‘But we’re still married.’

Meg strode resolutely to the door and swung it wide. ‘Goodbye, Mr Adams.’ She lifted her chin in defiance.

Jake ignored the door.

She was still beautiful. Her large blue eyes and lush red lips spoke directly to his body. The spark in her voice fired his passion and her ivory skin called to him to touch her again and again.

Meg needed someone looking out for her. It could have been him if he hadn’t been blinded by work. He should’ve seen she wasn’t happy. Her leaving him like that had been confirmation of his greatest fear.

Marrying her had been right for him, but not for her. He’d taken advantage of her youth, her naivety, and paid for it with a gaping hole in his life.

But now he was back. He was worthy of her now. He had money, security, and was hell-bent on not making the same mistakes again. He was sure that, whatever her reason for leaving, he could make it right now.

Jake could barely restrain his need to make her his again. But he knew from Meg’s chilly reception that she wasn’t ready to let them pick up where they left off. She wasn’t even willing to see how much he’d changed. If only he knew why. Then he’d have some chance of sorting this all out.

A muscle quivered in his jaw. ‘I mean it, Meg. I’m not leaving your side until you tell me what happened.’

Meg crossed her arms over her soft, full breasts, her lips pressed together in a grim line.

The look on her face said it all. Jake knew it well. Hers was a look of defiance, as if she’d rather be struck dead than give in to him. He’d spent enough years coercing men to work to know he had to change tack or lose.

‘Let me start over, Meg. This has gotten all out of proportion. I came to find you so I could work out what went wrong. So…’ He paused, faltering in his course of action. She had to feel safe, see him differently. ‘So I don’t make the same mistakes with…’ His befuddled mind dredged up the name of the woman who had handled his company’s business logo and card designs. ‘With Vivian.’

Meg’s arms dropped to her sides. Her lips parted in surprise, her whole jaw slack, blank eyes staring at him.

Of all the rotten…Meg’s mind ran through a dozen expletives. The nerve! Coming to ask her to explain to him what he’d done wrong so he didn’t wreck his precious relationship with this Vivian. The only reason!

She clenched her hands by her sides. No wonder it had taken him so long to find her. He’d been waiting for a good reason. And her name was Vivian.

She walked stiffly back to her desk, moving around the expanse of timber, hoping for some barrier between them. This had had to come. She had known that it would eventually. Though she’d expected some document in the mail from his solicitor, demanding she sign divorce papers so he could marry some nameless, faceless woman. Not him in person. ‘I guess you’ll want a divorce, then.’ She ground the words out from between her teeth.

He looked taken aback for a moment. ‘Yes, of course. But I’m not going to sign anything until I understand fully what went wrong with us.’ He seated himself casually in one of her embroidered chairs and propped a foot up on his knee, exuding a calm that Meg wished she could find herself.

‘Then why the hell did you kiss me?’ She leant heavily on the desk, wishing she could spit fire and strike him down where he sat, with her eyes alone.

He shrugged matter-of-factly. ‘Habit. Sorry. Forgot who you were for a moment—I just got carried away with your lips so close, begging to be taken.’

‘They were not begging!’ She turned away, willing her cheeks to cool. She’d been acting like a total idiot. She mentally rehashed their conversation and kicked herself. He’d been harping on about wanting to know what had happened in the past, not inviting himself into her life, or her future. She took several big breaths to slow her pounding heart. Here she was trying to convince him that she was mature now and she’d been rambling like a scared child.

She managed a smile, taking her eyes off his powerful body and staring at the fabric samples on her desk. ‘I’ll be glad to discuss your failings as a husband.’ Meg revelled in the idea of doling out a serving of revenge. She gritted her teeth. She would love to bring him down a peg or two with some hard truths. ‘Let’s say dinner tonight at seven, at Vivo’s?’

‘Same place as lunchtime?’ He hesitated. ‘Okay, sure.’ He rose in one fluid motion.

‘And bring Vivian,’ Meg added, inspired. She couldn’t get into any trouble with Jake if his precious girlfriend was there. And it would be darned interesting to see whom he was making such a fuss over. Then she could put a face to the woman who could tolerate Jake’s lack of commitment.

‘Vivian?’

‘Yes. Bring along the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.’ Her stomach twisted into a painful knot at the thought. ‘She’s the one who’d be most interested to hear what I have to say. She did come with you, didn’t she?’ Meg raised an eyebrow and held her breath. Maybe this woman was involved with him for his money and his body, not for love.

‘She’s in Brisbane.’ Jake’s voice faded, losing its strength. ‘Won’t be down until…tomorrow afternoon.’ He stopped and drew a deep breath. ‘That’s what I came in here about, actually. I wanted to check out the place for her. She wants a gown for some charity ball on the Gold Coast.’

‘Two birds with one stone?’

He shifted his weight and thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘Yeah, something like that.’

‘And do I check out?’ Meg didn’t know what to think any more. Her head felt as though it would split in half with the strain of the day’s turn of events. ‘Of course I won’t let on that you kissed me. I wouldn’t want to upset the apple cart.’ Or did she? Certainly she had some duty to let the woman know what she was getting into with Jake—she’d just have to find a way to wend his womanising ways into the conversation.

‘Thanks, I appreciate it.’

‘No worries.’ She smiled. ‘Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got work to do.’ Like plotting revenge, or collapsing in a heap, or both.

‘Will you still come tonight?’ Jake moved towards the door with all the satisfaction of a beast that had captured its prey.

‘Sure.’ A meal with Jake couldn’t hurt, and finding out all about Vivian and making a meal of her would be exactly what her ego needed to repair some of the damage.

‘Vivian?’ Jake could almost picture her behind her desk, ebony-black hair coiled on top of her head, pristine suit, sharp eyes and pinched mouth. Nothing like Meg.

‘Yes.’

He gripped the phone tighter. ‘Jacob Adams, JAKCO Constructions. You may not remember me. We met at the golf club, you did some work for me…?’

‘Of course I do,’ she purred. ‘Jacob, how are you? How’s work going? How’s the logo? The business cards? Is my ad in the Yellow Pages working?’

He swallowed. He hadn’t needed one in the first place; he got his work from tenders out of the newspapers mostly. But he hadn’t been able to bring himself to disappoint the efficient woman. ‘Works great.’

‘Good.’ There was silence. ‘What can I do for you, then?’

He dragged air into his lungs, stewing on how to phrase his request. ‘I need your services for a week, in Melbourne. Strictly business, of course.’

‘Of course. Sounds intriguing, tell me more.’

What could he possibly say? He wasn’t about to blurt out the truth to a stranger. ‘I need a companion to avoid any misinterpretation of my actions—’

‘Does this involve a woman?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you don’t want her to get the wrong idea. I’m assuming you’ll pay for my expenses, my time away from work…?’

‘Of course.’

‘My company could bear closing its doors for the right price,’ she tittered.

Jake quoted a figure he was sure would fully compensate her for any loss of business. Money wasn’t an issue. Only Meg was, and it was blatantly obvious she felt threatened by him. If he could get her to let her guard down…

‘Are you offering anything extra?’

He racked his brain as to what more she could want. ‘Yes. You get a dress by a designer in Melbourne.’ Women loved clothes. He smiled. He should have the deal sewn up.

‘Not exactly what I was expecting, but why not? When do I start?’

Jake couldn’t help but smile as he dropped the phone into its cradle. That was one problem solved. Now he could focus all his energies in one direction only…

Meg hadn’t counted on the noisy, cluttered restaurant of lunch turning into such a romantic venue at night. The lights were dimmed, candles were lit on each cloth-covered table, and there was soft music. Couples nestled everywhere, leaning close and enjoying the atmosphere.

She held her hands together tightly, kneading them as she approached the tall figure at the bar. He wore a cream cotton shirt and dark Armani trousers, but she knew better than anyone that clothes didn’t make the man. So he dressed well, and exuded a subtle scent of cologne that invaded her nostrils and sent goosebumps all over her skin…She felt like standing there for a while and just drinking in the sight of him, but she’d tortured herself enough for one day. ‘Jake.’

He turned, his eyes running down over her, from her black silk blouse to her black loose-fitting trousers and high-heeled boots. ‘Meg. I was starting to think you weren’t coming.’ His smile widened in approval.

Her stomach fluttered and she was glad she’d resisted the urge to dress to the hilt. Although some part of her wanted to rub his face in what he’d missed out on, the other part was more than content for him to go his way with this Vivian woman and leave her and hers well enough alone. What she needed was love, and Jake wasn’t the one to give her that. Jake was a load she wasn’t willing to bear again. ‘I got caught up at home.’

His eyebrows drew together in a frown. ‘Are you involved with anyone?’

‘That’s none of your business.’

Jake cast her a quick glance. ‘I’m sure the guy would be interested to know you’re still married.’ He paused, but she didn’t respond. ‘Did you tell him you were going out with your husband?’ Jake clenched his fists. ‘He could have come too, you know.’

‘Let’s get a table, shall we?’ Meg didn’t want to get into the details of her personal life with Jake. She wasn’t about to blurt out what she’d gone through in the last three years, or who was waiting for her at home.

‘Fine.’ Jake raised a hand and signalled one of the Italian waiters. They sat down at a much-too-quiet table in a corner. Jake ordered wine and they both ordered their meal. Then he turned to her.

‘So, tell me what happened to us.’

‘Now?’ She lowered her eyes and moved uneasily in her seat. He had never been one for patience or subtlety, but she’d expected to have a chance at indigestion before she tackled that one.

‘Good a time as any.’ Jake leant on the table, reducing the space between them by precious inches. His boldly handsome face smiled warmly at her.

Meg felt her stomach curl. She’d rehearsed her story all afternoon, but it seemed to stick in her throat. She took a gulp of water from her glass. It was one thing lamenting Jake’s actions for years, another to tell him to his face how he’d broken her heart.

The wine arrived, and Meg snatched up the goblet and gulped the deep red vintage. It went down quickly, hitting her stomach with such force that Meg slapped the glass down to cover the unpleasant response. She hadn’t eaten lunch—hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, figuring her poor belly was suffering enough with stress without adding food to it.

‘That good, hey?’ Jake teased, his wide smile sending her senses into a spin.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t know where to start.’ Her mind reeled with confusion. Where was the level-headed woman she knew so well? The one who’d coped despite all the obstacles, trials and tribulations sent her way? She had the perverse urge to run home to see if she’d left her lying out on the bed, where her clothes had been all afternoon, taunting her with what was coming.

‘Tell me anything, then. Tell me about your career.’

She was glad of the reprieve, though cautious at what he was up to with this show of civility. Meg rattled on for what seemed like ages, carefully choosing her words so she didn’t trip herself into revealing more than she wanted to. She told him lightly about how she’d eked out a meagre existence above a garage in Toorak, her main patron being her landlady, who’d believed so much in her designs that she’d advertised by word of mouth.

Meg didn’t want to harp on any of the details. It wouldn’t do her any good to fuel any sense of guilt Jake might have for what had happened in the past. If he knew what she’d been through, and how much she owed, she hated to think what he might do; his over-inflated sense of duty might run rampant, all over her well-ordered life. And the way his eyes never left her face while she talked, the way his hands gripped the edge of the table, suggested he wasn’t as calm as he was pretending to be.

‘Your landlady sounds like Winnie.’

‘Yes,’ Meg answered.

‘You miss her?’

‘Yes.’ Her father’s aunt, Winnie, had died just after Meg had begun college. She hadn’t been like a mother to her—she’d never known a mother. But Winnie had been like a very old big sister. She’d been her friend more than anything, and not afraid to tell her anything that she’d needed to know—although sometimes Meg felt she’d given Winnie more of an education about life than her great-aunt had given her.

Mostly she remembered the fairytales Winnie had told her as a child, of the princess being saved by the handsome prince, and how she was carried off to the castle in the air. Later, when Winnie’s eyesight had started to fail her, Meg would read her stories. She was glad that she’d died peacefully in her sleep; it gave her the hope that her old friend had been dreaming of her own prince when she’d left.

It had been a shock finding her there like that. And of course Dad hadn’t been there. She’d been alone. She’d had to work out all the details herself while Dad wired her the money. He hadn’t even made it to the funeral. But he’d made it to his own, only a year later.

‘How is your mother?’ Meg asked politely. Jake’s mother, Moira, had never liked her. She’d gone out of her way to make sure Meg knew how disappointed she was at Jake’s decision to marry her. Moira had looked daggers at Meg at the wedding, had ignored her totally at the reception, and had made herself conspicuously absent when Jake and Meg moved to a home of their very own.

‘She’s fine.’

‘Any more stepfathers?’

Jake shot her a dark look. ‘No.’

‘I’m sorry, that was out of line.’ Moira had gone through three husbands and several lovers. Meg was sure it was her personality that attracted them; she tended to be light and cheerful most of the time. It was the rest of the time that was the problem.

Their meal arrived and Meg tried to concentrate on the flavour of her lasagna, but its taste was lost on her. Nothing registered with her as real except Jake on the other side of the table and the strained distance between them.

What did she care anyway? That was the point, after all, she kept telling herself. All she had to do was get this over and done with and she could get back to her life. The thought echoed around in her mind. It had a hollow ring to it.

‘And how’s Danny?’ Meg was sure that he was a safe subject, if not a flamboyant one. Danny had been Jake’s best friend for as long as she could remember, sticking with him through thick and thin despite their different natures.

She could see Jake swallow hard. ‘Haven’t seen him in years.’ The indifference in his icy tone shook her. They’d been so close. She would have thought nothing could come between the two of them; they were inseparable. The times Danny would drag Jake off to the pub or to a party…

She shook herself. ‘So how’s work?’ She knew that would get a response. For Jake there was nothing more important. She swallowed another mouthful of lasagna and felt it struggle down her throat.

‘Do you really care, or are you just humouring me?’

‘Of course I’m interested to hear what adventures you’ve found yourself over the last three years.’ She felt she needed reminding of what had held a higher priority than she had, so she could crush the flutters coming from the vicinity of her heart.

Jake raised an eyebrow. ‘As you know I went to Delhi. That was for a gas pipeline. The job dragged on and when I got back you were gone. Well and truly gone.’

She could hear the bitterness in his voice and concentrated on her plate. She swallowed the brick in her throat. ‘Go on.’

He explained how he’d gone from one construction site to another, until it had all blurred into one conglomerate called work. The way Jake spoke it seemed the passion he’d once had for his work was missing. Either that or he was unwilling to share it with her. She didn’t blame him if that was the case.

Jake put down his spoon, his half-eaten gelato melting in the bowl. ‘So what happened, Meg?’

She took a big breath. ‘I didn’t want to be left alone, Jake. My father had done it long enough. I couldn’t do it again.’

‘That’s it?’

‘It was enough,’ Meg whispered hoarsely, her voice threatening to abandon her completely. She wanted to scream at him that he had no idea what it was like to be alone, to wait and then finally, when you thought you’d get some attention and love, something better came up—and it was back to the waiting. And waiting was rejection all over again. Hovering around the front window, the phone and the mailbox for any word from him.

‘Look, I don’t know whether I ever actually said it, but I’m sorry about your dad. I loved him too.’ Jake reached a hand over the table, enclosing hers in his warmth.

A delicious shudder heated Meg’s body. She looked up and her heart lurched madly at the heart-rending tenderness of his gaze.

‘I know.’ She put down the wine. ‘It must have been hard for you to be there—’ She choked on the words. She knew only too well now what had gone on in the last few minutes of her father’s life.

‘I’ll never forget that moment.’ Jake faltered. ‘When that chain slipped and that pipe fell…I’ll never forget.’

Tears sprang into her eyes and she wiped them away jerkily. That moment had changed her whole life. If Jake hadn’t been there; if her father had been standing a metre to one side; if she’d seen the truth before she’d married Jake…

She didn’t dare look at Jake. She couldn’t, just in case she broke down and told him everything—opening herself up again to him and paying for it later.

The silence between them hung heavily, becoming harder and harder to penetrate as the minutes ticked by. Meg’s mind fumbled for something to say. Anything to say.

‘So when is Vivian arriving?’ she blurted.

Jake snapped his eyes to hers, then fixed them on the bill on the table. ‘Oh, um…at six…tomorrow evening.’ He dropped some notes onto the bill and stood up.

‘I’ll make an appointment for her on Friday, then.’ Meg rose, wrapping her black cardigan around her shoulders. Pain squeezed her heart at how easily she’d been replaced in his life—if she’d ever been a part of it at all.

He put a hand around her shoulder, letting it drop to the small of her back as he steered her out of the restaurant.

The touch of his hand was almost unbearable in its gentleness, reminding her again of all she’d lost.

‘I’ll take you home.’

‘No!’ The last thing she wanted was Jake anywhere near her house. ‘I’m fine. I don’t live far. A taxi is fine.’

‘If it’s not far, then there’s no argument.’ His voice was firm, final, and he showed no sign of relenting as he nudged her towards the parked cars.

They walked down the footpath and Meg’s mind rattled around in circles. Mixed feelings surged through her. Half of her wanted to heave the hard truth from her shoulders onto his; the other wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and wait until he was gone again.

Jake stopped beside a black BMW.

Meg was surprised. ‘No four-wheel drive?’

‘I’m not your father, Meg.’ His expression darkened with an unreadable emotion.

Meg looked away. She knew that! Every inch of her knew that. How was she going to survive the drive with him when already the tension between them was making her ill?

He opened the door for her and she slipped into the car. The heady new leather smell hit her first, and then the opulence of what appeared to be a brand-new car. The seat cushioned her perfectly, and the dashboard was a myriad of controls that blurred into insignificance as Jake claimed the driver’s seat beside her.

The spacious car suddenly felt cramped. The leather scent mingled with the scent of his spicy cologne, igniting Meg’s senses, reminding her body of what it had once known, what was so close to her again.

She breathed slowly, willing herself to keep her attention away from him, away from his muscled thighs so close to her. The fabric of his trousers stretched taut as he worked the clutch, gunning the motor to life and slipping the car into motion. One hand held the wheel, the other was on the stick shift…large hands and long fingers that Meg recalled being as gentle and persuasive as they were hard and strong.

The journey seemed to take for ever. When he finally pulled up outside the terraced house she couldn’t help but expel her breath in relief.

‘My driving that bad, is it?’

‘I’m sorry.’ She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. He must think her an idiot. ‘Not used to it, I guess.’ Better to let him think he was a crazed driver than for him to know how much her body longed for him.

Jake cast a long look over his shoulder and ahead, down the dimly lit, deserted street, and then at her home. ‘I’ll walk you to your door.’

‘Thanks, but I’m fine. I can get to my own door without help.’ She could see there was a light on through the lacy curtains of the front windows. The outside light shone onto the intricate paintwork she’d had done to bring the worn old masterpiece back to her former glory. The house was brick but all the trims were timber, now a glorious rich cream.

‘A gentleman wouldn’t have a lady go to her door alone in the dark.’

‘What gentleman?’ she scoffed, trying to lighten the mood between them. ‘I don’t see one.’ She looked around the pristine car, and outside, up and down the quiet street, wishing fervently that Jake would just let it go and drive away.

‘You’re not looking,’ he said in what sounded like all seriousness, and he alighted from the car before she could say anything else.

‘Oh, really?’ she called after him. She dug her nails into the soft leather of her handbag as Jake opened her door. ‘I can do it myself.’

‘I have no doubt of that. But I’d like to show you how my manners have improved.’ He held out his hand to her.

Meg eyed it suspiciously before surrendering hers to him. She felt the surge of blood from her fingertips to her toes—he was radiating his charm and she had to be mindful not to succumb again.

He released her and cupped his hand gently under her elbow, steering her up the shadowy path to her door.

His touch was torture; her traitorous body responded instantly with shivers down her back. ‘I’m sure Vivian is thrilled with your manners.’ Meg needed to remind him as well as herself where his loyalties lay to still her body’s frenzy.

Jake didn’t falter.

Meg crossed her fingers. Nearly there. Her heart beat faster with every step closer to her front door. She wanted desperately for him to go, to turn around right there and speed off in his car, without looking back and definitely without going any closer. But she knew it was useless. Any more argument or protest would make him suspicious.

Meg extracted her elbow from his touch as soon as she reached the doorstep. She fumbled for her keys in her bag, cursing them under her breath for being so elusive at a time like this.

‘Well, thanks for a lovely evening. I hope you didn’t mind me being honest with you.’ She hoped she sounded calm and composed.

‘Not at all. Though I sort of expected a bit more.’ He regarded her with a speculative glance. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’

A cry from inside made Meg cringe.

‘What was that?’ There was an edge of concern in his voice. He tilted his head and looked at her uncertainly.

‘A cat?’ Meg prayed he’d accept it and leave.

‘There’s no way that sounded like a cat.’ She could see his jaw clench in the soft light, and his eyes narrowed and bored into hers as if he could hunt for an answer in her face.

The cry sounded again, more urgent, curling Meg’s stomach into knots. ‘I share the place with a girl with a baby,’ she blurted. She shoved the key into the lock and turned it.

‘Meg?’ Jake said hesitantly.

She paused, turning to him. ‘Yes?’ she asked innocently.

The door flung wide. The young girl’s eyes were wide and full of concern, the toddler on her hip reaching out. ‘Thank God you’re back. He’s been crying for you for ages. He just won’t settle.’ She thrust the little boy into Meg’s arms, ignoring Jake next to her.

‘Mama,’ the toddler cried. He wrapped his small arms tightly around Meg and buried his face in her neck.

Meg couldn’t bring herself to look at Jake. What could she possibly say?