Читать книгу Terms Of Possession - Elizabeth Power, Elizabeth Power - Страница 8

STIFLED by the heat in the overcrowded train, Nadine stood clinging to the handgrip, praying for her station to emerge through the darkness of the Underground as a wave of sickness washed over her.

What was it they said? That it only lasted three months? Well, roll on three months! she thought wistfully as her stomach lurched with the rolling motion of the train. But what then?

With a little shiver of reluctance she recalled Cameron’s resolute promise to her the previous day. Did he intend to fight her for custody eventually, as he’d threatened to do, even without Lisa? Knowing, as he’d already admitted, that he would probably have no chance—or very little—of succeeding? Or did he despise her so much for being—as he believed—instrumental in destroying his marriage, that he intended to make her pay in some other humiliating way?

She fought a cold, queasy fear as she remembered his remark about taking his money’s worth, recalled the hostility of his kisses before he had finally gained command of himself again, and she was glad when at last the train whined to a standstill and she was out of the Underground. Although her troubles were only compounded by the news which was waiting for her at the office.

‘Larry’s gone,’ Marion, the junior partner’s secretary, came into her tiny office to tell her. ‘He had words with our senior early this morning and walked out. I think it was the ear-ring that finally did it.’ The young woman offered a sympathising smile. ‘I thought I ought to warn you, though…’ She hesitated, as though searching for the right words. ‘I heard the old man telling the other partners he wouldn’t be replacing him…So I don’t quite know where that leaves you.’

Redundant, Nadine thought with a despairing grimace. She had her worst fears confirmed within minutes of the other girl’s revelation and by that lunchtime she had cleared out her desk and left.

Not that she had been compelled to, she reflected when she was on her way to register with the nearest secretarial agency; they had given her the choice of working until the end of the month. But to avoid awkward questions she had planned to leave anyway, before her pregnancy started to show, and so this way, she decided, was best. At least if she was working for an agency suspicions wouldn’t be aroused if her morning sickness sometimes prevented her from getting in some days until after ten!

Fortunate enough to secure a temporary assignment starting the very next day, she found herself working in a very plush insurance office on the other side of town.

She had given the convalescent home the agency’s number in case someone should need to contact her urgently. She was disappointed, however, to have received no contact from Lisa, though she had been only half expecting to, nor a mere telephone call from Larry—if only to express regrets over putting her out of a job!

Still, he was probably too busy looking for one himself, she thought wryly, coming out of the modern office with two other girls at the end of the week. Her companions’ animated, ‘Ooh, what a car! What a man!’ coupled with, ‘Friend of yours, Nadine?’ drew her attention to the gleaming black Mercedes parked at the kerb, whose driver’s window was whirring smoothly open.

‘Hello, Nadine.’ Cameron’s smile was coolly reserved. ‘Get in. I’ll take you home.’

Nadine’s hackles rose at his arrogance in assuming that she was going straight home or that she would even step into his car after the way he had treated her the other day. But her colleagues were responding to that supreme masculine confidence in a way that told her they would take him up on his offer if she didn’t, and the last thing she wanted was to make a scene in front of them, so reluctantly she obeyed, her senses instantly assailed by the light, evocative scent of his cologne mingling with the expensive leather of the upholstery.

‘I’m surprised you haven’t got your own transport by now,’ was his casual comment after he had reminded her to fasten her seatbelt and was pulling away from the kerb.

What did he mean? That he had paid her well enough to afford to? she thought, and decided to dismiss it, giving him the benefit of the doubt by responding with, ‘Driving’s a nightmare in London. I don’t think it’s worth the hassle. Also, it was a choice of running a car or having a decent place to live and I chose the second.’

‘A case of priorities?’

She nodded, wondering if he’d ever had to make similar choices. His car was automatic, too, she remembered from last time, trying not to think about that devastating weekend with him as she watched him drive, not needing to change gear, manoeuvring the big car in and out of the rush-hour traffic with an ease that made a mockery of her statement about driving being a nightmare. Instinctively she knew that everything he did would be effortless.

‘Why did you leave your job?’ For a second that blue gaze lanced across her, piercingly interrogative as it rested on the fine beige cotton of her suit, the rich sheen of her sun-burnished hair. ‘Hoping to avoid any unwanted communication with the father of your child? Is a domestic move on the agenda as well?’

‘No, it isn’t!’ A flush washed over Nadine’s skin from the scathing quality of his remarks, and just to show him that she wasn’t going to be pushed around, she blurted out, ‘And what if it were? It’s absolutely no business of yours where I live—or how often I change my job. And for your information, Cameron, I happen to have been made redundant!’

Surprise lessened the dark austerity of his profile. ‘What happened?’

When she told him, unintentionally allowing disappointment over Larry’s failure to contact her to creep into her voice, he said, ‘Sounds about par for the course. Larry Lawson’s suffering from a severe case of immaturity—rebelling for rebellion’s sake against everything that’s got him where he is and that he’s privileged enough to be part of. He’s going to have to do some growing up if he’s going to succeed in law.’

‘Oh, really?’ A fiery wave cascaded over her shoulder as she turned to face him. ‘And I suppose you know him well enough to make such profound accusations about him?’ she breathed, indignation bringing her leaping rather too readily to her friend’s defence.

‘Only in so far as the few professional dealings I’ve had with him. And the fact that he comes from a long line of very competent solicitors. I know his father.’

‘You would.’

The obstinate thrust to her lower lip made him smile, the smile more that of a gloating conqueror than an ally. ‘What’s wrong, Nadine?’ His tone was smooth as he changed lanes and started signalling to take a right-hand turning. ‘Don’t you like it when someone stakes a claim on something that is rightfully theirs?’

He meant the baby, and on a small, desperate note she said, ‘It belongs to me as well.’

‘Yes.’ He ground the word through clenched teeth, as though he regretted having ever laid eyes upon her. ‘And as such we’ll discuss it. Where you’re going to live during the term of your pregnancy. What you’re going to do-because like it or not—it is my business, and while you’re carrying my child you’ll do what’s best for it, Nadine.’

She watched a black London cab making a U-turn through the busy traffic. Taxis got away with murder, she thought absently, because they had the gall.

‘Oh, don’t worry, I intend to!’ she retorted hotly, despite the sudden clutch of fear in her stomach that with this man there would be no turning round, no going back on anything he’d said.

‘Oh, yes, I forgot!’ He uttered a harsh, humourless laugh. ‘I’ve provided you with quite a little nest-egg, haven’t I?’

‘You’ll get it back!’ she promised vehemently, to herself as well as to Cameron. ‘Every last penny!’ Secretly, though, she despaired. She owed him a fortune, and from where she was sitting she couldn’t see a day when she would ever be out of his debt. ‘And as for looking after my baby, I can assure you I’m more than capable.’ Quickly she was changing the subject in an attempt to convey responsibility to him. ‘I’ve got a home. A job—’

‘For how long?’ He cast a disparaging glance at her as they came around the corner. ‘Look at you,’ he rasped, keenly aware of the pale, pinched look a more than usually bad day of nausea had given to her fine features. ‘You look all-in before you start. So what are you planning to do for the next six months? Go haring off to every corner of the city at a moment’s notice? Carry on as if you only had yourself to think about? Hardly a very responsible outlook for a woman in your condition. And what happens afterwards? After it’s born?’

His words stirred anxieties she was trying for the moment not to think about and, sticking her chin out defiantly, she murmured, ‘I’ll cope.’

‘Yes,’ he accepted on a harshly released breath. ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’ There was hard disparagement in the deep voice, in the tough rigidity of his jaw. ‘In an expensive flat? With no transport? And what will you do when you’re out temping? Employ a nanny? You’ll be lucky even to be able to pay her bus-fare on a secretary’s pay! Or was that taken into consideration out of the money you squeezed out of me to father your child?’

Recoiling from his understandable accusation, she searched for some satisfactory answer. But only honesty could redeem her, she realised hopelessly, remaining silent as relentlessly he went on.

‘You’re going to wind up in a crummy little bed-sit-living off the state, Nadine. And I’ll be darned if I’ll allow any offspring of mine to endure an existence like I had. Shunted around from aunt to aunt while its mother’s off somewhere trying to earn a living. Living hand to mouth, trying to make ends meet. Wearing the stigma not only of illegitimacy but of deprivation…’ He laughed coarsely at the shock that had manifested itself on Nadine’s face. ‘Oh, yes. Didn’t you know?’

No, she hadn’t, she thought, stunned, unable wholly to believe it. The inimitable Cameron Hunter? Illegitimate? Poor?

‘So you didn’t.’

Her face must have told him that, she realised, while her brain was still deducing what mental strength and character must have brought him from such humble beginnings to occupy the respected position he held today. The knowledge only served to make her feel even more intimidated by him.

‘No, Lisa didn’t tell me,’ she said quietly.

‘I wonder why?’

Had she imagined that sudden drag of breath through his lungs, that sharpened edge to his voice? Or was she mistaking deep, masculine pain…?

‘Has she…? I mean, have you heard anything—?’ She broke off, hesitating, flinching as he came back with a swift, cutting retort.

‘Do you really care?’ Tension made the line of his cheek more prominent, whether from anger or some other personal emotion Nadine wasn’t sure. ‘Well, you’re going to be made to care—for the future of our child if nothing else,’ he promised with inexorable softness. ‘And just in case you’ve got any ideas of flitting off somewhere where you think I can’t reach you, you’re going to pack in both that job and that flat of yours and live under my roof—in my cottage—as originally arranged, until the child’s born!’

A surge of hot anger burned through Nadine’s veins from his supreme arrogance. ‘That’s what you think!’ she riposted determinedly. There was no way she was agreeing to that! He was right, though. She wanted to get as far away from him as she possibly could, to minimise the risk of his trying to take the baby away from her. ‘You can hardly force me to, can you?’ she challenged him on a small note of defiance.

And perhaps he realised it too, she thought, relieved when his mouth firmed in what she could only deduce was frustrated acknowledgment and he went on to ask in an almost bored tone, ‘How’s your mother keeping these days?’

Glancing out at the eternal queues at the bus-stops, the endless traffic, Nadine felt her body stiffen. ‘All right.’ It was difficult to lie—to pretend.

‘What did she say when you told her you were pregnant?’

She looked at him quickly. Why did he want to know that?

Unconsciously her fingers tightened around the handbag on her lap. ‘I haven’t,’ she answered, as nonchalantly as she was able.

‘Oh?’ Cursorily he glanced across at her, his gaze travelling down over the shallow rising of her breasts to her fingers curling tensely into the soft fabric of her bag. ‘But you’re going to? Or are you planning not to chance a visit home until after you’ve given birth?’

He sounded mildly amused and she said, ‘Of course I’ll tell her.’

‘But you won’t be telling her the absolute truth?’

She made a distinct effort to relax as she saw his glance stray casually to her hands again. ‘No,’ she responded cautiously, wondering why he had sounded so sure.

‘What are you going to tell her?’

‘I don’t know,’ she murmured, and was glad when he leaned across to close the central air-vents, because the exhaust fumes from a dusty van in front were making her feel sick.

He started talking casually about pollution then, and the growing congestion in the city—things she felt strongly enough about herself to be able to engage in sympathetic discussion with him until he turned into the street of smart, semi-detached houses, pulling up outside her flat.

‘There you are,’ he said almost congenially, a smile touching his lips as he clicked the handbrake into place, and then, surprisingly, pulled the keys out of the ignition. ‘Now, do as you’re told and go up and pack as many things as you’ll need to see you through a long stay in the country, because you’re moving into that cottage tonight!’

Startled flecks showed in Nadine’s green eyes as she stared at him. ‘By whose authority?’ she snapped, flabbergasted.

‘By your own glimmer of a conscience, Nadine.’ Leather squeaked softly as he turned to face her, one finely clad arm resting disturbingly across the back of her seat. ‘Unless, of course, you would prefer me to pen a very detailed and informative account of your behaviour to your mother—?’

‘You wouldn’t dare!’

He didn’t even need to answer that. Seeing the inexorable determination on that uncompromising mouth, Nadine realised now what he had been doing when he had asked those seemingly casual questions about her mother. He’d been testing the water, as the saying went-or her reaction anyway—understanding her body language with all the skill and shrewdness of his profession.

He’d obviously heard her telling Lisa all those weeks before not to mention their arrangement to Dawn Kendall if she, Nadine, did become pregnant; had heard her begging Lisa, making her promise. He’d clearly realised how desperate she’d been to keep it from her mother, even if he hadn’t known—still didn’t know—the reason why. And now she’d played right into his hands! she thought hopelessly, without seeing the manipulation behind those cleverly posed questions. Otherwise she could have said she’d already told her mother the truth, or that she was intending to. Anything but suffer this humiliating defeat.

‘You calculating bastard.’

‘Right on target.’ He smiled without warmth, bringing embarrassed colour to her cheeks as she realised the hardhitting implication of what she had just called him. ‘And as far as the adjective goes, that makes two of us, doesn’t it?’ he said smoothly, aware of her embarrassment as he got out and came round to open her door with a courtesy that surprised her in the circumstances.

It only took an hour for her to pack the things she needed to take, although she filled a large suitcase and a substantial-sized travelling bag.

‘Leave that,’ Cameron ordered when she went to pick it up to follow him down with her suitcase to the car.

‘Why? Scared I might overdo things?’ she couldn’t help taunting sarcastically, but he ignored it, stooping to pick up the travelling bag with her case and carrying them both effortlessly downstairs.

She had been in the bathroom, checking that she hadn’t forgotten anything, and heard Cameron coming back just as she came out into the hall.

‘Let’s get one thing straight,’ he advised grimly, ‘before we go any further, and that’s that I don’t care an iota what happens to you. But I am concerned for the welfare of my child, and while you’re carrying it you’ll take every possible precaution to protect it. Do I make myself clear?’

Perfectly, she thought, trying to deny just how much his confessed lack of concern for her had hurt. And, of course, she was going to take every step necessary to safeguard her baby. But she didn’t tell him that, snapping back instead, ‘What will you do? Pass sentence on me if I don’t?’ And with that deliberately provocative remark she brushed past him with her chin in the air, out to the gleaming saloon.

It was dark when they arrived at the cottage—Cameron’s insistence on stopping for a meal en route, which she had felt too nauseous to eat, which he had interpreted as rebellion, having necessitated a good hour’s break in their journey.

Now, as they pulled up in the country lane outside the solitary little house, Nadine’s stomach seemed to come up into her mouth.

‘Would you give me a minute?’ she uttered as he started getting out of the car, despising herself for the way it had come out—as an almost feeble appeal. She didn’t want to make a fuss—show any weakness in front of him.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘I feel sick.’ Suddenly she was forced to swallow her pride and tell him, leaning sharply forward, her hand clamped over her mouth.

‘I thought that was a morning problem,’ he remarked when she sat back again.

‘So did I.’ Feeling easier, she uttered an ironic little laugh. ‘I think my body-clock’s stuck permanently on a.m. at the moment.’

‘Why the hell didn’t you tell me?’ He sounded surprisingly concerned, but she merely shrugged, deciding against reminding him of his earlier remark about not caring about her. ‘You’ve been to sleep,’ he said laconically—which was something, she thought, that she seemed to be doing all the time lately. ‘That might not have helped. Wait here.’

He got out of the car and she watched his tall, shadowy figure moving through the little gate, along the garden path; she heard the jangle of keys then the door opening, before light flooded through the aperture, spilling out across the step and two superb hydrangea bushes that were growing near the house.

‘Come on.’ The touch of his hand on her elbow was

gentle if not caring, and unwelcome sensations assailed her as she teetered unsteadily and felt a supportive arm go across her back.

‘I’m all right,’ she protested with mild vehemence, trying to pull away.

‘The devil you are.’ He swore roughly under his breath. ‘And it isn’t going to help not eating properly. You’re going to get something inside you,’ he asserted, that strong arm keeping her locked to his side as he guided her along the path.

‘I couldn’t,’ she uttered, her mind rejecting his electrifying nearness as much as her stomach rejected the thought of food.

‘You can and you will. You’ll eat little and often and drink plenty of fluids,’ he told her, surprising her with a knowledge of her condition she hadn’t expected him to possess. ‘You might think you can’t stomach anything, but it will help the nausea, believe me.’

On that, at least, she thought later, when she was sitting on the floral-patterned settee tucking into the dry toast and tea he had made her, he had been right, because the sickness had certainly begun to subside.

‘Did…you and Lisa come here for weekends?’ she asked hesitantly as he came in from the car with her luggage. The room, though spacious and well-furnished, reflected an old-world charm which was certainly not Lisa’s taste, she thought, remembering her friend’s liking for stark, contemporary designs.

‘No,’ he answered, and so tersely that she wondered if she should have mentioned it since he was still obviously blaming her for the break-up of his marriage. But then, in surprisingly neutral tones, he said, ‘Lisa never stayed here. This place belonged to an aunt of mine, and when she died last year it passed to me. I don’t get down here as often as I’d like, but it’s always been the perfect spot to come when I want to unwind and get life back into perspective. It’s also where I did a lot of my growing up.’

Of course. He had said he’d lived with various aunts, Nadine remembered, feeling the sudden throb of her pulse as her gaze clashed with his, the dark sapphire of his eyes holding hers with a hard, unsettling intensity.

What was he thinking? she wondered, weakened by a sexual magnetism she didn’t want to acknowledge. Because he had discarded his tie, loosened the pristine white shirt, so that she was disturbed by mental images of the last time she had seen him like that, in that other country house, but determinedly she pushed them out of her mind.

He might appeal to every feminine instinct she possessed, but she was only here with him now because of the consequences of that other time; because she was expecting his baby—the baby he had planned to share with Lisa. But he was still Lisa’s husband, and it was only because it was his baby that he was showing any concern or responsibility towards her, Nadine. What secret feelings she might harbour for him counted for nothing.

‘You look tired.’ Cameron’s voice was coolly detached. ‘I think you’d better go to bed. Come on, I’ll show you your room.’

His tone stirred a reckless rebellion in her, but she didn’t have the energy to argue and compliantly she went ahead of him, up the creaking stairs.

The room he showed her into had the same quaint charm as the sitting-room: the coverlet on the double bed matching the gaily floral curtains and valance, the predominant leafy greens picking out the natural green in the carpet.

‘The bathroom’s next door,’ he informed her, lifting her case up on to the chest beside the door. ‘If you need anything just call. I’m just along the corridor.’

Picking up on his last words, Nadine looked at him quickly. ‘Aren’t you…going back tonight?’ she asked, realising how foolish that sounded in view of the hour, and despairing of herself for letting him see how unsettled that made her feel as he smiled, mockingly aware.

‘No, Nadine, I’m not.’ He strode across to the bed where he deposited her travelling bag. ‘Were you imagining I was? Would you feel happier if the father of your child wasn’t around? Is that it?’

When she didn’t answer, too weary to launch herself into another verbal battle with him, he said, ‘Well, I’m going to be around—at every available opportunity. No child of mine is going to be deprived of its father-whether its mother likes it or not! So you’d better get used to the idea, sweetheart, and you’d better get used to it now!’

As he’d spoken he had tugged back the bedcovers on one side to reveal the crisp white pillowcases. Signs of a woman’s touch, Nadine couldn’t help thinking, although he had said Lisa didn’t come to the cottage. She guessed that he had someone in on a regular basis to clean.

‘You didn’t have to drag me away from my job—not so soon, anyway,’ Nadine protested tiredly, although feeling as she did at the moment she wasn’t totally averse to a break. ‘What am I supposed to do for the next few months, buried down here, miles from anywhere?’

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ he drawled, pulling the chintzy curtains on the night-shrouded countryside. ‘And, as I said, I’ll make it my business to be around as often as I can. It might not be what you want, but you were certainly quick enough to agree to it when you were planning this little campaign of single motherhood for yourself. What you seemed to overlook was that it takes two to accomplish conception, and in any form of partnership you can’t have all your own way. When you’re over the worst and feeling better you can get back to your typewriter, if you feel inclined to, but I don’t see any point in your wasting all your valuable legal experience in some insurance office. You’ll probably find more job satisfaction—and certainly less risk to our child—working here, for me.’

Feeling the dressing-table immediately behind her, Nadine leaned back, with her hands on its smooth surface to steady herself, rocked by the absolute audacity of the man.

‘Why?’ she enquired brittly, too bruised and angered by his mistaken opinion of her even to try to defend herself, or to wonder exactly what he was proposing. ‘As surety? To make sure I pay back all the money you think I wheedled out of you? She finished with bitter cynicism, because—heaven help her!—she would. She didn’t know how. But somehow—some day—she would!

She caught her breath as he came too close for her to move away from the dressing-table, that elusive scent of him playing dangerous games with her senses as he caught her small chin between his thumb and forefinger and said, ‘Oh, you’ll pay.’ His tone was lethally soft. ‘But not in the way you’re imagining, Nadine. Money doesn’t even figure in the cost you’re going to have to settle with me. Now go to bed, like a good girl. Unless of course…’ His gaze strayed down across the inviting softness of the bed so that, panicking, she pushed at him with all her strength and caught his softly mocking laughter as he went out.