Читать книгу From Mistresses To Wives? - Lee Wilkinson, Kay Thorpe - Страница 13

IT DIDN’T prove easy. Well thought of though she’d been in her previous job, her qualifications and experience fell somewhat short of requirements in London it seemed. After being accustomed to working for one man, the thought of general clerking held little appeal. The alternative was to find something completely different.

A part-time position advertised at a Kensington food store was too good an opportunity to miss. Working ten till four, five days a week, there was no need for Zac to know anything about it.

Jessica started on checkout, finding the work repetitive but not unendurable, the other staff friendly. The salary was no big deal, but it at least gave her some sense of independence.

Zac accepted her excuse that she’d been out shopping without question when he mentioned trying to get in touch a couple of times. He didn’t say why he’d wanted to speak to her, and Jessica hesitated to ask. Relations between them were strained enough as it was. Largely due to her, she had to admit. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t come to terms with the fact that she wouldn’t be here at all in normal circumstances.

She did her best to appear properly grateful when he presented her with a mobile for use in emergencies, making a mental note to get rid of the one she’d had for years and rarely bothered with. It would have to be switched off when she was at work, of course, so she could only hope he wouldn’t have cause to try contacting her during those hours.

The only place the barriers dropped completely was in bed. When Zac made love to her, nothing else existed. His unflagging desire was the one thing that kept her going. It couldn’t last, of course. Not to the same degree. One of these nights he would plead tiredness after a long day, and the end would have begun.

Only too well aware of what Leonie’s opinion would be, she made no mention of the job to her either, making out, when asked, that she was content to hang fire for a while on the matter. Her cousin was pretty busy with her own concerns, as it happened, leaving little opportunity for getting together. She brought Greg with her the one time she came to dinner at the mews, though still denying any serious involvement.

‘I’m just not cut out for marriage,’ she said in the kitchen where the two of them were making coffee while the men talked. ‘Maybe I’ll change my mind when I’m old and lonely, but in the meantime I’m happy the way I am—beholden to nobody.

‘It certainly suits you though,’ she added with a smiling glance. ‘The look of a woman fully and frequently satisfied. Not that I’d expect any less of Zac, of course.’

Jessica let the comment pass, knowing there was no malice in the teasing. She still found it difficult to think about Leonie and Zac together in any intimate sense, but there was no point in getting upset about it. She was the one he made love to these days. The only one—or she’d better be!

The weekend they spent in Edinburgh with Isabel proved a great deal more enjoyable than she anticipated. The family consisted of a brother and wife, along with two married children who both lived within a few miles of the city with families of their own. Asked when they might consider taking the step themselves, Zac took it on himself to answer for them both with a smile and a shrug, giving the impression that they were already trying.

‘I’m not having a baby just to please your grandfather!’ Jessica stated when they were alone.

‘I’m not asking you to,’ Zac returned levelly. ‘If we started a family, it would be because we both of us wanted it.’

Unlikely, then, Jessica reflected, stifling the pang. Children belonged in a proper, balanced relationship based on love and commitment, not an arrangement like theirs that could end any time.

‘Sarah must be getting close now,’ she said. ‘Brady would have let you know, wouldn’t he?’

‘You can bet on it.’ Zac’s tone was dry. ‘He insisted on knowing the sex as soon as it was possible. If it had proved to be a girl, he’d have gone up in flames! Sons are de rigueur in his eyes.’

Looking at him through the dressing table mirror as he slid cuff links into place, Jessica felt the usual stirring in the pit of her stomach, the wave of heat building swiftly from that central core. From the top of his well-groomed dark head to the tip of his hand-made shoes, he was pure masculinity. She wanted him desperately—any way she could have him, and for as long as she could have him.

Sensing her regard, he looked round, meeting her eyes through the mirror with a familiar glint springing in his own.

‘You’re insatiable!’ he said softly. ‘Not that I’m complaining. What man would?’

He came over and drew her to her feet, bending his head to kiss his way up the taut line of her throat to finally reach her lips. Jessica kissed him back with passion. She came down to earth with reluctance when he put her regretfully from him.

‘We’ll get back to this later. We’re due at the restaurant in twenty minutes. Don’t go cold on me.’

Some chance, she thought wryly. All he had to do was touch her to have the blood throbbing in her veins again.

They’d flown up on the Friday night. They travelled back Sunday evening, arriving home around midnight.

Zac was normally out of the house by eight-thirty at the latest. This particular Monday it was coming up to half-past nine when he finally departed, leaving Jessica to throw her things together and dash for the bus she knew had no chance of getting her to work on time.

She was twenty minutes late, and earned herself a severe ticking off from the self-important manager. Jessica controlled the urge to tell him what he could do with the job. Finding another offering the same advantages when it came to hours and proximity would be difficult, and she still couldn’t face the thought of spending her days mooning around the house. In any case, she would miss the friends she’d already made here.

‘Sour-faced old prune!’ sympathised one of the latter who’d been in the vicinity, as Jessica took her place at the next checkout desk. ‘Bet his wife gave him the elbow last night. Not that I’d blame her. He’s a real misery guts!’

‘I was late,’ Jessica returned ruefully. ‘I suppose he had reason to get a bit shirty.’

‘A bit!’ The other snorted. ‘Doesn’t know the meaning of moderation, that one!’

Jessica turned her attention to the young woman who’d just unloaded her trolley onto the belt, saying a cheery ‘Hello’ to the toddler in the folding seat. A boy around two years old, he returned her gaze with solemn intensity.

‘He’s been chattering away all round the shop,’ declared his mother in fond exasperation. ‘Now you’d think he didn’t have a tongue in his head!’

Jessica smiled. ‘He’s quite right not to talk to strangers. What’s his name?’

‘Gavin,’ she supplied. ‘Just three, and a total pickle! I’m beginning to wish I hadn’t been quite so emphatic about not having a nanny when he was born.’

‘It isn’t too late,’ Jessica ventured, drawing a laugh and a shake of the head.

‘Too much of a climb down. My husband would never let me forget it! He’ll be going to nursery school before too long, anyway. That will at least give me a morning or two to myself.’

She went on chatting amiably while her goods were totalled, departing with a smile and a wave. Jessica could see part of the store car park from where she sat. The personalised number plate on the Range Rover into which the woman loaded both shopping and child was a status symbol in itself. In the nanny bracket financially, if not by choice, she judged.

She was late getting home that afternoon, because the manager insisted on her making up the time she’d lost. She got in bare minutes before Zac, who had elected to take early leave himself for once.

‘Board meetings run me ragged!’ he declared, pouring himself a stiff whisky. ‘I’m seriously considering turning beachcomber on a desert island somewhere!’ He viewed her over the rim of the glass, taking in her wind-blown hair and casual dress. ‘What have you been doing with yourself?’

‘I went to the Gardens,’ Jessica lied. ‘I felt like a walk. I took a taxi,’ she added, anticipating the next question. ‘There and back.’

The strong mouth took on a slant. ‘I’d hardly expect you to go by bus. Maybe we should think about getting you a car of your own.’

‘I’m not up to inner city driving,’ she said. ‘Anyway, there isn’t room for another car in the mews.’

Zac studied her in silence for a moment, gaze too penetrating for comfort. ‘We could move.’

‘Where?’ she asked.

‘Out of the city. Richmond, perhaps. Somewhere less congested, at any rate.’

Somewhere better to raise a child, came the fleeting thought, followed by an emphatic shake of the head. ‘I don’t want to move. I like it here, within easy reach of everything.’

His shrug was easy. ‘Fair enough. I can’t say I’m all that eager to abandon the place myself. We’re invited out to dinner tomorrow night, by the way. Ian Grant, one my fellow directors. His wife is about your age.’

‘Just us?’ Jessica asked.

‘No, there’ll be others there. Nothing too formal. That silver grey number you wore the other night will do fine.’

‘I may not have moved in your circles before, but I don’t need advising on how to dress,’ she said shortly.

‘That wasn’t the intention.’ Zac sounded short himself. ‘Stop being so damned touchy!’

Jessica caught herself up before the snappy rejoinder could leave her lips. ‘Sorry,’ she proffered instead, trying to look it. ‘I’m just feeling a bit on edge.’

He considered her pensively. ‘About what?’

‘Nothing. Everything.’ She shook her head again, forcing a smile. ‘It takes a lot of getting used to, this marriage lark. You must feel the same way yourself.’

‘To a degree,’ he admitted. ‘But I’m not complaining. You’re worth coming home to.’

She melted immediately. Zac was making every effort; the least she could do was reciprocate.

They made love on the sitting room floor, pillowed by cushions purloined from the sofas. Jessica only realised he wasn’t using anything when it was too late to do anything about it. Not that she really wanted to, she had to admit. Making love in the raw, so to speak, was even more ravishing. She was still on the Pill, anyway.

She made sure to be on time at work the next morning, taking it that with a dinner engagement to get ready for, Zac might be early again. She needn’t have worried as it happened, because it was almost seven o’clock when he arrived.

‘Traffic,’ he said succinctly. ‘We’ll be taking a taxi to the Grants’. It’s parking by permit only in their area. You look good,’ he added. ‘I’ll try to live up to you.’

The day he looked anything but good himself would be a first, Jessica reflected as he disappeared upstairs. She took a look at herself in a mirror, all prettied up in silver grey. An attractive enough sight, she supposed, though nothing particularly outstanding in her view. Leonie, for instance, could beat her for looks any day of the week!

The Grants, it turned out, lived in Kensington. Already on edge over the coming evening, Jessica felt her heart plunge even further as she registered the number plate on the Range Rover standing outside the elegant terraced home. She thought wildly of pleading a sudden migraine, but it was hardly going to be believed. All she could hope for was a lack of recognition on her hostess’s part.

A hope doomed to failure from the moment of meeting. Cathy Grant placed her immediately.

‘We already met,’ she said as Zac performed introductions. ‘Yesterday at the store.’ The confusion was apparent in both eyes and voice. ‘Have you worked there long?’

Jessica felt rather than saw Zac’s reaction. Her gaze was fixed firmly on Cathy’s face, her smile stiff as a board. ‘A couple of weeks. How’s Gavin?’

‘Oh, fine! He’s staying with his grandparents tonight.’ Cathy was making an obvious effort to put the questions that had to be crowding her mind aside. ‘Ian will introduce you round,’ she added. ‘I just need to check the oven.’

Her husband led them through to a spacious drawing room where two other couples were already ensconced with drinks. Jessica acknowledged introductions without taking in a single name, aware of Zac’s inwardly seething presence at her side. He was too well bred to make a scene in public, of course, but there was going to be hell to pay once he got her alone.

Perhaps sensing the atmosphere between them, Cathy made no further reference to their previous meeting, although the glances she occasionally cast from one to the other reflected her continuing bafflement. Jessica could appreciate her dilemma. Why would the wife of one of the company’s major shareholders find it necessary to take a job in a retail food outlet? If she mentioned it to her husband—and she was almost sure to—then it would no doubt reach Brady’s ears before long. That would really set Zac’s blood on fire!

The evening seemed to go on for ever. Jessica yearned for it to end, yet dreaded what was surely to come. Zac held his tongue in the taxi going home, waiting until they were indoors with the doors closed against the outside world before letting fly.

‘What the hell was all that about working in a supermarket?’ he demanded.

‘It isn’t a supermarket,’ Jessica answered, trying to keep a level head. ‘It’s a rather exclusive emporium catering to the needs of the upwardly mobile classes.’

Zac drew a harsh breath. ‘Don’t try making a joke of this! How do you think it reflects on me to have a wife serving on in a shop?’

Green eyes acquired a spark of their own. ‘There’s nothing demeaning in it,’ she retorted, giving up any idea of pacification. ‘I’m not into that kind of snobbery!’

‘You can call it what you like. The fact remains that you’re doing a job you’re not only over-qualified for, but have no need of to start with!’ Zac was furiously, unnervingly angry, his whole face rigid. ‘Why, for God’s sake? You have your own account, your own cheque book. What on earth could you need the kind of pin money you must be earning at that place for?’

‘It isn’t the money,’ she said. ‘It’s to do with self-respect. I refuse to live off you entirely.’ She paused, hardening her mind against any retreat. ‘You’ll just have to accept it.’

It seemed impossible for his jaw to tauten any further, but it did. ‘There’s no way I’m going to accept it! You don’t go near the place again, do you hear me?’

‘I could scarcely fail to hear you,’ she returned with asperity. ‘And you can whistle! If you don’t like the idea of my working in a shop, find me something you would consider acceptable. As you once said, you have the contacts.’

‘I won’t do that!’

‘Because you’re afraid of losing your grandfather’s respect if he discovers you’re incapable of keeping your wife in her proper place?’ she lashed out. ‘You’re no different from Brady when it all boils down. What you’d really like is for me to get pregnant to put you back on par. Well, abandoning the condoms isn’t going to do it, so you may as well forget it! I wouldn’t bring a baby into this travesty of a marriage for a pension!’

Jessica broke off, aware of having gone a great deal further than ever intended. Zac was looking at her as if he’d never really seen her before. ‘Travesty?’ he said softly.

‘Well, isn’t it?’ she defended. ‘You married me to satisfy a self-centred old man who believes he has a Godgiven right to dictate the way others should live, no other reason. Your grandmother may have been brainwashed into following his every wish, but I refuse to go on paying court to his antediluvian ideas! I’m no docile little housewife, Zac. I have a mind and a brain of my own!’

‘I never had any doubt of it,’ he returned. ‘You knew what you were taking on when you agreed to marry me. Most people would consider you’d made a rather good deal on the whole.’ He shook his head as she made to speak, his face set, his eyes like steel. ‘If it isn’t enough for you, I’ll find you a job, but you don’t go back to this store. Right?’

‘I have to,’ Jessica protested. ‘I’ll need to give notice.’

‘So let them sue. I know someone in PR who’s in need of a new secretary. I’ll give him a ring first thing in the morning and tell him the good news.’

‘How do you know he’ll find me suitable?’ she asked on a somewhat deflated note.

‘He owes me a couple of favours,’ came the crushing reply. ‘Anyway, I’d say you were capable enough.’

Jessica stood in silence as he turned away. She’d made her point, she’d even won her point, so why didn’t she feel any sense of satisfaction with the outcome?

The answer lay in Zac’s demeanour towards her, so changed from the easy manner he usually employed. Not just the fact that she’d gone behind his back to take the job, but the very real probability that Brady would get to hear of it and lose no time in passing on the news to his grandfather. If Henry Prescott ran true to form, it could well result in a changed will. He was certainly capable of it.

For the first time, Zac made no attempt to touch her in any way when they were in bed. He lay on his side facing away from her, an acre of space between them. Jessica fought the urge to tell him she’d changed her mind about having a job. It would be living yet another lie. And for what? There was more to life than the feel of a man’s arms about her.

The interview in Holbourn a few days later proved no more than a formality. Whatever Leo Brent’s true impression of her capabilities, he showed no hesitation in offering her the job. She would be taking over from his present secretary who was leaving at short notice. He didn’t say why the other woman was going, and Jessica didn’t ask. Zac would hardly have put her in line for the job if there’d been anything untoward about the man.

Having heard nothing from the shop, she could only assume that Zac had handled that matter too. She should have held out for a right and proper notice period, she knew, but she had to confess to a secret relief that she hadn’t had to fabricate reasons for leaving after such a short time.

The bedtime stand-off had lasted no more than the one night. Jessica was sorely tempted to tell him to get lost when he drew her into his arms as usual the following night, but with her pulses already galloping, she lacked the strength of mind to carry it through.

Sex might not be the answer to everything, but it certainly helped, she told herself cynically as she composed herself for sleep afterwards. Zac obviously thought so too.

She spent a day learning the ropes from the retiring secretary. The other was to accompany her husband to America where his company was transferring him.

‘I didn’t want to go at first,’ she confessed over lunch. ‘I like the life we have here. Patrick would have turned the job down if I’d insisted, but I couldn’t do that to him. Anyway, it’s only for three years.’ She laughed. ‘Ten to one I’ll not want to come back when the time comes!’

‘Murphy’s law.’ Jessica smiled back. She waited a moment or two before saying casually, ‘What’s Mr Brent like to work for?’

‘Leo,’ the other corrected. ‘He’ll insist you call him that. He’s a nice guy. Divorced four years, but a real pussy-cat of a boss. It was a relief to him when your husband put you up for the job. Meant he didn’t have to carry out any more interviews.’ Her glance was curious. ‘I shouldn’t have thought you’d have need of a job, married to a Prescott.’

‘A whim on my part,’ Jessica told her smilingly.

‘A lasting one, I hope,’ came the candid reply. ‘Leo deserves a little devotion.’

She moved on to other matters after that, leaving Jessica with the impression that there might have been more than one reason for her reluctance to move to America.

It took her less than a week of working for Leo Brent to appreciate her predecessor’s feelings. No more than medium height and looks, with an unruly thatch of fair hair that made him appear younger than his forty-two years, he exuded the kind of benevolent charm most women would find a draw.

He’d met Zac a couple of years before when working on publicity for the Orbis take-over Zac himself had gone out on a limb to promote.

‘Turned out a winner,’ he said with some personal satisfaction. ‘A smack in the eye for that cousin of his who voted against it. Of the two of them, Zac has by far the better business sense. It’s to be hoped he’s the one to take the chair when it comes up for grabs next year.’

Which wouldn’t be likely if Brady inherited all their grandfather’s holdings, Jessica reflected. Henry Prescott’s death may no longer be imminent, but the pressure still existed. It could quite easily be another ten years or more before the man breathed his last. A lifetime, if he continued to hold the same threat over his grandsons’ heads.

If word of her stint in the retail world had reached Brady’s ears, Zac made no mention of it. He made no reference to the job she was doing either. The atmosphere between them was like sitting on a volcano, waiting for something to erupt. When he made love to her it was with passion, but precious little tenderness. Hardly surprising, she supposed, when their whole relationship was based on the former rather than the latter.

‘I’m not sure how long I can stick this for!’ she burst out one night after waiting in vain for some sign of emotional involvement on his part—any sign. ‘I feel like a whore!’

‘Whores rarely experience orgasm,’ came the seemingly unmoved response. ‘If that was acting just now, you made the wrong career move!’

There was a pause, a sudden heavy sigh. He drew her back to him, his kiss soft on her lips. ‘You’re right. I’ve been a boor. How about we agree to differ over the job thing, and start over?’

Jessica didn’t hesitate. Compromise was better by far than warfare. She gave her answer in deed rather than word, rousing him to life again—though this time in far gentler mode.

There was hope for this marriage of theirs yet, she thought in the hazy, lazy aftermath of their love-making, when they lay entwined in each other’s arms. They were closer at this moment in every sense than they had ever been.