Читать книгу From Mistresses To Wives? - Lee Wilkinson, Kay Thorpe - Страница 8

JESSICA gave a derisive laugh. ‘If that’s meant to be a joke of some kind, it’s a pretty poor effort!’

‘I’m not joking.’ Zac spoke quite calmly. ‘I’ll pay you a thousand to pretend to be my fiancée.’

He really was serious, she realised, studying him. Her first inclination was to tell him where he could go with his preposterous proposal, but curiosity held a stronger hand.

‘Just what kind of game are you playing?’ she demanded.

‘No game,’ he assured her. ‘I let my grandfather believe I’d found the girl of my dreams at last. Now he wants to meet her.’

‘Why?’ she asked in some confusion. ‘I mean, why tell him something that obviously isn’t true?’

‘Because it stopped him pressuring me to get married and start a family for a while.’

‘A state you’d naturally abhor.’ Jessica made no attempt to eradicate the sarcasm from her voice. ‘Hardly likely to be a very long-lasting deception, was it?’

Broad shoulders lifted. ‘So I didn’t think too far ahead at the time.’

‘Then why not just tell him the truth and have done with it?’

‘Because he only has a short time to live.’ Zac’s tone was flat. ‘And before you ask, I only found out this morning. I can’t spring it on him now. Hence the desperate straits.’

‘I doubt if you’d find any shortage of takers if you rang around.’

‘Not in the time. You’re my only hope.’

Jessica regarded him in silence for several seconds, grappling with the implications. To do what he was asking her to do would be shameful, but if the alternative meant robbing a dying man of his dearest wish…

‘It’s emotional blackmail!’ she accused.

‘I’m aware of it.’ He studied her set features. ‘If a thousand isn’t enough…’

Green eyes flared. ‘If I do it at all, it certainly won’t be for money!’ She looked at him with distaste. ‘I hope you’re proud of yourself!’

‘Not over this,’ he admitted. ‘I just wanted breathing space. Time to find a woman I could contemplate living with full time.’

‘The main problem might be finding one who could contemplate living with you full time!’ Jessica retorted, bringing a tilt to his lips.

‘Quite possibly.’

But unlikely, she was bound to admit. No man with Zac Prescott’s assets would have difficulty finding a wife.’

‘I’d have thought Leonie might fulfil your every requirement in that direction,’ she said.

‘Leonie?’ He laughed, shaking his head. ‘She’d no more want to marry me than I would her. We’re too much alike.’

‘Opposites attract, similarities endure,’ she murmured.

‘Sometimes, not always.’

‘So what would you consider ideal wife material? Someone who’d hang on your every word and worship the ground you walked on?’

The scorn made little impression. ‘Sounds pretty close.’

‘You’re about fifty years too late then.’

‘So it seems.’ Zac shook his head again, this time in mock despair. ‘I might have to settle for less than the best in the end.’

‘Whoever you did marry would have my heartfelt sympathy!’ It was weak, but the best she could come up with.

‘I’ll pass the message on, if and when,’ he said. ‘To get back to the lesser proposal, if you won’t take money, how about that job? Obviously it wouldn’t be with Prescotts, but I have plenty of contacts.’

Jessica curled a lip. ‘Don’t bother. I’ll be doing it for one reason and one reason only, and that’s to save your grandfather from knowing what a liar you are!’

‘Thanks.’ Zac neither sounded nor looked in any way discomposed by the censure. ‘So we’d better get down to discussing detail. I’ve worked out a potted history for you. All you have to do is memorise it.’

‘Taking it for granted I was going to say yes?’

The grey eyes remained steady. ‘You can learn a lot about someone in a very short time in bed.’

Jessica felt the contraction deep in the pit of her stomach, the sudden wave of heat through her body. ‘You know nothing about me!’ she exclaimed furiously, colouring afresh at the memory of those exploring hands. ‘Nothing intrinsic, at any rate. I can still back out. What would you do then?’

‘I’d be sunk,’ he admitted. ‘But you won’t back out.’

He was right, she conceded with reluctance. However much she might deplore the situation, she’d committed herself.

‘It will be easier if I use my own background,’ she said, with no intention of relinquishing at least that much control.

‘No reason why not,’ he agreed after a moment’s consideration. ‘Probably easier for me too, in fact. I’ll need a few more details though.’

‘I think you’d better fill me in on a few details first. Where exactly is your grandfather, to start with?’

‘Dorset. Near Lyme Regis. They moved down there when he retired.’

Jessica looked at him sharply. ‘They?’

‘He and my grandmother.’ Zac raised a querying eyebrow. ‘Does it make a difference?’

‘It means deceiving two people instead of one—unless you plan on telling your grandmother the truth.’

‘I think she might have enough on her plate for the time being, don’t you?’

Jessica had to agree with that too. The arrival of a waiter to exchange the unfinished desserts for coffee gave her a much needed break. She took hers strong and black in an attempt to clear her mind.

‘You said you only heard the news this morning?’ she queried when they were alone again.

Zac nodded. ‘Grandmother told me when I rang to say I wouldn’t be able to make it this weekend.’

‘The news must have been a real shock.’

A shadow passed over the incisive features. ‘Very much so. I knew he was on medication for angina, and, at eighty, I suppose it was on the cards that he might not have all that long, but I just didn’t expect it this soon.’

He briskened his tone, emotions under firm control again. ‘I haven’t given them a name as yet, so your own will do.’

Jessica held back the acrid comment. ‘How long are we supposed to have known one another?’

‘A couple of weeks or so.’

‘Obviously love at first sight!’

The satire lit a spark in his eyes. ‘It happens to others, why not to me?’

‘You’re hardly the type.’

‘I’m no out-and-out romantic, I agree, but I’m not quite as case-hardened as you seem to think.’

‘I’ll take your word for it. I already told you as much of my background as you really need to know about for now,’ Jessica went on purposefully, caught up, despite her disquietude, in the concoction. ‘Where did we meet?’

Zac gave a brief shrug. ‘At a party?’

‘You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?’ she gibed.

‘Not to any great extent,’ he admitted. He studied her for a moment, expression undecipherable. ‘You’re being very…cooperative.’

‘For your grandfather’s sake, not yours. One thing we should have clear,’ she added, arming herself against any intruding images, ‘there’ll be no physical contact between us.’

The spark was lit once more. ‘It’s hardly going to be convincing if I’m banned from even putting an arm around you.’

‘No more than strictly necessary then.’

‘Who is it you mistrust the most?’ he asked softly. ‘Me—or yourself?’

Both equally, if she were honest, Jessica could have told him. However she might feel about his behaviour in this particular matter, there was no getting away from her physical responses.

She met his gaze with what she hoped was a suitably scathing expression. ‘Modesty not exactly your strong point, is it?’

‘Attack the best means of defence?’ he countered. ‘Why do some women find it necessary to deny their natural leanings? It isn’t essential to be in love to get pleasure from love-making. I’d have thought last night would have proved that to you.’

‘We were hardly together long enough to prove anything,’ Jessica retorted, knowing even as she said it that she was fighting a losing battle. ‘When exactly do you plan on seeing your grandfather?’ she asked, thrusting the thought aside.

‘As soon as possible. If we can’t get a scheduled flight tomorrow, I’ll book a charter. We’ll be going straight down to the house, which means an overnight stay. Separate rooms, so you’ll be safe enough. Grandmother would have it no other way.’

Neither, it was on the tip of Jessica’s tongue to retort, would she. She refrained because it was more dignified to ignore the comment. ‘What about the rest of your family? Will they be there too?’

‘What’s left of it. My father and his brother were killed together in a car crash seven years ago.’ The statement was matter-of-fact.

‘I’m sorry,’ Jessica proffered. ‘It must have been hard.’

‘It was.’ Zac glanced at the thin gold watch encircling one lean wrist, face revealing little. ‘More coffee, or shall we make tracks?’

It was coming up to midnight, Jessica saw from her own watch. Looking back over the evening, she could still hardly believe what she’d agreed to do. Leonie would consider her a total idiot for getting involved in such a scheme. She wouldn’t be far wrong either.

‘I’m ready to go,’ she said. ‘I hadn’t realised it was so late.’

His smile had a sardonic edge. ‘Time flies when you’re having fun.’

It was a short walk to where they’d left the car. Although nowhere near as busy as it would be in months to come, the town was humming with activity, the night only just getting into its stride.

Aware through every nerve and sinew of the man at her side, Jessica took care to keep space between them. Had she been with Paul right now, came the thought, he would have wanted to visit at least one nightclub before retiring. She was surprised by the lack of any real pain in the memory. Perhaps her feelings for him hadn’t gone quite as deep as she’d imagined after all.

The drive back was accomplished in near silence. Jessica was thankful not to be the one tackling the steep climbs and hairpin bends in the dark. Zac insisted on seeing her as far as the main door of the apartments, though he made no attempt to solicit an invitation.

‘I’ll be here at nine,’ he said. ‘You can leave your car. I’ll arrange to have it picked up. Hopefully, we’ll be in England by mid-afternoon.’ Catching the expression that flitted across her face, he added hardily, ‘You’re not going to let me down.’

It was more of a statement than a question, but this was no time, Jessica acknowledged, to be nitpicking over inflections.

‘I’ll be ready,’ she said. ‘Although I can’t pretend to be happy about what we’re doing. I hope you can live with yourself afterwards.’

‘I’ll do my best.’ He paused. ‘Are you planning on telling Leonie about it?’

‘I’d as soon no one else knew about it!’

‘Supposing she tries to get in touch with you?’

‘I’ll ring her first thing in the morning and tell her I’m going to spend a few days on the other side of the island,’ she said. ‘What’s one more lie?’

Zac’s face remained impassive. ‘See you at nine, then.’

Jessica closed the door, watching through the glass as he strode back to the car, tall, lean and totally devastating. She had given her word. No going back. Whatever the outcome, she would deal with it.

Morning found her with certain misgivings still, but no lessening of resolve. A dying man’s peace of mind took precedence over conscience.

Allowing for the time difference, she waited until eight to put through the call to Leonie, only to have the other call her first.

‘So how did it go last night?’ asked her cousin without preamble. ‘Did you get the job?’

Jessica put everything she had into keeping her voice from revealing her inner turbulence. ‘There was no job. You were right about him. He had a hidden agenda.’

The pause was loaded. ‘Did you…?’

‘Succumb?’ Jessica forced a short laugh. ‘Give me credit for a little sense!’

‘Sense doesn’t play all that large a part in some situations,’ came the dry reply. ‘Don’t try telling me he leaves you totally cold.’

Denials would be a waste of breath, Jessica knew. She opted for cynicism instead. ‘I admit he’s got something, but hell will freeze over before I let my hormones rule me again. Anyway, I’d hardly want to trample on your preserves.’

‘I already told you, Zac’s a free spirit.’ Leonie sounded cynical herself. ‘The only reason I warned you against him was because I didn’t want you falling for him on the rebound. I take it you’ll not be seeing him again?’

Jessica steeled herself against the urge to confess all, knowing all too well what her cousin would say. ‘No. As a matter of fact, I was thinking of changing my flight and spending a few days over the other side of the island.’

‘Good idea,’ Leonie agreed. ‘Make the most of it while you can. See you when you get back.’

She didn’t wait for any response, which was fortunate as Jessica would have been hard put to it to hit the right note. Deceiving her cousin was not something she liked doing, but there was no way she could bring herself to tell her the truth.

Her bag packed, she was ready and waiting in a dark cream trouser suit when Zac arrived promptly on the hour. He gave her a deliberated scrutiny, meeting her eyes with a smile on his lips.

‘You look perfect. Grandmother will love the curls. I find them pretty appealing myself, if it comes to that.’

Jessica gave him a less than appreciative look, disregarding the impact he made in the same pale grey suit he had worn the other night, this time with a dull gold shirt. ‘You don’t need to start playing the part yet.’

‘Just getting the feel of it,’ he responded. ‘I’d doubt if Grandfather’s mind is any less astute than it ever was.’

‘There’ll come a time when you have to come clean,’ she pointed out. ‘To your grandmother, at least.’

‘I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’ Zac made an abrupt movement. ‘Let’s go.’

He carried her bag down to the car and stowed it in the boot alongside his own, then saw her into the passenger seat. Jessica stopped herself from moving away when he slid in behind the wheel, but only just. Relatively spacious though the car interior was, he was still too close for comfort. The clean fresh tang of his aftershave tantalised her nostrils.

The car had air-conditioning, but Jessica had no quarrel with Zac’s preference for open windows. She took off her jacket and tossed it to join his on the back seat, enjoying the cool rush of air on her bare arms. Cut to follow the shape of her body without undue clinging, the sleeveless, emerald green top drew a frankly appraising glance, making her wish she’d kept the jacket on. The last thing she’d want was for him to think she was flaunting herself.

‘You said your grandfather was eighty,’ she remarked, looking for something—anything—to talk about. ‘Is your grandmother younger?’

‘The same, within a couple of months. They grew up next door to one another.’ Zac gave a dry smile. ‘I’d say their fates were sealed from an early age.’

‘Do they know we’re coming?’

‘I rang last night to say we’d be there for dinner.’

Jessica gave him a surprised glance. ‘But it must have been going up the hill for two by the time you got to the hotel.’

‘I meant earlier.’ There was no element of apology in his tone. ‘A calculated gamble.’

‘Do you take chances in business affairs too?’ she queried after a moment.

‘On occasion. Playing it safe all the time makes for a very dull life. I haven’t fallen on my face yet.’

‘There’s always a first time,’ Jessica retorted. ‘Your grandfather still has to be convinced.’

‘He will be.’

She looked out of the side window, hoping he was right. To be caught out in a lie of this magnitude at such a time was beyond contemplation.

They were at the airport by ten fifteen. Zac, it turned out, had already phoned through before leaving the hotel, and managed to book two seats on a scheduled flight leaving at midday. Jessica took the time to cancel her reservation on the following day’s flight, accepting the lack of refund due to short notice as a matter of course. Right now it was a minor consideration.

Flying first class was an event in itself. Cocooned in soft leather comfort, a glass of champagne at her elbow, Jessica was forced to concede the advantages. If the engagement was for real, this was the kind of lifestyle she would be living from now on. Few people could honestly claim to find nothing appealing in that notion.

Only it wasn’t for real. Once the weekend was over, she and Zac would go their separate ways—with any subsequent fallout from the deception his problem. The fact that she was going to find him difficult, if not downright impossible, to forget was her problem. How did one go about forgetting a man who set every nerve ending on fire?

She stole a glance at him, relaxed in his seat, head back against the rest, eyes closed. The firm lines of his mouth aroused an aching desire to know its touch again; she felt her nipples spring to life at the very thought. A weakness she’d better get a hold on if she was to emerge from this encounter with some shred of self-respect left, she told herself hardily.

Zac had a car at Heathrow. By two o’clock English time, they were on the road.

After a week of warm sun, the pouring rain was hardly scheduled to lift any spirits. Jessica found hers sinking ever deeper as the miles went by. However good the intention, she was entering into a conspiracy to deceive a dying man. If Zac himself felt no shame, she certainly did.

‘I’m not sure I can go through with this,’ she said.

Zac gave her a swift glance, his jaw firming. ‘You can’t back out now!’

‘You can’t make me carry on with it!’ she responded.

‘Not physically, perhaps. But ethically you’re…’

‘You’re a fine one to talk about ethics!’ Jessica shot back. ‘If you hadn’t lied in the first place, none of this would be necessary!’

‘I’m aware of it. As time travel isn’t yet possible, unfortunately, we’re all of us stuck with the mistakes we make. You agreed to do this for my grandfather’s sake, not mine. He’s the one you’d be letting down.’

Jessica bit her lip. ‘All right. I’ll do my best.’

‘Thanks.’ His tone had softened. ‘You’re one in a million, Jess!’

For once she allowed the shortening of her name to pass. There were far more important things to think about.

It was coming up to six o’clock when they finally reached their destination. Lying a couple of miles from the coast, Whitegates turned out to be a converted nineteenth-century farmhouse set within several acres of land. Getting from the car on the wide fronting driveway, Jessica stood for a moment to view the place, loving its timelessness, its air of tranquillity.

‘Not what you were expecting?’ asked Zac, moving back to open the boot.

‘I hadn’t actually thought about it,’ she admitted. ‘I suppose if I had, I might have imagined something built to order.’

‘More suited to a retired elderly couple?’

‘Well…yes. This is wonderful, but it must be a lot of work.’

‘A fair amount,’ he agreed. ‘But help isn’t too much of a problem. They have a daily maid-cum-cook, plus a whole army of cleaners, gardeners, whatever, to call on.’

Silly of her to think otherwise considering the family background, Jessica reflected. Finances would hardly be strained.

The woman who appeared at the top of the steps leading up to a side door fitted no conventional grandmother image for certain. Tall and slim in a pair of tailored blue trousers and matching shirt, her silvered hair superbly cut to frame her face, she looked nowhere near her age.

‘I was beginning to wonder if you were ever going to get here,’ she said. The smile she gave Jessica was strained. ‘It’s so nice to meet you at last.’

‘I’m only sorry it had to be under these circumstances,’ Jessica rejoined, hating herself for her part in this travesty—hating Zac even more at the moment for involving her in the first place.

‘Where is Grandfather?’ asked Zac.

‘In the sitting room waiting for you.’ The faded blue eyes appraised the bags he was carrying, lingering on Jessica’s so much larger suitcase. ‘How long are you planning on staying?’

‘No set plan.’ Zac ignored Jessica’s swift glance. He pressed a kiss to his grandmother’s cheek. ‘How’s he taking it?’

To Jessica, the expression that flickered across the older woman’s face was more reminiscent of discomfiture than distress. Her tone when she answered was oddly evasive.

‘As he takes everything. He’s very much looking forward to seeing you both.’ The pause was brief. ‘He’d prefer you didn’t mention his condition. Just treat him as normal.’

The side door led directly into a big stone-floored kitchen. Apart from the dark green Aga range fitted into a wide recess that had probably once been the fireplace, the room was unmodernised, with solid old cupboards and dressers, its rough plastered walls painted a deep warm terracotta. Exposed beams ran across the ceiling.

The woman preparing vegetables at one of the two Belfast sinks looked round with a smile at their entry.

‘Nice to see you again, Mr Zac.’ The glance she cast Jessica’s way was frankly curious. ‘Congratulations to you both!’

Zac returned the smile. ‘Thanks. Jessica, meet Dulcie.’

Jessica made a suitable acknowledgement of both introduction and wishes, gearing herself for what was still to come. She felt terrible again already, and this was only the beginning. The thought of facing a dying man with the same lies on her lips made her want to throw up.

They left the bags where Zac had dropped them, and followed his grandmother across a wide hall to a beamed sitting room beautifully furnished and decorated in period. The figure stretched out on a sofa beneath one of the mullioned windows appeared to be sleeping. Lean in build, with a full head of white hair above a thin but by no means emaciated face, he looked far from the frail old man Jessica had been anticipating.

‘Don’t waken him,’ she said impulsively as Mrs Prescott reached to touch his shoulder. ‘He must need all the sleep he can get.’

She was too late. He was already opening his eyes. Grey eyes, like his grandson’s, though lacking the steely clarity. She found a smile as they locked onto her face.

‘Hello, Mr Prescott. I’m Jessica.’

‘Welcome to the family, Jessica,’ he said, with none of the confusion that might be expected of someone just woken from sleep. ‘I’ve waited a long time for this.’

‘Let Zac help…’ she began as he made to lever himself upright, breaking off as she recalled his wife’s injunction.

‘I don’t need cosseting,’ he rejoined without particular inflection.

His wife looked as if she was about to make some comment, spreading her hands in a dismissive gesture as he gave her a frowning glance. ‘Pull up a chair for the girl, Zac,’ he commanded.

Zac did so, face revealing little of what was going on inside his head. Jessica could only hope his guilt was eating him up to the same degree.

‘So tell me about yourself,’ the old man invited. ‘You’ve certainly got the looks I’d have expected, but there has to be more to you than that to throw a noose round this grandson of mine.’

Jessica shook herself inwardly. Dying he might be, easy to fool he most certainly wasn’t. She was going to need all her wits about her to make this convincing.

‘I’ve no hidden depths,’ she disclaimed. ‘What you see is what you get.’

The chuckle was unexpected. ‘I’ll form my own judgement. So, how did the two of you meet?’

Forward planning certainly paid off, came the fleeting thought. ‘At a party,’ she said.

‘You were drawn to one another across a crowded room, eh?’

She gave a laugh, drawing on her imagination. ‘Actually, we ran into one another—literally—dancing. I put a heel in Zac’s instep, so it was hardly what you’d call an auspicious beginning.’

‘It obviously made an impression on him.’

‘Like being poleaxed!’ Zac’s tone was light. ‘I’ve been out of circulation ever since.’

‘One good woman is worth a thousand of the other kind,’ his grandfather rejoined. ‘You’ve sown enough wild oats.’

‘A man must do what a man must do,’ Jessica observed blandly, opting for a bold approach. ‘I daresay you did some sowing of your own before you met your wife.’

‘I was married at twenty,’ he said.

She bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘No need.’ He was obviously enjoying her discomfiture. ‘How about you? Ever been in love before?’

Jessica met the shrewd gaze head on. ‘I might have thought I was.’

‘But you know the difference now?’

In for a penny, in for a pound! she thought, unable to prevaricate her way around a straight question. She softened both voice and expression. ‘Oh, yes!’

Henry Prescott had subsided back into the cushions, though not, it was apparent, with the intention of drifting off to sleep again.

‘What about family?’ he asked.

‘My parents are divorced,’ she said, reconciling herself to the inevitable. ‘Both of them remarried.’

‘I see.’ He sounded disapproving. ‘Brothers and sisters?’

‘No, I was an only child. Fate,’ she added, sensing the question before it was asked, ‘not choice. They’d have liked a son.’ Preferred would have been a better word, though she doubted if even that would have saved a marriage destined from almost the start not to run its full course. ‘I live in London now.’

Would be doing, at any rate, once this was over, she thought.

‘And what do you do for a living?’

Her hesitation was brief. ‘Secretarial.’

‘You’ll be giving it up, of course, once you and Zac are married.’

It was a statement not a question. Easy to see where his grandson got it from, thought Jessica drily. ‘I hadn’t got round to thinking about it yet,’ she said.

The old eyes bored into her. ‘But you do want children?’

‘Well…yes.’ Don’t just stand there! she thought fumingly when there was no word from Zac. ‘Four at least,’ she tagged on, throwing caution to the winds. ‘Two boys, two girls, if we can manage it.’

There was a certain satisfaction in the look Henry Prescott turned his grandson’s way. ‘It took you long enough, but it seems you might have made it good in the end.’

‘Didn’t I just,’ Zac agreed.

Jessica concentrated on her glass, conscience overtaking her once more. She was never going to forgive herself for this! They’d been here less than half an hour. The thought of keeping the act going until at least lunchtime tomorrow was daunting.