Читать книгу Amber's Wedding - SARA WOOD - Страница 8

CHAPTER ONE

‘DID you say...the Caribbean?’

Astonished, Amber whirled around so fast that her gossamer bridal veil flew across her face, obscuring her view for a moment. Impatiently she pushed it back and thrust her heavy mass of red-gold hair off her bare shoulders for good measure. ‘You’re kidding me!’ she accused her old friend.

Leo leaned against a pillar of the minstrels’ gallery and grinned. ‘Well! I’ve got your attention at last! Here I am, telling you that I’m setting up home in St Lucia,’ he protested, ‘and all you can do is drool over your new husband!’

‘Jake?’ Her surprise wiped out Leo’s startling news. Amber frowned. Had she been drooling? How odd! ‘I wasn’t... surely?’

‘Constantly!’

‘I didn’t know!’ She recovered herself and managed to look bashful. ‘I’d be an odd bride if I didn’t.’

And an odd bride she most definitely was! It was more than likely that her marriage to Jake was the oddest that had ever taken place in Castlestowe’s small kirk. A marriage of convenience. No sex, no emotional hassle, only a warm affection. Perfect.

She had no particular feelings for Jake other than those of friendship. That was why her apparent fascination for him baffled her. Before she could stop herself, she glanced down at the throng below, suffering Leo’s fond chuckle as she did so.

Guests in bright tartans and colourful ballgowns filled Castlestowe Castle’s baronial hall. Jake’s tall, athletic figure in a black dinner jacket stood out amongst them. But then he would be very striking in any crowd.

Amber studied his lampblack, Byronic curls and extraordinarily arresting face. Tonight he seemed to glow with joy, his dark eyes alight with the kind of shining happiness of any blissful groom. But he wasn’t a blissful groom. So why was he ecstatic?

She frowned and tried to forget the misgivings she’d had ever since Jake had said, ‘I do,’ and smiled at her with disarmingly warm affection. When she’d returned the smile, she’d thought for a moment that there had been a curl of desire on his eloquent mouth. And she wanted friendship. Unfortunately he was sexy. He was a man—and she didn’t have much faith in men’s promises when their hormones were involved.

‘I suppose Jake must seem like a different person to you now he’s more conventionally dressed. A DJ isn’t the same as a bush shirt, flak jacket and decorative dust,’ Leo said helpfully.

Yes. That was why she’d found Jake intriguing—the sartorial contrast. Mystery solved! ‘Elegant, isn’t he? I never knew he could look so civilised!’ she agreed with a light laugh.

Almost civilised, but not quite, she mused. There was an element of Jake that scared her a little. It was partly the fact that he risked his life a mite too often, partly something she couldn’t define. Behind the charm and the laid-back manner, she sensed something darker. There was a whole bunch of secrets in those near-black, fathomless eyes.

Several times during their acquaintance in the past when she’d been chatting animatedly to him about her family back home he’d made an abrupt excuse and left, as if her joy had hurt him somehow. She’d learnt to throttle back on the happy-family stories, sensing that he had problems that he did not wish to share. No one had ever got close to Jake or broken the seal over his heart. And it was clear that he was a fascinating challenge to women.

They’d known one another for years, off and on—he in his capacity working for Reuters, the most highly respected news agency in the world, she as a fieldworker for Unite, the organisation that brought lost refugee children back to their parents. They’d met in Bucharest, bumped into one another in Sarajevo and Rwanda and recently on another African posting.

And every time he’d eased his lithe body out of a Jeep on his habitual rounds of the refugee camps he’d turned the women workers’ heads with his devastating charm, his sword-blade cheekbones and wickedly dancing eyes. The adjective most commonly used about Jake was stunning. Women found him easy to get on with—a beguiling man with a core of steel.

A twinge of anxiety troubled her chocolate-brown eyes. That sexy manner had been the only thing about him that had made her hesitate when they’d arranged the marriage. Only the warmth she felt for him and his assurance that he understood how she felt had persuaded her to agree. Jake knew how she felt about sex—and why.

Firmly she told herself that she was worrying unnecessarily about Jake. He’d been good to her. Her face softened with admiration for the sophisticated man who could lift the camp-fire conversation with his wit and humour one night and disappear into hostile territory the next, armed with only a notebook and a change of underwear. A real toughie beneath that deceptive, sensitive-poet appearance.

‘He’s rather...deliciousty dissolute-looking, Amber!’ one of her old university friends had gleefully said during the wedding reception—and there had been regret in her friend’s tone that Jake hadn’t come her way first.

But Amber knew that for the last ten years Jake had been busy roaming around the world, actively seeking out news stories, and he didn’t have time for meaningful relationships or emotional commitment.

And she’d married him. Did that make her wise or foolish?

‘You are...happy?’ Leo queried gently. ‘Once or twice today you’ve seemed rather brittle.’

She threw back her head and laughed. To her ears there was a slight tinge of hysteria about it so she toned it down. ‘This is my wedding day!’ she chided gently. ‘And only two weeks ago Jake and I were in Africa. It was tough in the camp. I’m adjusting to being home—and being a married woman!’

‘It’s been a bit of a rush job.’ Leo chuckled. ‘If people didn’t know you better, they’d have been checking your waistline!’

‘Good grief!’ she squawked, fiercely quelling her overwhelming desire to press her hand to her stomach. Her child lay there. And it wasn’t Jake’s. A faint sensation of nausea rose to her throat. ‘My reputation as a vestal virgin would be shot to pieces, wouldn’t it?’ she managed to joke.

Trembling, she rested her shaking hands on the back of a heavily carved chair, longing to sink into it. And with the truth making her stomach knot she hastily changed the subject before her conscience made her confess.

‘Now, Leo! About this Caribbean plantation—’

‘Yes—not only am I going to live there with Ginny, but we’re getting married again!’ he said happily.

Amber grasped his hand in delight. He’d been like a bear with a sore head after his divorce from Ginny. ‘Wonderful! I’m glad for you. But...’

Her face fell as she thought of Leo’s father. Stuart, Viscount Brandon was also her own dearly loved godfather and, since her parents were dead, he had given her the wedding as his present to her.

‘How can you leave?’ she continued reproachfully. ‘You run the estate. You know every contour, every blade of grass, every outcrop of granite. The land, the village, the castle...they’re life and breath to you, just as they are to me. You stand to inherit Castlestowe. I love it with all my heart—and I’m only a gillie’s daughter,’ she said, proud that her family had been servants to the Brandons for generations. ‘I swear I’d never leave it—’

‘But I love Ginny more,’ he told her softly.

The plain statement brought her up with a jolt. It was so sweetly said, so deeply meant. Why she should feel envious she didn’t know. After her recent disastrous affair with Enzo, she’d decided that entrusting her heart to a man was too great a risk. A loveless marriage was far more sensible. It suited her and it suited Jake...

Jake! Every time she blinked she seemed to be thinking about him! They were supposed to operate independently, not go around tied up together in thought, word and deed!

Amber carefully avoided looking at the black-clad figure in the centre of the room and gazed ardently around the great baronial hall of the fairy-tale castle. The room blazed richly with the warm golden light of hundreds of giant candles carefully set in the massive chandeliers. Ancient, age-tattered banners flew from the medieval niches, proudly representing long-forgotten battles fought by the Brandon family, and the hall was filled with lively music and the swirl of kilts as guests flung themselves wholeheartedly into a vigorous reel.

Gillies, tenants, farmers, tradespeople, journalists, Members of Parliament, the cream of Scottish society... All thronged the huge, beamed hall, filling it with chatter, laughter and movement.

It made her heart ache to be here. She loved Castlestowe. Loved the way it sat, solid and confident, on the windswept crag, its turrets and drawbridge quite magical, amidst acres of feudal moorland, sky that went on for ever and white virgin beaches. Nothing in this world could touch it!

She smiled at the extent of her own fervour. ‘Ginny’s always hated it here. She really is picky!’

Leo laughed at her impassioned face and surprised her with a warm hug. ‘Sweetheart,’ he said, ‘to Ginny this place is cold, wet and unwelcoming..I love Ginny. I want her to be happy, as Jake wants you to be happy. He’s agreed to make his base here because he loves you, hasn’t he? Same difference.’

Jake hadn’t agreed—that was the trouble. He’d said he’d see how he felt about living in Scotland and she’d silently vowed to make him love it.

‘Nothing could tear me away from Castlestowe,’ she said determinedly. ‘Nothing!’

Still enclosed in Leo’s arms, Amber felt the hairs on her neck rise. Jerking her head around to look at the hall below, she saw Jake’s face lifted to them and met the full force of his eyes. She felt herself freeze. He looked...angry.

Her entire body tensed with an irrational fear. Her chest tightened so disturbingly that she had to draw in a series of quick little breaths to ease her straining lungs as she remained within the circle of Leo’s arms and Jake slowly turned his dark eyes to Leo.

‘Hell! That’s a look and a half!’ muttered Leo in awe.

‘Oh, he’s a pussy-cat really!’ she declared unconvincingly, flapping her hand in a cheerful wave to Jake, to cover up her unnerving sense of foreboding.

‘I think his claws are out.’ Leo pushed her back a little. ‘Your husband’s jealous. I think you’d better make it clear what our relationship is!’

‘Jealous?’ Amber went very still, her eyes slanting again to where Jake stood. And then she understood. It was a necessary part of the act, she supposed, to be annoyed at seeing your bride in another man’s arms. ‘But of course he is!’ she said lightly, playing along with the pretence. ‘So he should be.’

No one could know how safe Jake’s real lack of interest had made her feel. Free from any complicated emotions towards him, she’d been able to relax with him. Thankfully, she and Jake wanted the same thing: to remain good friends and stay mercifully immune from the dangers of love.

Love was frightening. It tore out your heart and threw it at someone’s feet where it lay pumping out your life’s blood. It left you open to having that raw heart trampled on without regard to your dignity or pride. Love was like standing on a greasy pole with a tiger pit below.

Thankfully her brief, destructive affair was over. Her marriage to Jake would ensure that she never experienced such misery again.

She smiled at Jake in a sudden rush of gratitude. He lifted a disapproving eyebrow in Leo’s direction then beckoned her with an authoritative finger to come down to the hall.

Smiling, she lifted her hand and, splaying out her fingers, mouthed, ‘Five minutes!’

Jake frowned and turned away. His heavy lids were lowered, his lashes making shadowed smudges on his sabre-cut cheekbones. She watched as his head bent and he murmured something urgently to the women around him, his mouth taking on a ravishingly wicked curl as he did so.

‘You can’t take your eyes off him, can you?’ chuckled Leo.

‘Yes! Oh, OK, no! He’s...very compelling!’ she answered reluctantly. And felt worried that it seemed to be true. Why was that? she wondered, feeling a sensation as if a hundred butterflies were dancing on her skin. Butterflies with hot feet; her body tingled with warmth and she fanned her face with her hand. ‘Heavens, isn’t it hot?’

‘Not particularly,’ said Leo. ‘But I know the feeling.’

She hardly heard. Her eyes were glued to Jake as he strode purposefully across the dance floor towards the door that led to the servants’ quarters.

Leo touched her arm gently. ‘Amber, you understand why I’m leaving, don’t you? I can’t leave Ginny in her hour of need. Places and possessions are nothing to me. Only Ginny. You’d give up everything for Jake, wouldn’t you?’

She managed a wan smile. ‘Are you kidding?’

But she wouldn’t. To her there was only one place to live in the world. It didn’t matter to Jake where they lived. He could continue working around the world as a war correspondent while she stayed in Castlestowe, with people she’d known all her life around her.

‘I’ll have children,’ said Leo, breaking in on her thoughts. ‘One of them might love the idea of taking over Castlestowe on my behalf. Father’s reconciled to that idea. He’s looking forward to grandchildren. And...maybe you and Jake will come to visit us some time?’ He grinned mischievously. ‘Compare children, maybe?’

He knew! she thought in horror, and then saw that he was laughing at her startled expression. Somehow she again managed not to touch her stomach in a protective gesture. Somehow she stretched her lips into a smile.

‘Whoa, there! Steady! I’m only just married,’ she protested, quelling the nausea that threatened her composure.

Leo gave her a goodbye hug and slipped away. Suddenly exhausted, she sat down on a tapestry-covered chair which was tucked away out of sight of the revellers below. It was then that her hand instinctively crept to where her baby lay.

She didn’t even know how she felt about the baby. There’d been no time to register anything other than shock and then a shy joy and then... Then she’d told its father—Enzo, the handsome UN captain who had been responsible for the African enclave where she’d been working.

‘It’s all right,’ he’d told her some two months or so earlier, when protective supplies had run out. ‘I’ll be careful, I promise. I love you. I need you... Please, Amber! Please...’

She’d denied him; he’d insisted. And stupidly she’d let him persuade her because he’d swamped her in passionate, emotional blackmail, and life out there was so tough that you took your pleasure with a desperation that would be unthinkable under more normal circumstances.

Their relationship had cooled the next morning because she’d felt used. Her white teeth drove deep into her full lower lip. Love, he’d said! It had been lust, though she’d been too naive and innocent to recognise it as such. And Enzo had been annoyed when she’d hesitantly told him that she was pregnant.

‘What can I do about it? I’m married,’ he’d said with a shrug, unaware that Amber had frozen with the shock.

Then he’d gone on to say that their six-month affair had been fun, wonderful, sensual and he adored her, of course; she was the best lay he’d ever had...but nothing else.

She felt weak at the memory. The best lay. Amber drew in a shuddering breath as the humiliation hit her anew. Enzo had vanished, leaving her incapable of work. Even her team leader, Mary Smith, had been unable to console her.

Then Jake had stepped in, acting with typical thoughtfulness and sensitivity. He’d come across her huddled body in the Jeep that Enzo had used and he’d talked to her for ages. While she’d sobbed her heart out, his soothing, velvety voice had persisted, relentlessly describing some of the children waiting for a trace on their parents, making them real to her by his accurate observations—one child’s crooked smile, another’s saucy eyes, the family of four looked after by the eldest—a child of nine...

Slowly he’d brought her back to the world again. But this time she’d met it and her obligations without any love in her heart. And with a child secretly growing in her body.

Her face flamed with the shame. ‘Enzo! Oh, Enzo!’ she groaned in misery.

There was a sharp intake of breath behind her and she jerked her head around, releasing a flurry of creamy petals from the roses which secured her floating veil. Jake! she registered, ignoring the fall of velvety petals onto her breasts. And her tearful eyes widened. He was tense with anger.

‘What’s the matter?’ she asked in confusion.

‘Surely you know?’

Her heart thudded at the passion shaking his voice. He remained in the dark shadows of the stone arch which led to the stairs and speculatively examined the bright flame of her hair in a way that suggested he found her beautiful. Slowly his gaze drifted over her gleaming, satiny shoulders and she stiffened, hypnotised by his brooding expression. And she felt alarmed at the implications of the undeniably sexual inspection.

Short of breath suddenly, she inhaled, lifting her breasts where the velvet petals lay sprinkled in romantic abandon. Without realising it, she had innocently invited his disturbing gaze, because a few of the petals wafted into the deep décolleté neckline.

‘I—’

‘Mmm?’

There was a perturbing softness to his mouth, a strange yet dangerous glow in his eyes that made her catch her breath again. Her intense awareness of his sensuality was bewildering. She’d never felt like this about him before. Perhaps he’d kept it from her. Perhaps he’d deliberately waited till... Her teeth drove briefly into her lower lip, stopping her fancies, and she started again.

‘I need a moment, Jake,’ she said, strangely croaky. Her fingers twined tightly around one other as if they needed to hold onto something. ‘I’m a bit chewed up—’

‘So I heard.’ His drawl vibrated with a controlled anger. ‘I think you owe me a few explanations. Shall we start with your feelings for Enzo?’

For a moment she didn’t know what he was talking about, and then she remembered that she’d been whispering her ex-lover’s name with a deceptively suspicious sadness.

Licking her dry lips, she said defensively, ‘I’m not upset because of... him—’

‘No? It sounded as if you were. You have to forget him. He’s not worth your time,’ Jake retorted testily.

Embarrassment washed over her like a hot wave. ‘I am trying to forget it all. I was just going over the past... regretting my mistakes, if you must know. I need—’

‘I know what you need. A shoulder, a protector, a father to your child.’

The liquid of his voice disturbed her. Amber nodded, gaining time to steady herself. ‘Yes, I married you because I needed a husband,’ she admitted. ‘Don’t think I’m regretting our marriage—’

‘You said it was a feudal community.’ Jake’s dark eyes studied her carefully. ‘Puritanical. That you’d never be able to live here as the mother of an illegitimate child—’

‘That wasn’t the only reason I agreed to marry you.’

‘Oh?’ he enquired softly. ‘Something else, then?’

She’d been about to mention their friendship, the close bond she thought they could have. But something faintly suggestive in his tone prevented her. She stuck to the facts instead.

‘We both want the convenience of a marriage without love, don’t we?’ she asked, a little unevenly.

To be honest, it wasn’t really what she’d expected. Once, she’d believed that marriage stood for love and commitment. But circumstances meant that she’d had to make a choice under pressure.

There had been cholera in the camp. The doctor there who’d examined her and confirmed her pregnancy had insisted that she return home at once. She’d known that it would only be a little while before everyone in Castlestowe knew of her shame, and that she might have to leave her beloved home. She couldn’t have borne that. So Jake had offered her a solution.

‘No love, no ties. What more could a confirmed bachelor desire?’ he drawled now, his dark lashes veiling his eyes. Amber wondered what he was hiding. Nervously, she fiddled with her neckline. Jake cleared his throat and continued.

‘I’ve always said that a wife and children would be millstones around the neck of a war correspondent like me,’ he murmured. ‘A man would be a fool to walk into a danger zone and risk snipers’ bullets if he had a woman and child he loved at home.’

‘Whereas I won’t make any difference to the way you feel, will I? And don’t worry, I know that your nomadic existence has made you more independent than most and you balk at restrictions and routine. I won’t tie you down.’

‘I’m relieved.’ Jake gave her a crooked smile. ‘If I’m to have a wife, I’d prefer to be her friend. Friends give one another space. I know you want very little from me, and that suits me fine. I can’t stand women who cling. Our arrangement is ideal.’

‘Because you don’t need to pretend you love me.’

His mouth took on a wry twist. ‘I don’t need to pretend that, no,’ he said huskily.

Amber wondered what had happened to make Jake so detached. He’d hinted of a broken heart—one that would never mend. It explained why he always kept a part of himself back. Hopefully, he’d learn to trust her in time and share some of his past with her. As to the future...

Suddenly she thought of him lying dead somewhere abroad and she went pale. ‘You’ll still risk your life, I suppose,’ she said quietly.

‘It’s my job. My job is my life. I feel a passionate need to tell the world what is happening out there, to report the truth and help to prevent injustice.’ He gave a short laugh and met her eyes again. ‘I’m very hot on injustice, Amber.’

She smiled. ‘I admire that,’ she said earnestly. ‘It colours everything you do. Your parents must be very proud of you.’

‘Less proud of my professional achievements than they are to hear I’m married at last,’ he said ruefully.

She laughed with him. His parents had been obsessed with his bachelor state. Occasionally, after ringing their home in Kenya, he’d met her in the camp mess tent and exasperatedly confided that all they could ask was whether he’d found a nice girl yet.

‘The heat would have been off you if you’d had brothers or sisters,’ she said sympathetically.

He shrugged, a hard line to his mouth. ‘It’s off now.’

‘I’m sorry your parents couldn’t come.’

‘Only malaria could have kept Father away,’ Jake said wryly. ‘Prepare yourself for when we tell them you’re pregnant. My mother will start knitting... and Father will see some purpose to his life again.’ His expression became very serious. ‘Amber, I love them both. They’ve had a rough time. A lot of troubles which I’ll tell you about one day. I’d like them to be happy.’

Amber could see that his affection was genuine. It was something she could relate to. A man who loved his parents and cared so much for their welfare would make a good husband.

A sudden, sharp heat invaded her stomach. Dismayed, she closed her eyes tightly, willing herself not to be sick, here, in front of Jake. On her wedding day! The ghastliness of the situation made her wince.

‘You’re ill?’ He didn’t seem to miss anything. ‘You look very pale.’

She heard him move and felt him come close, knowing that he must have knelt and was inches from her by the sudden pressure of his cool fingers pressing lightly on her temples. Her lids flew open and she met his black-molasses gaze in consternation because he was far too near for comfort.

‘Please don’t touch me! I’ll be OK!’ she lied. ‘Leave me alone for a while!’ she begged, her voice rising a betraying octave.

‘I can hardly abandon you when you look so sick. What’s wrong?’ he asked with a frown, beginning to brush the petals from her bare shoulders.

She stiffened. The light touch of his fingers was strange, almost in the form of a warm caress. ‘Don’t!’ she repeated sharply. The sickness surged up again and she swallowed hastily before saying, ‘Nothing’s wrong. I—’

‘Don’t lie. There is a problem. Tell me,’ he ordered.

‘All right!’ Denying her nausea in the hope that mind could conquer matter, she put aside the fear that Jake wasn’t as indifferent as she’d first imagined and concentrated on her misery at losing Leo. ‘I feel depressed because Leo’s left Castlestowe,’ she mumbled, and he gave a quick intake of breath.

‘Ah.’ He looked annoyed again. ‘We come to Leo.’

Sadly she gazed at Jake’s grim face. ‘He and Ginny are getting married again,’ she explained. ‘They’re going to live in St Lucia!’

With great deliberation, Jake unfolded his long limbs and stood up. ‘Just as well,’ he observed with crisp finality.

‘How can you say that?’ Amber objected, craning her neck upwards. ‘Stuart will be devastated! Leo will be living miles and miles away from his father—’

‘It’s only a nine-hour flight,’ Jake pointed out drily. ‘Besides, you told me they’ve never been close. In fact, I’d say that Stuart Brandon loves you more than he loves his son. Don’t look so shocked! It’s true.’

‘Well, Leo was brought up by nannies and sent to boarding-school,’ she said quickly.

‘Mmm.’ Jake paused and considered her thoughtfully, as if that wasn’t the whole explanation. ‘Whereas you, a godchild, have been loved by Stuart and treated like an honorary daughter ever since you were born. Look at this wedding reception he’s provided for you!’

‘He’s been very good to me,’ she admitted.

‘Surprisingly so.’

‘You don’t understand.’ Amber watched him fold his arms in a disturbingly challenging way. ‘The Brandons treat the people who work for them like family. My father grew up with Stuart. They had a mutual respect for one another. And, as you know, Stuart took a shine to me when I was little.’

‘There’s no denying that. You and Castlestowe are the great loves of Stuart’s life,’ said Jake shrewdly. ‘I’m sure he won’t miss Leo too much—nor will he mind running the estate. I think he’ll enjoy striding over the moors in tweeds and brogues. He’ll prefer that to living in London as a Member of Parliament and wearing city suits and breathing city air. He doesn’t strike me as the sort to enjoy Westminster life.’

‘Maybe you’re right,’ Amber conceded, knowing that her godfather hated London and only stayed to press Scotland’s causes. ‘I’m worried about Leo’s grandfather, though. He won’t be pleased at all.’

She saw Jake’s nod of acknowledgement. They’d visited the bedridden Earl a few times, in his suite at the castle.

‘He’s coped with tragedy before. Odd that he thought you resembled his late wife,’ Jake mused idly.

It was true. The portrait in the old earl’s bedroom bore a remarkable likeness to her: a tall, stately woman with fiery hair and a broad, earthy face. But she was Amber Fraser, the daughter of Angus Fraser, a gillie at Castlestowe like all his ancestors before him. And the Brandons were bred-in-the-bone aristocrats.

‘We’re the same Scottish type,’ she said, dismissing the matter. ‘Well, when the old Earl dies, Stuart will be the next Earl of Castlestowe—and after him Leo will inherit the title. He should stay.’ Her face fell. Without Leo’s friendship, she’d be lost.

Jake frowned. ‘He means a lot to you, doesn’t he?’

‘Yes!’ she replied, her eyes soft with tears.

He began to stride up and down the gallery as if he felt confined, then came to a brief halt in front of her. ‘Now he’s gone, at least I won’t have to worry about leaving you here in the cottage while I go on assignments.’

Amber felt offended at what he was implying. With as much dignity as she could muster, she straightened and rose slowly, graceful in the long, rustling crushed taffeta dress despite her Junoesque stature. With her flame-coloured hair floating around her flawless shoulders and her eyes blazing, she gave the impression of a woman on the warpath. Which she might be, if Jake pursued that line of thinking.

‘Leo and I have been together since childhood. He’s like a brother to me, nothing else! I don’t understand why you’re going on about it.’

‘Because,’ answered Jake tightly, ‘people have been questioning what was going on between you two up here—’

‘On my wedding day?’ she broke in, shocked.

‘You both seemed unusually wrapped up in each other,’ he retorted. ‘My journalist friends thought your behaviour was inappropriate. I have to say I agree with them.’

Amber went scarlet. She’d recognised the journalists, who’d been based in the African camp. They would have known about her passionate relationship with Enzo. Everybody did, because Enzo had made no secret of it. Presumably Leo’s friends now thought that she made a habit of flinging herself at men.

‘I see!’ she muttered bitterly. Would her one mistake brand her for ever? ‘I can’t even hug a friend now! It’s people’s dirty minds, not my behaviour that you have to condemn!’

‘I had to come up and take steps to scotch the rumours. I don’t want any more gossip, Amber,’ he said, his voice so softly laced with anger that it slid into her like a knife. ‘We agreed that not only would you remain faithful to our marriage vows, but you’d be seen to be above suspicion. Keep to that agreement, Amber, or I’ll wash my hands of you!’

She looked at him in dismay. The man she’d known—the caring man who’d brought her out of her nightmare and whom she’d witnessed carrying out so many acts of kindness—had vanished. Was this the real Jake? A suspicious, possessive man who expected her to be grateful to him because he’d given her baby the gift of legitimacy?

Desperately she clung to the memory of how he’d cheered up a group of women in a cellar in Sarajevo with an impromptu party. He’d played the piano, beautifully, meltingly, making them all cry. And then he’d danced with every one of them, while Amber had laughingly picked out one-finger tunes.

She made herself remember the time when he’d waded in, fists flying, to a group of men taking a sack of grain from a helpless woman. But that didn’t help. It only reminded her that he had one hell of a temper when roused.

‘What’s happened to you?’ she asked unhappily. ‘We’ve got on so well together up to now. I thought we could be good friends!’ Suddenly she realised just how important that promise of friendship had been to her. Without it, the marriage would be impossible. ‘Jake,’ she went on in a soft, shaky plea, ‘don’t change! Please don’t start acting like a jealous lover—’

His head snapped up sharply, making the black curls dance. ‘What the hell are you talking about?’ he demanded. ‘Of course I’m not jealous! But the last thing in the world I want is scurrilous gossip about my wife and Leo Brandon.’

His firm hand caught her chin and tipped her head up. A tongue of flame seemed to leap inside her. Sickness? No... Something different. Then what?

In case something in her eyes betrayed her confusion, she lowered her lashes resentfully. Jake’s warm breath caused the remaining petals on her breast to lift and flutter over her pillowy curves.

And, alarmingly, a small ache centred itself in her loins as if her body briefly retained the memory of what it was like to be close to a man and desire him. Appalled, she repressed that feeling and leaned against the side of the gallery for support.

‘I’m not promiscuous! You’ll have no cause to worry about the future,’ she said, her tone pleading with him to believe her. ‘I behaved out of character with Enzo. I was emotionally vulnerable at the time. You know what it was like out there.’

‘Heartbreaking,’ he said flatly.

‘Oh, yes!’ Men had wept along with the women. ‘In all the years I worked for Unite, that last assignment in Africa was the most painful. I’ve never known so many children to be separated from their parents. It drained me physically and emotionally. She bit her lip. ‘Because my mother had died shortly before I went out, I was in need of comfort and affection too. But that’s all in the past. I’m not likely to behave like that again.’

‘Is that so? Perhaps it’s in your nature to be emotionally impulsive. You’re something of an enigma.’ He studied her doubtfully. ‘Sometimes you seem very innocent. Other times...’

She gulped at the sexual implication. And her skin crawled with fear as she felt herself respond to his powerful masculinity. ‘Don’t condemn me,’ she husked.

‘I don’t. Nature is nature. You can’t hide your needs. Most of the time you shut them away, but one day they’ll surface. You’re uninhibited—’

‘I’m...what?’

‘Forget it,’ he said shortly. ‘I’m sorry I mentioned it.’

A coldness settled around her heart. He’d heard something. ‘Tell me what you mean!’ she demanded hoarsely.

There was a long pause, then, ‘All right. Perhaps then you’ll understand my reservations about you,’ he said grudgingly. ‘At the camp you had quite a reputation: a demure woman with passionate depths. Enzo boasted about you—’

‘Oh, no!’ she groaned.

‘I always walked away when he started talking about you. But once, when I was travelling in a van beside him, in convoy, with hostile gunmen all around, it was difficult to escape his reminiscences. I’m sorry,’ he said shortly, seeing her distress. ‘You did ask.’

Hidden from view in the shadowed corner of the gallery, she covered her face with her hands as her stomach rebelled and she fought valiantly to keep her dignity and not throw up. She was shaking like a leaf, appalled that everyone in the camp had been fed stories about the quality of her performance in bed.

‘Oh-h-h! I feel awful! Go away! Leave me alone!’ she muttered, feeling weak.

‘I can’t. We have a charade to play first.’

‘A charade?’ she echoed morosely.

‘I hurried up here, leaving in mid-conversation,’ he said grimly. ‘They could all see why. I’d been glaring at you and Leo for several minutes, hoping you’d get the message. As far as anyone else is concerned, we’ve had a talk and you’ve explained that there’s nothing between you and Leo. And you’re going to show you’re sorry to have worried me by flinging yourself into my arms and kissing me.’

She froze. Took one look at his sensual mouth and backed away to the shadowy rear of the gallery till her spine hit one of its supporting posts.

‘We—we don’t have to kiss.’ She swallowed as an irrational fear clutched at her vocal cords. ‘Why don’t we just go down into the hall, walk about arm in arm and smile into each other’s eyes?’ she suggested hopefully.

His lifted eyebrow mocked her cowardice. ‘It wouldn’t be enough. It needs to be something passionate and definitive.’

‘P-passionate?’ She stumbled over the word.

‘Come here where you can be seen. And make it look good,’ he insisted sternly. ‘It’s important.’

Fighting the nausea, she tried to fix a smile on her face. ‘Won’t something like that do?’

His eyes flickered with annoyance. ‘If you’re not going to take this matter seriously...’

Her mouth drooped. ‘Oh, it’s serious. That’s why I’m finding it so hard to look carefree. And besides, I hate deception!’ she muttered rebelliously.

‘So do I. But sometimes it’s necessary,’ Jake told her curtly. ‘My body will shield you from view. They’ll see what we’re doing from the angle of my back.’

She hesitated.

‘Do it!’ he ordered.

Too weary, too sick to protest any longer, she stepped forward a pace or two.

‘Wind your arms around my neck, Amber.’

She obeyed and laid her hands on the smooth nape of his neck. Springy black curls did their best to snake around her fingers and she concentrated on them as she stood on tiptoe and he wrapped his arms around her. Her eyes closed tightly.

His cool mouth met hers for what seemed like an eternity. And all she could feel was the nausea, pushing up from her stomach to her throat, threatening her dignity and her pride. So she moaned and tried to draw away, but Jake ruthlessly cupped the back of her head with his palm and drove her mouth deeper into his.

‘Stay with it,’ he muttered harshly against her lips. ‘In my book, passion is supposed to last longer than twenty seconds.’

The kiss went on and on. She held herself tense and unresponsive, willing the nightmare to end. Dimly she became aware of Jake’s hard mouth softening, coaxing her lips more sweetly. And for a dreadful, heart-stopping moment she felt herself responding. Terrified, she pushed at his hard chest and met a wall of steel, which budged not an inch.

It wasn’t a pretend kiss-and-make-up kiss any longer. It had become something else. It was obvious that Jake’s natural sexuality had begun to assert itself. She could feel the melting together of their bodies, the increase of his heartbeat against her crushed breast and the answering clamour of her own pulse.

His hands moved soothingly over her half-naked back and she gave an involuntary shudder of pleasure. Almost instantly, a new and predatory hunger overtook him and his mouth and body drove more confidently into hers.

A spasm of dark despair shot through her. She’d married Jake because he’d said that he’d never touch her. Because of her child, because of the black melancholy she’d felt after her affair and the deep, deep humiliation, she had wanted to stay in limbo, celibate for the rest of her life.

But the unthinkable had happened. Jake wasn’t as indifferent as he had pretended.

Oh, God! she thought helplessly, petrified with horror. Jake had lied to her! He did intend passion to play a part in their relationship—and she was in danger of becoming aroused by him. That was the very last thing on earth that she wanted!