The Token Wife

by Sara Craven

  He moved gently inside her, controlling the power of his body to create a series of small, intense sensations, each one more concentrated and engrossing than the last, drawing her inexorably on.

  At the same time he slid a hand down to the joining of their bodies, seeking her tiny hidden bud, brushing its tumescent heat with the tips of his fingers. Coaxing, enticing her to pleasure. Making her moan faintly, pleadingly.

  Within a heartbeat, the rhythm of his body changed, became more forceful—more urgent. Taking her to some edge, holding her there for an endless moment, then releasing her into the dazzle and shimmer of a new, unguessed-at sphere of trembling, sobbing delight.

  Afterwards, she lay, her face pressed into the damp wall of his chest, as she tried to recover her fragmented breathing.

  When she could think, she said in a small, drowned voice, ‘But you—you didn’t…’

  His lips touched her hair. ‘I can wait.’ There was a smile in his voice. ‘For you.’

  She raised her head, staring at him with eyes made drowsy from pleasure. ‘You mean—again?’

  ‘I hope so,’ he said. ‘Unless you have some objection.’

  ‘Oh, no,’ she said with a slight catch of the breath. ‘None at all.’

  He drew her close again, with a sigh. ‘All the time we’ve wasted,’ he said. ‘All those endless days and nights when I didn’t dare come near you in case you fought me off. I used to pray that you’d give some sign that you wanted me, too. Only you never did.’ He shook his head. ‘Even last night I was scared you might turn away from me. That you might still be hung up on that idiot you were engaged to, after all.’

  She pressed her lips to his shoulder. ‘You don’t have to be unkind about him,’ she murmured. ‘I told you that David and I were never lovers.’

  ‘I know.’ His arm tightened around her. ‘But I couldn’t believe that he’d let you get away from him when I wanted you so badly. And when I saw him leaving the flat that day, I just lost it completely,’ he added ruefully. ‘Enforced celibacy clearly doesn’t suit me.’

  She was quiet for a moment. Then she said haltingly, ‘But you haven’t been—celibate, Alex. There’s always been—Lucinda Crosby. I—I saw you together at that hotel. I told you so. And you didn’t deny it,’ she added with difficulty.

  ‘I wasn’t in the mood to confirm or deny anything,’ he said with sudden harshness. ‘Although I admit I should have dealt with it there and then. But I’d seen that bastard leaving, and you were there half-naked, just out of the shower. All I could think was that you’d been washing him off you, and it was driving me crazy.’

  He paused. ‘But if you want to talk about Cindy Crosby, we can do so now. Yes, I was seeing her at one time, and I’m not particularly proud of that. But it was over long before I met you, and I’ve never been even marginally tempted to resume the relationship. We’re history.’

  ‘But you were with her…’

  ‘Briefly, yes,’ he agreed. ‘Because I was set up.’

  ‘Set up?’

  ‘Listen,’ Alex said. ‘I’d been approached by a guy I knew slightly who was looking for venture capital, but didn’t want it generally known. He suggested lunch at the Belmayne because it was quiet and out of the way. I wasn’t thrilled at the idea, because this weekend was coming up and I wanted to clear my desk, but I agreed to meet him for a drink.

  ‘From the moment I got there, it was clear something was wrong. He was on edge, and unwilling to come to terms about his requirements, even though I’d made it plain I had no time to waste. I was just about to finish my drink and leave, when he said he had to make a phone call, and asked me to wait for him.’

  He sighed harshly. ‘Needless to say, he didn’t come back. Instead, I was joined by Cindy, all smiles, with a table reserved in the restaurant, and a room booked on the first floor.

  ‘I told her flatly that I wasn’t interested, and that I was leaving. But she became insistent. Followed me outside. She said we’d been discreet long enough, and she wanted me back. That as long as we continued to be careful, Peter would never find out.

  ‘I pointed out that Peter was only part of the equation. That she’d apparently overlooked the fact that I was also married now.’ His voice hardened. ‘She seemed to find that amusing. Told me that no one, least of all myself, could take my “ridiculous marriage” seriously.

  ‘And that was when I walked away. In all, I was out of the bank for less than an hour, which my staff can confirm because I called back there briefly before I came home. I wanted to instruct them to take no more calls from Cindy’s catspaw.’

  She said with difficulty, ‘Were you—in love with her?’

  His mouth twisted. ‘No, I haven’t even that excuse. Our relationship was sexual—nothing more. A passing thing.’

  He smoothed her hair back from her face with a gentle hand. ‘Louise, I wasn’t expecting to see her at the Belmayne. I didn’t want to see her, and if you check with the barman and commissionaire at the hotel they’ll tell you that our reunion was brief and unfriendly.

  ‘But I know—none better—how easy it is to be deceived by circumstantial evidence.’ He paused. ‘Although I should warn you if Sanders ever comes prowling round you again, I plan to break his neck.’

  She said, ‘I think David came looking for comfort—needing to be told that everything would be all right. But he was disappointed. And he certainly won’t be back.’

  Alex bent his head and kissed her, slowly and deeply. Her response was instant and hungry, her body shivering against his. She began to touch him, her fingers exploring his bone structure and caressing his skin, trailing downwards without haste. And where her hands touched, fondled, her mouth followed, delicate at first, then moving voluptuously, all inhibitions flown.

  Enjoying him in ways she had never dreamed she could. Finding, to her astonishment, that she could make him groan with need—with pleasure—in turn.

  He moved suddenly, turning onto his back, his hands clasping her waist, lifting her over him, then lowering her gently onto the hard, sleek power of him.

  Louise took him into her, gasping a little as he filled her, making her complete. Then she began to move on him strongly and fiercely, creating her own rhythms, her own suddenly fevered demands. He was the instrument of her pleasure, and she was his. Nothing else existed. All laughter had fled. There was no place even for words in this mutual agony of need they had created.

  Louise flung her head back, arching her spine as Alex caressed her breasts, her nipples becoming pinnacles of pure sensation under the play of his fingers.

  She reached culmination almost before she was aware, her voice moaning thickly at the sheer intensity of the spasms tearing through her, and heard him cry out in turn, his voice driven and anguished.

  She felt herself falling, tumbling into some void, and found his arms closing round her, to hold her and keep her safe. And lying entwined with him, exhausted, she found peace, and even a kind of oblivion.

  When at last Louise opened her eyes it was full daylight, and the bed beside her was empty.

  She sat up slowly, fighting a ridiculous sense of disappointment, and pushed back her dishevelled hair, realising, as she did so, that she was still wearing the ruby choker from the night before. Blushing a little at the memories it evoked, she undid the clasp and put the necklace back in its velvet case on the night table.

  She lay back against her pillows, stretching luxuriously, her body glowing, then tensed suddenly as there was a light tap on the door, which opened to admit Mrs Gillow, carrying a tray, which she set down on a table in front of the chaise longue.

  ‘Good morning, madam,’ she said comfortably, ignoring Louise’s hasty dive under the covers. She drew back the curtains, flooding the room with sunlight. ‘It’s another beautiful day. Mr Alex is having breakfast with her ladyship, and asked me to bring this up for you.’

  ‘This’, Louise saw, was orange juice, a soft boiled egg, toast and tea, plus a single red rose i
n a small crystal vase.

  ‘Oh,’ she said, burrowing further into the bed. ‘Well—thank you.’ Mrs Gillow took pity on her, and fetched her robe, laying it tenderly across the foot of the bed. ‘Will there be anything else, madam?’

  ‘No.’ Louise pinkened under the housekeeper’s indulgent gaze. ‘That’s—fine.’

  When she was alone, she put on the robe and trod across to the table. There was a note, she saw, propped against the vase.

  ‘You were sleeping so peacefully, I didn’t have the heart to wake you,’ she read. ‘But I thought your energy levels might need restoring.’ And it was signed with the single initial ‘A.’

  The orange juice was freshly squeezed, the egg perfect, and the toast cut into neat soldiers. And she was hungry, she discovered. In fact, she was ravenous.

  All the same, she wished they could have had breakfast together—on the first day of the rest of their lives. If, indeed, that was what it was. Or was she taking altogether too much for granted on the strength of one night in Alex’s bed?

  He’d spoken frankly about wanting her, and there was no doubt that her resolve to keep him at arm’s length had simply increased his determination to possess her. And her own passionate, hidden desire for him had inevitably caused her resolution to crumble, just when she needed it most.

  Well, now he’d had her, and there was no turning back. She belonged to him, helplessly and eternally, and the storm of her eventual capitulation had undoubtedly intrigued him. For a while, she could even prove a novelty for him—this token wife who’d given herself to him with such ardent lack of reserve.

  But would it ever be more than that? Because she still had no idea how he viewed the future. Or what part she was expected to play in it. If any…

  After all, he’d achieved his ambition, she reminded herself bleakly. Rosshampton was going to be his. She’d fulfilled the role he’d demanded, and, technically, her services were no longer required, and there was no need for the marriage to continue any longer.

  Maybe the incredible pleasure he’d given her was simply a bonus, in addition to the money she’d been promised.

  She winced and rose to her feet. Whatever the outcome, she told herself, it was clear they needed to talk—and soon.

  She bathed and dressed in a cream linen skirt, and a sleeveless blue silky top, brushing her hair loose on her shoulders, and disguising the faintly swollen contours of her mouth with a neutral-coloured lustre.

  She looked different, she thought, studying herself critically. Apart from the tell-tale shadows of fatigue, there was a new knowledge in her eyes. And a new vulnerability too.

  As she walked along the gallery towards the top of the stairs, she saw Della Maidstone coming towards her, carrying a suitcase.

  She checked in surprise. ‘Leaving already?’

  The other girl shrugged. ‘Well, there’s nothing to stay for. Cliff’s taken yet another gamble that hasn’t paid off. I did warn him that the old girl wasn’t a soft touch, and that she wouldn’t fall for his big talk, even if she was once sweet on his grandfather. But he wouldn’t listen. He cleared out earlier in a hell of a temper.’

  ‘I see.’ Louise bit her lip. ‘I suppose you’ll both be returning to South Africa?’

  ‘I certainly am, though I can’t speak for Cliff. He owes too much money to the wrong people.’ She looked Louise over, brows raised. ‘You look as if you haven’t slept all night,’ she commented, a jeering note in her voice. ‘Something tells me your husband’s been celebrating his victory. If he’s in a good mood, maybe Cliffy should try touching him for a loan—to make up for losing the house.’

  ‘Are you very disappointed?’ Louise asked awkwardly, aware that she was blushing. ‘It is incredibly beautiful.’

  ‘Sure, if you like this kind of thing,’ Della said with total indifference. ‘Not that we’d ever have lived here ourselves,’ she added. ‘Cliff knows a guy who’s looking for somewhere to turn into a high-class health spa, and he’d have paid us top dollar for the place. Another little scheme that hasn’t worked.’

  She paused. ‘And talking of schemes, I wish you luck with the baby. Cliff was mad as hell when I wouldn’t oblige, but maybe you don’t mind ruining your figure.’

  Louise stared at her. ‘The baby?’ she repeated slowly. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Oh, didn’t your husband tell you?’ Brief malice flared in the other girl’s face. ‘I can’t say I’m surprised. That was one of the conditions that the old lady imposed. Apparently she wants to hear the patter of tiny feet before she dies.’

  She gave a strident giggle. ‘She told Cliff straight, and he tried to talk me into it. But I wasn’t having any. No house is worth all that.’ She shook her head. ‘My God, but men can be ruthless when they want something, particularly the men in this family. I’m well out of it.’

  She patted a stunned and silent Louise on the shoulder. ‘So now you have to come up with the goods instead. I don’t envy you the brat,’ she added, winking. ‘But I guess you’ll have fun trying. And at least it’ll be brought up in the lap of luxury. So things could be worse.’

  She went down the stairs, tugging the case after her.

  Louise stood rigidly at the top of the stairs, her hand clasping the banister rail so tightly that her knuckles turned white. She felt numb, paralysed with shock and hurt.

  Ruthless, she thought painfully, was not the word. How long would it have been before Alex told her the real motive behind his practised seduction—if ever?

  She’d wondered why he hadn’t told her he loved her. Well, now she knew, and it hurt so much that she was falling apart, breaking in pieces.

  She supposed he deserved credit for not having pretended to care. He’d practised a kind of honesty in that. But the fact remained that in one night she’d gone, without warning, from being a token wife to a convenient womb.

  Was he really so obsessed with the place that there was no room in his life, his heart for anything else? she asked herself in anguish. It seemed so.

  And that was the worst thing of all. That he was prepared for her to be just another sacrifice on the Rosshampton altar. And one that meant no more to him than Cindy Crosby had done.

  For a moment she knew a flash of sympathy for the other woman, who’d found herself discarded in the cause of expediency.

  She must have been desperate to pursue Alex like that, she thought. To want him back at any price. But I can’t do that. I can’t…

  I won’t plead for what he can’t give. And I won’t let him use me—not any more. Because I couldn’t bear it.

  I have to be the one who walks away. I have to…

  She turned and went swiftly back to the bedroom. She fetched her case, and began filling it, throwing things in at random.

  But not the red dress she’d worn last night. Or the necklace. Because she couldn’t stand to see either of them again—and remember what a fool she’d been.

  When the door opened behind her she tensed, instinct telling her instantly who it was, even before his hands descended on her shoulders, and his mouth grazed the side of her neck.

  She stood like a statue, fighting the involuntary quiver of her senses at his touch.

  ‘Hi,’ he whispered, turning her to face him. ‘I’ve missed you.’ He dropped a light kiss on her unresponsive lips, then looked at the half-filled case.

  ‘Packing already?’ He sounded surprised. ‘Gran wants us to stay for lunch, if not for another night. I think she needs to talk about the house.’ He gave a faint smile. ‘Convince herself that she’s made the right decision.’

  ‘Well, I’m sure you can reassure her about that,’ Louise said tightly. ‘If not on all points. You’d have to wait a month or two for that.’

  His brows lifted. ‘Is this a coded message?’

  ‘Oh, please don’t pretend.’ She stepped back from him, freeing herself quite deliberately. ‘Not any more. You see, it just occurred to me that we had unprotected sex last
night.’

  ‘Did we?’ He was frowning suddenly. ‘I thought we made love.’

  ‘And don’t play word games either,’ she said raggedly. ‘It amounts to the same thing.’

  ‘No,’ Alex said, ‘it doesn’t, but let it pass. Is there some problem?’

  ‘Only that I could be—pregnant.’

  He was very still, watching her with narrowed eyes. ‘Yes,’ he said, after a pause. ‘I suppose it’s a possibility. But would that really be so terrible?’ His mouth twisted. ‘After all, we’re married, or had you forgotten?’

  ‘All the same,’ Louise said, trying to keep her voice steady. ‘I’m wondering why you didn’t take—precautions.’

  ‘Because I had none to take.’ He sounded impatient. ‘I don’t keep a permanent supply of condoms in my wallet in case I meet a willing lady.’ He gave her a level look. ‘And you’ve never been that, anyway, Louise. You’ve gone out of your way to keep me at arm’s length. I had no reason to think last night would be any different.’

  He paused. ‘But what I need to know is—why this is suddenly such an issue. It didn’t trouble you when you were weeping with pleasure in my arms. So why now?’

  She shrugged defensively. ‘Because last night I wasn’t thinking clearly. You’re very good at what you do, Alex, as you’ve just obliquely pointed out. Only now it’s the cold light of day. And I’ve just realised I’ve taken an appalling risk.’

  He was silent for a long moment. Then he said carefully, ‘Are you saying you find the idea of having my child abhorrent?’

  She was assailed by a sudden unwanted vision of Alex cradling a tiny, shawl-wrapped bundle in his arms, his face rapt and tender.

  No, she thought, her heart contracting. Oh, no…

  She made herself meet his gaze. Heard her voice say coolly and clearly, ‘We had a deal. A baby was not part of it. You wanted the house. You have it, and if your grandmother has imposed additional conditions then that is your problem, not mine.’