His mouth twisted in a bleak travesty of a smile as he laid him back in his cot and gently tucked the covers about him. Then he looked up, the grimness in his eyes darkening. 'I don't think so, Jennifer.' Very slowly he turned and left her.
There were times, mostly at weekends, when she caught glimpses of him striding across the marble-smooth lawns or wandering through the rose garden with its stone fountain spouting water into a fishpond, sometimes talking with the gardener, sometimes merely enjoying the solitude of the spacious grounds, standing at the edge of the bluff with the deep blue water of Lake Ontario spread out below him, but always with Robbie firmly anchored in the crook of his arm.
Robbie was beginning to walk and talk now, and Jenna didn't know whether to be elated or chagrined when his first clear word was 'Daddy' and his first faltering steps were towards the man who had changed their lives so drastically.
Jenna watched from a distance and never intruded on these moments between father and son. The rest of the week was hers, because Royce never came home from work before midnight and was often gone at dawn. He kept his distance and she kept hers, and it worked out fairly well.
A deliriously happy Olivia was married and had been honeymooning in the Caribbean for a month when Meg returned from Italy and interrupted the quiet, pattern of Jenna's comfortably ordered life.
It was nearly noon and Jenna had just finished typing a letter when her office door burst open dramatically. Meg stood there dripping with mink. Considering the soaring mid-July temperature outside, Jenna thought she looked ludicrous, but she kept her voice even.
'Meg! How good to see you again. You're looking gorgeous!'
'And you,' Meg said bitterly, her eyes hard and envious as they swept over Jenna's hair and face and slender figure in a white linen dress. 'Royce told me I wouldn't recognise you, and he was right.'
'Royce told you?' Jenna's smile faltered a little.
'He's been telling me a lot of things lately. I've had dinner with him every night this week.' Meg watched the colour slowly drain from her sister's face with malicious satisfaction. 'You didn't know that, did you? And I'm having lunch with him today. Didn't he tell you?'
Jenna looked quickly away, struggling to keep her face expressionless. 'Of course he did. I must have forgotten.'
'You didn't forget.' Meg advanced closer to the desk. 'Don't pretend with me. I know you, Jenna. He's seeing other women, isn't he? He's already tired of you. I told him before he married you it wouldn't work. You were stupid to think it would.'
A numbing coldness crept over her, 'Yes, I know.'
'He should have married me!'
'If you hadn't tampered with Robbie's birth certificate…'
Meg's laugh was mocking. 'Oh no, that was the smartest thing I ever did. That's why he despises you so much. Peter had you first! Isn't that rich?'
'Only you would appreciate the irony of it.' Jenna's heart seemed to shrivel. 'And you're not going to tell him what really happened, are you? How it was you instead of me?'
'And have him stop despising you? Oh no, Jenna. You're that kid's mother. He'll never hear any different from me.'
Jenna let out a bitter sigh, searching her face, trying to understand her. 'You hate me so much, Meg. It makes you feel good to know I'm not happy. Why?'
Her sister's sneer was full of triumph. 'You thought you were so responsible. You, Jenna. What did you know about life? Mom was wrong to ask you. All you ever did was run things and tell me what not to do. I showed you, didn't I? I don't need you!'
Jenna took a deep calming breath. 'I didn't realise you saw my concern as interference.' All her anger left her. 'I'm sorry, Meg. If I had it to do over again, things would be different. I've changed since becoming part of the Drummond family. Now I know how it feels to be loved and accepted.'
'Royce only married you to give the kid a name. He doesn't love you. He didn't marry you for yourself!'
Jenna managed to keep her voice level. 'I know that, Meg. That's all there is between us. It's his family who loves me. I take care of them for him and in return, he provides for Robbie and me. It's a fair arrangement.'.
'Are you telling me you don't mind sharing him with all those kids as well as who knows how many mistresses?' She just couldn't resist turning the knife. 'And I thought you were the one with all the pride!'
'You wouldn't understand.' Jenna was beginning to tremble and she folded her hands tightly in her lap, trying not to let it show.
'I'm not stupid, but you are. He's only using you.'
A miserable, wrenching pain twisted inside her as she turned her head away. 'I don't need you to tell me that.' Hot tears were gathering in her throat and it hurt to talk.
'Why, you love him! Plain Jenna Caldwell dares to love Royce Drummond!' Meg was genuinely shocked. 'How dare you?'
Taking great calming breaths, Jenna felt her fierce pride erupting, beginning to break through her icy control. 'How dare I? Do you think love is only for the beautiful? Do you think because I'm plain, I haven't got any feelings?' The blazing blue of her eyes was the only colour in her face. 'Yes, I love him, Meg. And that's something you don't know anything about. You only know how to use people. You take what they offer, but you don't know how to give. You've never given anything in your whole life!'
A loud sound of disgust came from Meg's throat. 'Ever the martyr, aren't you? Poor put-upon Jenna! It wasn't my fault you slaved away for me and I didn't appreciate it.' Her face changed. 'Come out of your dream world. There are no fairy godmothers to do away with your wicked sister. I want Royce and I'll have him. I could make him happy in a way you never could. Do you think he appreciates the way you're slaving for him? You're an embarrassment, that's all.'
Jenna drew an unsteady breath. 'What's wrong, Meg? You've only been married a little over a month yourself. Are you tired of Carlo already?'
'That peasant!' Meg said scathingly. 'He's not half as rich as he said he was. It's his father, the Borchini Cosmetic Company, who has all the money. He just gets an allowance.'
'I see.' Jenna's heart turned over in sympathy for the hapless Carlo. 'Didn't he know you didn't really want him, only his money?'
'I want Royce,' said Meg in a deadly quiet voice.
Jenna looked her straight in the eye for a long disturbing minute. 'I don't think he wants you,' she said just as quietly. 'He's my husband.'
'What happened to your pride? Let him go. Don't wait until he asks you to leave.'
'Oh no, Meg. He's not going to ask me.' Why should he? she thought. He's got it made. He can have all the women he wants, right under my nose, and I can't say a word. I have to pretend they don't even exist. It's what I'm being paid for.
'I'll make him leave you for me,' Meg said spitefully.
'I'm sure you aren't the first who's tried and you won't be the last.' Jenna's voice was cool and matter-of-fact. 'He may see a lot of different women, but I'm the one he married. You're not going to change that.'
'Just you watch me!'
And Jenna did watch her—for four long weeks. It was a struggle not to let her feelings show. Royce was looking more and more handsome every time Jenna saw him. A terrible yearning gnawed at her steadily. She found that love was a miserable emotion she could do without. But it only grew stronger and more tenacious with every attempt she made to crush it.
It was galling to think Royce cared so little for her feelings, but she was too proud and too stubborn to compete with her sister for him. In a way, she was grateful he didn't date Meg behind her back any more. Her imagination could be so much more vivid than the real thing.
Safely entrenched behind an icy mask of complete control, she made nightly reservations at expensive restaurants for them without a murmur and sent dozens of roses and ordered exquisite jewellery she knew would suit Meg's taste as well as her greed.
Several times in those weeks Royce came to her desk, staring at her, searching her face with his arms folded grimly, not saying a word. It was as if he was waiting
for her to make some comment about Meg. But she would stare back calmly, disconcerting him.
One hot August afternoon he came into her office and was about to pass her desk without a glance when, for some reason, he stopped and looked at her in the sharp unbroken silence. She sat perfectly still and straight and watched him without expression.
'Nothing touches you, does it?' he said, standing with his face set in chilling lines, his lip curling with contempt. 'Not even your selfish sister.'
'You'd be surprised,' she said cryptically, deliberately ignoring the storm signals in his eyes, handing him a thick sheaf of papers. 'Chad Redwicke stopped in earlier and asked me to hand these to you personally.' Turning back to her typewriter, she tried to shut him out of her mind.
'Stay away from that wolf!' he grated, a hard flush slowly creeping up his neck. 'You're my wife!'
'Not in this office, I'm not.' Her voice was level but defiant and she looked at him with enormous cold blue eyes.
He swooped right around the desk then and roughly pulled open her bottom drawer. Her handbag was there, and she watched in bewildered fascination as he tore it open and sent the contents scattering all over her desk. 'Where is it?' he demanded.
'Where's what?'
'Your ring!'
Without stopping to think, Jenna jumped to her feet and quickly backed away from him, her hand creeping protectingly up to her throat.
'Ah!' He followed her, step by jerky step, his grey eyes glittering when he saw the thin gold chain on her neck. 'How good of you to wear it so close to your heart. I didn't know you cared.'
Gripping the chain in his powerful fist, he swiftly jerked it, snapping the fragile links and sending the ring sliding down into her bra. He began to laugh and she glared at him in helpless rage as he deftly trust his hand down the front of her dress, searching for it.
For one pulsing second he looked straight into her eyes and she couldn't control an involuntary shiver. All her defences suddenly splintered. Naked need and yearning sprang like a flame from her to him.
'Oh, God, Jenna—' His anger drained away.
She trembled violently. Both her hands clutched at his wrist, trying to still his suddenly restless fingers burning on the soft warm swell of her breasts.
'Don't!' she gasped.
'You're my wife,' he demanded raggedly.
'Not he—' The word was choked off by the sudden suffocating pressure of his mouth crushing hers. A swirling blackness ran before her eyes and she resisted him for one crazy moment then gave up the useless struggle. After all, it was what she wanted, what she craved. A dying little sob caught in her throat and her body instinctively arched towards his, melting against him. She was a boneless, quivering puppet, his to command. Her arms crept up to his neck and she caressed his head and sank her fingers into his thick black hair.
'Oh, Jenna,' he groaned against her mouth. 'Jenna—'
Surprising tears spilled helplessly from her eyes, rolling down her face, dampening his lips. She knew it wasn't love on his part. Later she would have to bear the sense of humiliation, knowing she should have been stronger and resisted him, but now, here, close, to him like this, it didn't matter. Nothing mattered. She loved him, and for this moment he was hers.
'Jenna,' he murmured, suddenly tasting the salty tang of her tears, 'don't cry! Please don't cry!' He left her mouth and sought the pale length of her throat, his warm lips resting against her thickly pounding pulse. 'Things can't go on like this. I can't—'
She stiffened, trembling violently, then jerked herself away, staring at him, trying to read his twisted face. Was this the end, then? Had Meg finally succeeded?
Her tear-stained face held a trace of terror and Royce hurriedly slipped the ring on her finger, holding it there tightly, nearly crushing it. 'We have to talk, Jenna—'
A sudden cough behind them made them both start guiltily.
Chad Redwicke stood in the doorway. 'I did knock,' he said with a knowing saccharine smile.
Royce's whole body tensed before he turned. 'Haven't you ever heard of something called tact or discretion?' he muttered angrily, a faint hard flush creeping into his face. He ran his fingers over his hair to smooth it back into place.
Jenna's face flamed with guilty embarrassment as she swiftly checked the front of her dress and saw it gaping open.
'Oh, I started to leave,' Chad grinned, 'but then I stuck around to see if Jenna might need my help. I couldn't make up my mind if she was fighting you off or asking for it.'
'You're asking for it!' Royce snarled furiously, bristling at the derisive tone in Chad's voice.
Jenna watched Chad's smile become knowing and conspiratorial. 'You know how women are,' he chuckled, oblivious to the angry set of Royce's shoulders, the sudden curling of his fists, his wide bracing stance. 'Some plain women can't handle all the attention a new hairdo and makeup gives them. Jenna here thinks—'
Royce's fist shot out and Chad fell backwards on to the floor.
'Don't you ever say another word about my wife!' he shouted savagely. 'If you do, I'll beat you to a pulp! You won't have a tooth left in your head!'
'Your wife!' Chad's voice was thunderstruck. A thin trickle of blood came from his nose and his face was deathly white.
'That's right, my wife.' Royce grabbed Jenna's hand and held it up to show him the wide gold ring glinting on her finger.
'So that's why you changed so drastically!' Chad threw her a wounded look and struggled to his feet. 'I always wondered what deep dark secret you were hiding. You could have told me.'
'She doesn't have to answer to you. Now get out of here before I lose my temper and fire you!'
Chad opened his mouth to say something but evidently thought better of it. He snapped his jaw shut and walked out without another word.
Royce watched him go, then turned to Jenna. 'Get your things. We're going home where we can talk in private.'
'We can't,' she said shakily. Hope began to rise, but she made herself crush it, knowing it might lead to even more hurt. She was almost afraid to find out why he suddenly wanted it known that she was his wife. 'You've got a meeting with your accountant and then a dinner appointment with—' she leaned across her desk and searched her calendar, '—Sara Jennings.'
'Come with me, then. James makes my head spin with a lot of boring figures, but after the business is out of the way, the dinner is something we could enjoy together.'
A little quivering pain went through her. She stiffened her shoulders and faced him squarely. 'I'm sure I wouldn't enjoy it, Royce.' Her voice shook. 'Please let me keep at least a little of my self-respect. I don't want to meet your latest conquest.'
'Dammit, Jenna, she's not a conquest! She's a client. She's fifty-five years old and just inherited a dying publishing company from her husband. Someone told her a new line of advertising might help.
'Oh.' She stared at him, slow colour creeping up her neck, then guiltily looked away. How many other times had they been clients and not conquests? Her heart banged against her ribs with sudden hope.
'Look at me!' ordered Royce, a rough insistence in his husky voice. 'Do you believe me?'
She looked into his handsome face, caught by a strange gentle pleading she couldn't understand. It had been there so many times before, but she was sure she was misreading him. 'I want to,' she said warily.
'Then do. I admit there have been times when I deliberately wanted you to think these clients were—conquests, as you put it. But not any more. We've got to talk things out, clear up everything between us. Let's go now.'
She smiled tremulously, hope chasing dismay through her mind. 'I can't. Susan's taking Adam and Zack and Ryan to the baseball game tonight and I told her I'd be home early to watch Robbie.'
'What about Mrs MacPherson? She could watch him just this once.'
She shook her head, remembering how grateful the housekeeper had been when she had told her to take the evening off. 'No one was staying home tonight except me, so I told her she didn
't have to stay either.'
'Kathleen?' He looked at her hopefully.
'She's gone sailing with Charles Hyland. I don't expect her back much before midnight.'
Royce dragged his hands through his hair in distraction, muttering angrily before letting out a ragged oath. 'After dinner, then. I should be home by nine-thirty—ten at the latest.'
CHAPTER TEN
Jenna missed the bus she usually took home and the following one was more crowded and made twice as many stops as the earlier one. It was almost seven o'clock when she walked up the drive.
Susan was standing on the front steps waiting for her and quickly handed Robbie into her arms. 'I don't know why you insist on taking the bus,' she said on a wave of irritation. 'I could have picked you up and been home an hour ago.'
'I'm sorry, Susan. Call it my last stab at independence.' Jenna pushed away a fleeting memory of Royce's grim face when he had received that same answer to his same question right after they were married and he had offered to buy her her own car. 'I really didn't think I'd be this late. I got tied up at the office.'
'I told Royce we were going out tonight. Why couldn't he be more considerate and let you leave early? I don't understand him at all, any more. His mind is a million miles away.' Susan stamped her foot impatiently. 'We'll probably be late for the game and I wanted to tell you about Peter before he—'
'Come on, Susan! You can tell her Peter's good news later.' Ryan and Zachary ran down the steps and hustled her to the car. 'If we hurry, we just might get there before the third inning.'
'I'm really sorry, boys,' Jenna tried to apologise again as they sped past her.
'Don't worry about it, Jenna. It's no big deal.' Adam sauntered on to the porch and smiled at her before running his hand over Robbie's curly black hair. 'We won't miss any of the game. We'll be listening to it on the radio on our way—'
'Come on, Adam!' Ryan shouted. 'You can make eyes at Jenna some other time. We're going to be late!'
A red flush crept up his neck. 'I'm going,' he muttered angrily, turning away from her.
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