by Penny Jordan
‘Home!’ His mouth was bitter. ‘It’s been years since I had a home, Kate, and I do want to eat with you. I’d just like to freshen up a little first, that’s all.’
She showed him where the bathroom was, and then went into her bedroom to get some towels. She wasn’t aware that he had followed her until she turned and saw him lounging in the doorway, watching her. Heat filled her body as she looked at him, remembering their marriage. ‘I think there’ll be enough there.’ She thrust the towels at him, her voice disturbingly thick and husky, her elbow catching the door which swung towards him. Jake caught it with one hand and stepped into the bedroom to avoid it, his body suddenly tense.
‘I see you’ve kept this.’ Kate froze as he fingered the towelling robe hanging up behind the door. It was one that he used to wear when they were married, and she had taken it with her when she left. On her it was huge and far too long, but she found it comforting to be wrapped up inside it. Her ‘security blanket’, Meg laughingly called it, and Kate flushed as she realised exactly why she had clung so desperately to what was, after all, no more than a piece of cloth. It was the only part of Jake she had allowed herself to bring away with her, and she had held on to it defiantly throughout their separation.
‘Er…it was cheaper than buying a new one,’ she told him huskily, not daring to look at him. ‘Now I’ll leave you to shower, and go and see about our meal.’
It was very disturbing to have a man sharing the intimacy of her life again, however briefly, and she was acutely conscious of Jake’s presence in her flat as she set about preparing their meal. Her preparations had been finished for over half an hour before she began to wonder how long he intended to spend in her bathroom. The silence of the flat was so dense that she was almost prepared to believe she had imagined him. Concern began to pluck small frowns from her forehead. What was he doing?
The bathroom door was open, the light out. Frowning, Kate walked into her bedroom. Jake was sprawled across the bed, deeply asleep, far too much of his body for comfort, exposed by the robe he had repossessed. His hair was still damp from the shower, a dark blur against her pillow. A huge lump rising in her throat as she studied the relaxed sprawl of his body, she remembered far too easily the intimacy of it entwined in sleep with hers. She ought to wake him, but she didn’t have the heart. Surely he wouldn’t sleep for very long, and if he did, she could always use Meg’s room. If he woke up later and was hungry she could make him an omelette. Almost without her being aware of it a decision had been reached, and her mouth was unknowingly tremulous and tender as she tugged the duvet gently away from his body, tensing only when her fingers inadvertently strayed to his thigh. Jake was beautifully proportioned physically; broad shoulders, narrow waist, lean hips and flat muscular buttocks, his legs long, hard with muscle, compared with hers, rough with the dark hairs that if she closed her eyes she could still remember scraping erotically against her more tender skin. He muttered something in his sleep as she touched him and Kate tensed, waiting for him to wake up, but his lashes did not more than flicker without lifting, the deep, even rhythm of his breathing telling her that he was still asleep.
As she pulled the duvet up round him Kate was assailed by a feeling of indescribable tenderness; almost maternal in its desire to protect and nourish him. In sleep the hard-hewn features softened into rare vulnerability. Her fingers touched his jaw, scraping against the darkness of his beard, the brief touch turning fluidly to a caress which no power on earth could have stopped. It made her ache just to touch him like this, and she withdrew her fingers as though the brief contact with his flesh had burned. How he would mock her if he knew how desperately she wanted to caress the sleeping contours of his body, to waken them to the need flooding through her! Before she weakened completely she bent her head, and brushed her lips softly across his mouth, then she straightened up and walked swiftly out of the room while she still had the strength to do so.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘KATE, ARE YOU sure you’re all right? You haven’t heard a word I’ve said!’
Kate flashed Kevin an apologetic smile. He had called into the shop on his way home, but he was right when he accused her of having her mind on other things. She had been thinking about Jake, remembering waking on Boxing Day morning to the discovery that some time during the night he had woken and left. A briefly curt note thanking her for taking pity on him was all that was left of his presence. Why had he gone like that? Without a word? The duvet had been left neatly at the end of the bed, the bathrobe folded as though he were in fact a casual stranger and no more. Her tongue touched dry lips as she was invaded again with the sexual tension she experienced each time she thought about him.
‘Kate, for the fourth time, have you seen this article yet?’ Kevin was brandishing a copy of their local paper. Beneath the banner headlines of the front page she glimpsed her own name, her eyes widening in disbelief as she took the paper from him. ‘Like I said, I can’t believe you would willingly volunteer such information. Apart from its being a breach of confidence—you remember we all gave Jake our word that we would say nothing about what he had revealed to us, at least until he had a chance to put matters right—the Kate I know would never be so vindictive. An article like this could prejudice the whole future of the Safety Committee. Kate, are you listening to me?’ he asked patiently, sighing as he realised she probably hadn’t heard a word he had said. She had been too busy studying the paper he had handed her.
‘I never… Kevin, I don’t understand,’ she finished numbly. ‘It says here that I revealed that the safety standards at the station were well below those recommended, and…’ She glanced at the newsprint again, as it danced beneath her eyes. ’Well-known anti-nuclear local business-woman speaks out’, ran the headline, and there was a brief description of her and the shop, all subtly emphasising her anti-nuclear stance. However, it was the paragraphs which followed the headlines that astounded her the most. They revealed in careful detail the deficiencies Jake had outlined to them at the meeting of the Safety Committee—deficiencies which had been discussed in strict confidentiality.
‘Harold Barnes who wrote this piece, the editor of the local rag, was at the Crabtrees’ Christmas party,’ Kevin told her gently. ‘I saw you talking to him, Kate.’
‘Yes, but I never told him any of this,’ she protested feverishly, ‘none of it.’ Dimly she remembered Harold Barnes questioning her, but the questions had been concerning her own views on nuclear disarmament, and while her responses might have been personally betraying they had not involved Jake or the power station.
‘No, I’m sure you didn’t,’ Kevin soothed, ‘but the piece is pretty explosive and does sum up your views, Kate. Other people…’
‘Meaning Jake,’ she inserted fiercely. Oh God, of course Jake would think she had broken her word and given Harold Barnes the details of their meeting. A hectic flush stole over her face, her eyes were dark with despair.
‘It strikes me that Rita might be responsible,’ Kevin offered, further astonishing her. ‘She saw Jake going to join you on the terrace,’ he added gently, ‘and I did see her talking to Harold later in the evening. She’s a very dangerous enemy, Kate, and she’s judged your weak point well.’
‘Yes.’ Her voice was husky with strain. ‘Jake will never believe I haven’t done this purely out of malice, but I’ve got to try to talk to him. If I don’t it just makes me look more guilty. I swear to God, Kevin, I would never do anything like this—never!’
‘I know,’ he assured her simply. ‘But others may not be so…’
‘Understanding?’ She thought of the other members of the committee, most of whom knew her views on nuclear power. Would they too condemn her as guilty, believing she had given that interview?
‘I must telephone the paper,’ she said angrily. ‘I want them to print a disclaimer. I’ll tell them I’ll sue if they don’t!’
Kevin shook his head. ‘Barnes will never back down, especially if Rita gave him this information. He won’t want to r
eveal his source, and you’ve no legal proof that you didn’t tell him, just as he has none that you did.’
‘And everyone at the party saw me speaking to him,’ Kate added despairingly. ‘What on earth am I going to do?’
‘You ought to go and see Jake,’ Kevin suggested gently, confirming her own thoughts.
‘Yes—yes, I will,’ she told him huskily, ‘and thanks for…for believing in me, Kevin.’
Long after he had gone the article absorbed her. Even now with it in black and white in front of her she couldn’t believe it was real; couldn’t believe someone would have the effrontery to twist the truth into this web of lies and truth which made one indistinguishable from the other. She was sure Kevin was correct in saying that Rita had been responsible for the details of the safety deficiences; her father was a member of the committee and it wouldn’t have been very hard for her to get hold of the facts. Not only was she destroying the relationship she doubtless thought existed between herself and Jake, Kate thought miserably, she was also probably enjoying the knowledge that she had scored off against Jake; a subtle revenge for the way he had treated her when she had discovered them together. Rita’s was the kind of mind that would enjoy that victory almost as much as she would enjoy destroying a ‘rival’.
When Meg returned from shopping Kate showed her the article, explaining Kevin’s theory. ‘It’s just the sort of thing she would do,’ Meg agreed, but her forehead was pleated in a frown and Kate knew without her saying so that she was worried that people would believe what they read, and even that it might affect their business. There was a certain degree of loyalty to the station in the area, primarily because it was a major source of jobs, and Kate knew that many of the villagers did not share her views.
She was trembling when she dressed to go and visit Jake. She had timed her visit hoping to arrive when he returned home from work and catch him to put her case before he saw the article. She couldn’t implicate Rita; for one thing he probably wouldn’t believe her, but she could assure him that Harold Barnes lied when he intimated that she had been the one to give him the information he had used to such devastating effect in his article.
Her heart sank when she reached the house and discovered that his BMW was nowhere in sight. Even so, she rang the bell, trying to look calm and cool when she was confronted by Mrs Hillary looking wary and disapproving. Her heart sank even further when she was told that no, Jake hadn’t arrived back. ‘But are you expecting him?’ she pressed.
‘Aye,’ was the uncompromising response, but something of her despair must have communicated itself to the other woman, because she added on a more kindly note, ‘He shouldn’t be long. Did you want to come in and wait for him? Only it’s gone time that I left. I’ve put him a shepherd’s pie in the oven.’
Accepting her invitation, Kate followed Mrs Hillary into the open plan living room, refusing her offer of a cup of coffee and assuring her that she was quite content to wait alone. ‘I’ll be on my way, then,’ Mrs Hillary told her, the disapproval back in her voice. There was a copy of the paper on the coffee table—hardly surprising, as they were delivered freely in the area, and Kate guessed that she had read it and made her own judgments.
Left to her own devices, she read it again, tension clawing painfully in the pit of her stomach as half an hour drifted into an hour and then into two. Where was Jake? She glanced at her watch. It was gone nine. Surely he couldn’t be much longer unless…she gnawed frantically at her bottom lip. How humiliating it would be if he had a date with Rita and arrived back with her, expecting to find an empty house. But she couldn’t leave now, with her mission unaccomplished. If she did, she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep. No, she was determined to wait for him. She went into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee, turning off the oven and extracting the now desiccated shepherd’s pie, comforting herself with the knowledge that Mrs Hillary had expected him back, alone.
Ten o’clock came and went. Across the valley lights started to go out as early rising sheep farmers went to bed. Her nerves stretched to breaking point, Kate paced anxiously over the carpet. When was he coming back? Where was he?
A sherry decanter on the table in front of the fire caught her eye, and she poured herself a glass in a mood of sudden defiance, telling herself that she needed both its warming effect and its borrowed courage. In the event all it did was make her feel sleepy, and she curled up in the fireside chair, telling herself that it wouldn’t hurt to close her eyes for a few brief seconds. The seconds turned to minutes, her sleep so deep that she didn’t hear the soft purr of the BMW as it came up the drive.
The unlocking of the front door failed to wake her as well, and it wasn’t until Jake was bending over her that she came abruptly to full consciousness, her eyes opening wide, the instinctive movement of her body bringing her against him, his mouth a mere breath away as he bent over her.
Her next action was as automatic as it was foolish, a legacy from the days of her marriage when she would often fall asleep downstairs as she waited for him. She raised her face the short distance that separated them, her lips parting involuntarily as they brushed against his, only his smothered gasp of surprise alerting her to the fact that they were no longer living as man and wife; that she no longer had the right to welcome him home with a kiss that invited the merging of their bodies, but even as her hands fluttered up to grasp his shoulders and push herself away, Jake’s astonishment gave way to responsive hunger, his mouth moving swiftly over hers, his fingers trapping her face, holding her captive beneath the sensual onslaught of his lips against hers, shaping, moulding, deepening in intensity, until she moaned his name beneath her breath, her hands sliding wantonly round his neck, exploring the shape of his bones beneath the covering of thick hair at his nape, while the heated surge of desire beat up inside her, impelling her to bite hungrily at his bottom lip, nibbling the soft flesh until she felt his groaned response in the renewed urgency of his mouth.
‘Kate, for God’s sake!’ He pulled away from her, the lamplight gleaming on the smooth darkness of his throat as he pulled off his tie and unfastened the top buttons of his shirt as though their presence constricted him. A pulse thudded erotically just below the surface of his skin and she buried her face against the warm flesh exposed by his impatient fingers, lost in the heady possession of her senses by the scent and feel of him, her fingers trembling against the column of his throat, the kiss she pressed against the heavily thudding pulse making him mutter hoarsely beneath his breath, his arms tightening round her, as his throat arched convulsively beneath her stroking tongue inviting the moist exploration of her mouth along the strong line of his shoulder, her fingers impatiently pushing aside his shirt, her teeth biting sensually into the smooth brown flesh, feeling him tense and shudder unable to stem his physical response.
The purpose of her visit was completely forgotten, as her senses took over from her mind, telling her that this was what she really wanted, this heated, almost savage communication which didn’t need words; which spoke eloquently of all that she wanted with the merest touch.
Jake was unfastening her blouse, lifting her in his arms as he pushed it aside, his eyes probing the soft flesh barely hidden by the silk bra she was wearing. ‘I want you in my bed tonight, Kate,’ he told her softly. ‘In my arms…’
‘I want to be there too, Jake.’ She saw the response burning deep in his eyes and was glad she had found the courage to say the words. What did it matter that she loved him and he didn’t love her? She had gone hungry for him for too long to deny herself the pleasure his eyes were promising, and as he carried her up the open stairway she knew that tonight she wanted to give herself to him completely, squandering everything she had upon him without thought or caution. Later she could count the cost, but tonight she would belong to him so completely that there would never be another woman who would give him quite as much.
She lay quiescent while he undressed her, not touching him, not speaking, simply watching the unhurried movemen
t of his hands, an answering smile curving her lips as he paused and bent towards her, a soft warmth in his voice that was unfamiliar as he said, ‘You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she agreed simply. She had enjoyed watching the expressions on his face as he slowly removed her clothes, rather like a small child discovering favourite toys.
‘I’m enjoying it too,’ he told her huskily. His fingers traced the indentation of her waist, stroking the silky smoothness of her stomach, and then downwards towards the narrow jut of her hip. Kate watched him with an inner hunger which she masked behind an air of indolent languor, watching him touch her body, tensing against the shudder of pleasure coiling through her when his lips brushed against her hip.
‘I shouldn’t have done that.’ His forehead was damp when he leaned it against her skin. ‘You go to my head like wine,’ he told her softly, ‘Just to touch you makes me…’ He broke off and watched her as she smiled down at him. ‘Now it’s your turn to undress me,’ he told her, holding her with his eyes so that she couldn’t escape and couldn’t conceal the responsive shudder of her body, telling him how much she wanted to do just that. ‘God, Kate, don’t you know what that does to me, knowing the thought of touching me makes you feel like that?’
‘I shivered, that’s all,’ she lied, protestingly, suddenly frightened of the desire she could read in his eyes.
‘Mmm. When you shiver like that, I…’ His hand had been curved lightly round her breast, and he moved as he spoke, cupping its fullness, his teeth tugging the burgeoning flesh gently, until she arched beneath him, his name interspersed with tiny pleading cries of pleasure, her fingers curling protestingly into the sheets underneath her, not knowing whether to be glad or sorry when he released her swollen flesh. ‘Now will you undress me?’ he asked her, his voice deep and thick with passion as he turned his head and repeated the sensual assault on her other breast, this time paying no heed to her feverish cries, only releasing her when her nails bit deeply into his shoulders and her body threshed beneath him in a way he knew signified her arousal.