by Anne Mather
‘Joel!’
She scrambled backwards, but he was too quick for her, his hand reaching for the arm of the sofa, keeping her in her seat. ‘Now do you see what I mean?’ he demanded, gazing down at her with oddly possessive eyes. He used his free hand to trace a tantalising path from her breast to the button at her waist. ‘I’m wondering if we had sex together if it might help me to get you out of my skull. What do you think?’
‘In your dreams!’ Olivia sucked in a trembling breath, horrified by her own reaction to his outrageous suggestion. Oh, yeah, her libido applauded. Go for it, girl! Let’s get it on. But what she forced herself to say was, ‘Let me get up, Joel. I’ll get out of here and solve your problem.’
Joel shook his head. ‘You think it’s that easy?’
Olivia didn’t think it was easy at all. Her heart was pounding, her pulse was erratic, and her body felt as if it was on fire. If she wasn’t careful, he was going to realise her dilemma, and that made her edgy. ‘I have no desire to have sex with you, Joel,’ she insisted, and then recoiled with a gasp when his nail scraped down her zip.
For a breath-stealing moment she thought he’d opened it, and she knew her panties were already wet. Heavens, she thought with relief, discovering she’d been mistaken, if he’d slipped his hand inside her jeans he’d have soon found out what a liar she was.
But he wasn’t finished with her. ‘Sure?’ he asked, lowering himself until his chest was just touching hers. The clean male smell she’d noticed earlier rose from his opened shirt, and she could tell from the stubble on his jawline that he hadn’t shaved since the night before.
She couldn’t deny the moan that rose into her throat as he deliberately pressed closer. His chin scraped her cheek and he used both hands to pull her T-shirt out of her jeans. Then warm palms spread against her midriff, his thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts with wilful intent.
‘In my dreams, hmm?’ he taunted her softly, and this time she wasn’t mistaken about the invasion of his hand. ‘Oh, baby,’ he muttered thickly as his fingers found her secret, and then his mouth sought hers and the room began to spin dizzily about her.
The sound of footsteps crossing the parquet floor was instantly sobering. ‘Damn,’ muttered Joel savagely, hauling himself away from her, and by the time the boy appeared in the doorway his father was standing by the window, apparently watching the lambs in the distant field.
Olivia didn’t want to get up. Her legs felt like jelly and every nerve in her body felt as raw as an open wound. But she had to prove—to herself as well as Joel—that she was no pushover. Pushing her T-shirt down and herself up, she turned to smile at the boy.
‘Feeling better?’ she asked with assumed brightness and Sean made a face.
‘That depends,’ he muttered, his eyes moving to his father. ‘What have you two been talking about?’
‘Not that it’s any business of yours,’ said Joel irritably, and Sean hung his head.
But the truth was, Joel was feeling both thwarted and guilty. Dammit, his son was more important than the unwanted hunger Olivia inspired in him. Yet he only had to look at her to feel again the mindless need of total fascination.
How many more times was he going to let her make a fool of him? OK, she hadn’t exactly invited him to make love to her, but she hadn’t tried very hard to stop him either. Aching with frustration, he struggled to remember what was important here.
‘I’ll—talk to your mother,’ he told the boy flatly, and then wished he hadn’t made it sound like a done deal when Sean flung himself into his arms.
‘Thanks, Dad!’ he exclaimed fervently. ‘I knew Olivia would help you see it my way.’
‘Olivia?’
Joel scowled, and Olivia hastily tried to put him straight. ‘I just said I was sure you’d put things right with his mother,’ she mumbled awkwardly, and Joel gave her a suspicious look.
But when he spoke to his son, he didn’t question it. ‘I’m not promising anything, Sean,’ he said, peeling the boy’s arms from around him and holding him by his shoulders. ‘But I’ve got to tell her where you are, anyway, and I’m sure she’ll agree to let you spend the night here at least.’
She’d better, Joel added silently, meeting Olivia’s eyes again, letting her see his frustration. When would Louise have asked him about their son’s whereabouts? he wondered angrily. Did she even care?
Then, realising Olivia would interpret his expression differently, he continued, ‘You approve?’
Olivia lifted her shoulders but, before she could make any response, Sean intervened. ‘Just tonight?’ he asked plaintively, and she realised he did tend to push his luck with his father.
‘Look, I’ve got to be going,’ she said, hoping to prevent another confrontation. ‘Nice to meet you, Sean.’
Sean’s face dropped, and he swung away from Joel to stare at her. ‘But we’ll see you again, won’t we?’ he protested. And then, to his father, ‘Olivia’s staying with her father, too,’ almost as if their situations were comparable.
‘I know.’ Joel nodded. ‘Say goodbye, Sean. And thank Mrs—’
‘Olivia,’ put in his son at once. ‘She said I could call her Olivia.’
‘OK.’ Joel forced a tight smile. ‘Thank—her for taking the trouble to bring you here.’ Then, gritting his teeth, ‘We both appreciate it.’
‘Do you?’
Olivia’s lips twisted and Joel’s stomach tightened in spite of all his efforts to ignore what had happened. Dammit, was having an affair with her the only way he was going to get her out of his mind?
‘You better believe it,’ he responded now, but even to his own ears he sounded rattled. ‘Sean?’
‘Oh, yeah. Thanks, Olivia.’ His son had no such hang-ups. ‘But I can come and see you at the farm, can’t I?’
‘Sean!’
‘Of course you can,’ she responded, her eyes challenging Joel to contradict her. ‘See you—both—later.’
CHAPTER EIGHT
OLIVIA drove back to Bridgeford, her head buzzing. What had happened to all her brave predictions of not getting involved with her ex-husband? Here she was, befriending his son, letting Joel back into her life and her emotions.
And why?
In Sean’s case, it was easy. She liked him, she liked him a lot. All her thwarted maternal instincts came to the fore when she saw how unhappy he was.
With Joel, however, it was anything but easy to understand. Hadn’t he hurt her enough? Was she so desperate for a man that she was prepared to go to any lengths to satisfy her sexual needs? If so, she was pathetic!
But that wasn’t the whole story. In truth, she’d forgotten how vulnerable she’d always been where Joel was concerned. Hadn’t that day at his office taught her anything? She should have remembered that in the old days he’d only had to look at her in a certain way and she’d be begging him to make love to her.
She’d only been fourteen when she’d become aware that Joel was interested in her. Oh, she’d noticed how attractive he was. All her friends had thought he was totally hot! Ironic, really, that Jayne had used the same adjective. But it had been such a thrill when he’d first asked her out.
Naturally, her sister had warned her against getting involved with a boy who was older than she was. At fourteen, sixteen had seemed like a great age. But she hadn’t been willing to listen to anyone’s advice. She’d assured Linda she knew what she was doing. The physical attraction that had initially brought them together had deepened into love, and she’d believed that nothing and no one would ever split her and Joel up.
Until she’d succeeded in doing it herself…
Martin’s car was in the yard when she got back to the farm, and she took a guilty glance at her watch. It was a quarter-past eleven, three-quarters of an hour later than she’d intended. But surely, when she explained the circumstances, they’d understand.
However, when she entered the kitchen, only Linda was sitting at the table, glancing through some coloured broc
hures spread out in front of her.
‘Hi,’ said Olivia awkwardly. ‘Sorry I’m late.’
Linda looked up. ‘Where have you been?’
‘To Millford.’ Olivia realised some further explanation was needed, and added, ‘Joel’s son needed a lift.’
‘Joel’s son?’ Linda frowned. ‘You mean Sean?’
‘Mmm.’ Olivia moved to the stove to help herself to some coffee, not wanting Linda to study her too closely. ‘Where’s Martin?’
‘He’s gone to help Andy clear out one of the cottages.’ Linda got up from her chair. ‘How did you meet Sean Armstrong? I didn’t know you knew him. Shouldn’t he have been in school?’
‘I expect so.’ Olivia looked down into her cup of coffee, refusing to meet her sister’s accusing gaze. She told herself she wouldn’t be intimidated into revealing things that were really none of Linda’s business. ‘What did you want to talk to me about?’
Linda was taken aback. ‘Oh, well, Martin’s not here at the moment—’
‘I’m sure you don’t need Martin to hold your hand,’ said Olivia, her taste buds protesting at the bitter taste of the coffee. ‘Come on, Linda. Do you want me to leave?’
‘Heavens, no!’ Linda sounded horrified. ‘You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.’
‘So?’
Linda sighed, and then she bent and picked up one of the brochures she’d been looking at when Olivia came in and handed it over. ‘What do you think of that?’
Olivia put down her coffee and looked at the glossy publication. It had been issued by the local tourist board and contained a list of holiday accommodation in the area. It dealt primarily with farms offering bed and breakfast and others that had cottages to rent.
‘Well?’ There was a trace of excitement in Linda’s voice now. ‘Could Martin and I handle something like that?’
Olivia blinked. ‘Offer bed and breakfast, you mean?’
‘No!’ Linda clicked her tongue. ‘We don’t have enough room here to offer bed and breakfast. No, I meant the cottages. We want to modernise the ones we have and offer them as holiday rentals. What do you think?’
Olivia looked at the brochure again, trying to concentrate. ‘But aren’t the cottages occupied?’
‘Not any more,’ said Linda at once. ‘I told you about the sheep and cattle being destroyed. There was no point in paying men we didn’t need and couldn’t afford.’
‘You asked them to leave?’
Linda was dismissive. ‘Some of them left of their own accord. They got jobs elsewhere.’
‘And the rest?’
‘I believe they were offered council accommodation.’ She sighed. ‘It wasn’t our problem. Livvy. We all have to do what’s necessary to make a living.’
Olivia shook her head. She doubted she could have been so ruthless. Or her father either. Had this had anything to do with his illness? It must have been a blow when he lost everything.
Now she said, ‘If you think renovating the cottages is viable, go for it.’ She hesitated. ‘What does Dad say?’
‘Oh, you know Dad.’ Linda was impatient. ‘In any case, he’s not running the farm now, Martin is. And once Dad sees how successful we are, he’ll come round. It’s not as if he’s ever going to be able to run the place himself again.’
Olivia shrugged. ‘Well, it’s really nothing to do with me, is it? I mean, I don’t live here.’
Linda bit her lip. ‘No,’ she conceded. ‘But—well, we do need your help.’
‘My help?’
‘Yes.’ Linda hesitated. ‘Look, I won’t beat about the bush, we need—financial assistance. We can’t go to the bank because they won’t lend Martin any money while the farm still belongs to Dad. And you know what he’s like about going into debt.’
Olivia stared at her. ‘So Dad’s opposed to this venture, then?’
‘Need you ask? He’s never forgiven us for giving the men notice. He’s not practical, Livvy. Whatever he thinks, we can’t live on fresh air.’
Olivia nodded. Actually, she sympathised with their predicament. She might not like Martin, but she’d never accuse him of being lazy. And the leisure industry was booming.
‘It sounds—feasible,’ she said at last. ‘I’m sure you’ll have no trouble attracting visitors to this area. But—’ She pulled a face. ‘I can’t help you, Linda. I wish I could, but I don’t have any money. Just enough for a deposit on an apartment, if I’m lucky.’
Linda looked stunned. ‘You’re not serious.’
‘I’m afraid I am.’
‘But you told Dad that Bruce was a wealthy man.’
‘He was.’ And then before Linda could interrupt her again, she went on, ‘I left Bruce, Linda. He didn’t want me to and consequently there was no generous settlement when we divorced. Besides, I didn’t want any of his money. I wanted a clean break. That’s partly why I came back to England.’
‘But what about your own money? You’d been earning a good salary. What happened to that?’
Olivia was tempted to say it was none of her sister’s business, but she didn’t want to fall out with her, so she answered truthfully, ‘Lawyers’ fees are expensive, Linda. And although I earned a healthy salary when I was in London, I’m afraid I never saw the need to save in those days.’
‘So why did you leave Bruce? Was there someone else?’
‘Not as far as I was concerned, no.’
‘But if you’re saying he was the guilty party,’ Linda said, ‘you were entitled to half his assets, weren’t you?’
Olivia didn’t want to get into the reasons for the breakup or relate how impossible it would have been for her to prove that Bruce was seeing someone else. ‘I just wanted out of the relationship,’ she said quietly. ‘I’m sorry, Linda. I wish I could help you, but I can’t.’
‘Yes, well, being sorry isn’t going to pay for the renovations. Those cottages have needed updating for years.’
Olivia sat down in the chair opposite. ‘If there was anything I could do—’
‘There is.’ As if the idea had just occurred to her, Linda stared at her through narrowed eyes. ‘You could talk to Dad, persuade him that this is the only way to keep the farm.’
‘Oh, I don’t know…’
‘Why not? You said you wanted to help, and he’ll listen to you. You’re the prodigal daughter. If you say you’re in favour, he might be prepared to consider getting a loan.’
As luck would have it, Andy came in at that moment and Olivia was able to make her escape without answering her. She knew it was only a temporary release, that sooner or later she would have to come to a decision. But for now, she was grateful for the chance to be on her own.
But, in the days that followed, it seemed that Martin had persuaded his wife to give her sister some breathing space. The plan wasn’t mentioned again and Olivia was able to pretend she didn’t have the sword of Damocles hanging over her head. Instead she pursued her efforts to get her father to use a wheelchair, seducing him with promises of taking him out in her car, away from the prying eyes of Bridgeford.
Nurse Franklin agreed with her and, whether she thought that leaving them alone together would achieve her own ends or not, Linda put her considerable weight behind it, too. So much so that Ben Foley said he was heartily weary of being put upon. But then he delighted them all by agreeing to give the wheelchair a chance.
Consequently, a week later, Olivia and Linda helped the old man out of the wheelchair and into the front seat of the Renault. It had been arranged that Olivia would drive him down to the coast and Linda had prepared a flask of coffee for them to take with them. She was evidently doing her best to sweeten the atmosphere and Olivia had been so pleased with her father’s progress that she hadn’t thought of leaving for days.
Olivia drove to Redes Bay, driving down the precarious cliff road and parking on the dunes above the beach. The place seemed deserted; the children were all in school and it was too early in the season for holidaymakers to brave the c
ool north-east wind that was blowing off the sea. Across the road from the beach, the small pub was doing better business, but no one was taking advantage of the outdoor tables today.
However, inside the car it was snug and cosy. And the view was magnificent: a stretch of almost deserted sand with the white-capped waves stretching as far as the eye could see. Ben Foley heaved a sigh and then turned his head to look at his daughter. ‘Thanks for this,’ he said sheepishly. ‘I’ve been an old fool, haven’t I?’
‘Just stubborn,’ said Olivia gently. ‘No change there, then. Now, do you want a cup of Linda’s coffee? Or would you rather have a beer?’
Her father gaped. ‘A beer,’ he said fervently. ‘It’s six months since I had a beer.’
‘You’re probably not supposed to have alcohol,’ said Olivia doubtfully, half wishing she hadn’t mentioned it. ‘But one beer won’t do any harm, will it?’
Her father agreed, and, leaving him sitting in the car, she walked across the road to the pub. She was wearing jeans and a warm woollen jersey but she was still cold. She really would have to toughen up, she thought, if she was going to make her home in this area.
Now, where had that come from?
She’d been thinking about it for some time, she realised. Having got to know her father again, she was loath to go back to London and only get the chance to see him a couple of times a year. If she got a job with an estate agency in Newcastle, she could buy herself an apartment there. That way, she’d be able to visit the farm as often as she could.
There was a big four-wheel-drive vehicle parked in front of the pub. It looked like Joel’s Lexus, she thought uneasily, but when she stepped into the bar there was no sign of him. And, after all, she told herself as she ordered her father a beer and herself a diet cola, there must be other cars like his in the area. When the weather was bad, a four-wheel-drive vehicle was invaluable.