Jarrett had always wondered what a pregnant silence was like—now he knew! Cathy had walked away and left a tense silence behind her, full of expectation. Jarrett had a distinct feeling that blood might actually flow— his!
'Abbie—'
'I'm leaving, Jarrett,' she told him stonily. 'If you have any sense, you won't come with me.'
No one had ever credited him with sense—plenty of other things, but not sense! 'I'm coming with you,' he told her grimly, wanting to reach out and clasp her arm, but knowing it was the worst thing he could do at this particular moment. Completely unlike the woman who had flowed so easily in his arms on the dance floor, Abbie was now as tense as a taut piece of string, and if he attempted to touch her she was likely to snap, hitting out at the first available target—again him! 'We need to talk,' he insisted heavily.
'Talk!' She almost spat the word at him, eyes flashing deeply violet. 'I suggest you try talking to Cathy—she actually wants to talk to you!'
He gave a deep sigh. 'If you'll let me, Abbie, I can explain about Cathy—'
'I don't want your explanations, Jarrett, about anything.' She turned on him harshly, snatching up her bag from the table. 'You've already told me one lie that I know of—thanks to Cathy!—and anything else you have to say is, in my opinion, suspect!'
His mouth tightened at the insult. 'Your opinion would be wrong!' he bit out hardly.
Abbie gave him a look of withering disgust as she shook her head. 'I don't think so.'
'You aren't thinking at all at this moment,' he rasped, leaching out instinctively to touch her, realising too late it was the worst thing he could have done, Abbie funding back as if he had just struck her. Minutes ago she had been fluid and warm in his arms; he had a sinking feeling that would never happen again. It would be pure luck on his part if Abbie ever allowed him near her again, and, the way his luck was going at the moment, he didn't stand a chance!
'Abbie, let's get out of here and talk. I'll explain about Cathy—'
'No—I'll explain about Cathy!' she told him vehemently, breathing hard, angry colour in her cheeks as turned and strode forcefully out of the restaurant, completely unaware of the male attention she received as she did so.
But Jarrett was very aware of it, scowling at each and every man who had watched Abbie's exit with interest, totally ignoring the friendly wave Cathy Sutherland gave him as they passed close by the table she sat at with her group of friends. If it weren't for Cathy and her damned—
No, he realised as he looked regretfully at the rigidness of Abbie's shoulders as she walked ahead of him, what had just happened, in view of his evasion where Cathy was concerned, had been inevitable, if not now, then at some time in the future. But even if he had told Abbie the truth earlier he knew her reaction would have been exactly the same. His acquaintance with Cathy, no matter how fleeting or uninvolved on his part, would always have received this censure from Abbie. An accident waiting to happen... And how it had happened!
Abbie waited impatiently for him in the foyer of the restaurant as he paid the bill, totally dismissing the maitre d's worry that their hurried departure had anything to do with the food or service. Obviously not too many people left shortly after ten o'clock!
Abbie was stony-faced as she sat beside him in the car, so controlled she looked as if she might break in two. There was more than fast thinking and explanations required here, Jarrett acknowledged inwardly, for the first time in his life wishing he had even half of Jonathan's charm or Jordan's cheeky humour. Neither of those two would have had any trouble talking themselves out of this one, had got themselves out of more scrapes with women than he wanted to even think about, whereas he— He didn't usually bother, he realised slowly; no woman had ever been important enough to him for him ever to feel the need to justify, or explain, his actions to them...
What was so different about Abbie? Oh, he had been attracted to her from the first, had told her as much earlier this evening. And on better acquaintance he had come to know the strength, and vulnerability, of her, the gentleness in her when she was with her daughter, her mischievous sense of humour when dealing with his brothers. She was a complex and intriguing woman, the tort of woman it might be impossible ever to know completely, even after a lifetime spent together.
Which brought him back to her marriage to Daniel Sutherland. Had she loved her husband? Were they happy together? Why did she hold herself so aloof from fee world?
But Jarrett knew, even if he got the answers to those questions, that there would be a hundred more he would want answered...
Abbie Sutherland fascinated him. She was—
'Where are we going?'
He snapped back into an awareness of their surroundings, rather than concentrating on the woman herself, realising as he did so that he had instinctively driven the or in the direction of his apartment.
Which was odd in itself. He always made it a rule never to take a woman home, had always found it more convenient to spend the night at the home of the woman he was currently involved with, and that way he could choose when he wanted to go. But he wasn't currently involved with Abbie, and so the same rule didn't apply...
To my apartment,' he replied firmly. 'It will be more private for the sort of conversation I believe we're going to have,' he explained as she looked at him sharply.
'Any raised voices in your house and your Mend Tony would come running!'
'Tony isn't my friend, he's my employee,' Abbie told him stiffly. 'And I never raise my voice.'
No, she didn't, he realised thoughtfully. She had been annoyed with him several times during their acquaintance, but she had always let him know in other ways how she felt rather than screaming and shouting at him. Although screaming and shouting might have been preferable now to this coldness.
'But I might,' he told her honestly.
Abbie shook her head. 'In that case you may as well take me straight to my home, and forget about the two of us talking; I don't like being shouted at, either!'
There were a hell of a lot of things this woman didn't like: shouting, being manhandled, him...! 'In that case,' he ground out tautly, 'I'll try my best not to shout'
'I would advise you to do more than try,' she told him scathingly. 'At the first sound of a raised voice, I'll leave.'
'Okay,' he agreed impatiently, hands tightly gripping the steering-wheel. 'I won't shout. God, you want your pound of flesh, don't you?' He might be fascinated by this woman, but he wasn't about to grovel!
'Only a pound, Jarrett?' she returned sarcastically. 'Believe me, that isn't nearly enough!'
He was glad to see that she seemed to be recovering some of her sense of humour, but was not so pleased that it seemed to be at his expense. Women; he would never understand them! And this woman least of all...
His apartment was serviceable rather than homely, he realised as he tried to see its expensive elegance through Abbie's no doubt critical eyes—they were sure to be critical; she had no reason to think of him any other way at the moment. It was a well-furnished apartment, open-plan lounge and dining area, gadget-orientated kitchen— anything to make life easier for him had to be worth it, and he couldn't always eat out!—with two bedrooms, both en suite. Although, of course, Abbie couldn't see the kitchen or the bedrooms. It was probably as well she couldn't see the latter; after he had left her this morning he had tried to get rid of some of his jet lag by going to bed for a couple of hours, and as far as he could remember he hadn't remade the bed, and his cleaner hadn't been in.
'Drink?' He indicated the selection of bottles on the aide-dresser.
Abbie stood unyielding across the room from him. "Will I need one?' she returned spikily.
'I do,' he acknowledged with a grimace. 'So you may as well join me.'
'In that case, a liqueur,' she accepted. 'Tia Maria, if you have it, please.'
He did, and he was glad of the few minutes' respite from the tension between them as he poured their drinks.
Now that he had Abbie here, he wasn't sure what to say to her...! And feelings of uncertainty weren't emotions he was comfortable with.
He handed Abbie her drink before sipping his own whisky, grateful for its stinging warmth. He had a feeing that the next few minutes were going to be critical d any future relationship he might have with Abbie—if there was to be a future relationship!
He swallowed down another gulp of the fiery alcohol before speaking. 'I met Cathy several months ago.' He came straight to the point-—as was his way. 'I admit, I rock up the acquaintance for reasons of my own,
'She was your "reliable source",' Abbie guessed.
'Up to a point,' he allowed guardedly.
Abbie gave him a scathing sweep with those deep violet-coloured eyes. 'And which point would that be?' she asked sceptically.
'The point where she had the information I wanted,' he answered tautly.
'Concerning me?' Abbie prompted quietly.
'Yes,' he replied abruptly. This evening hadn't gone at all as he had planned, and neither had this conversation; he was on the defensive, and he didn't damn well like the feeling!
'And exactly what form, may I ask, did this "acquaintance" take?'
'I haven't slept with her, if that's what you're asking!' His eyes blazed deeply golden. 'Credit me with some taste, if you please, Abbie.'
She gave an unconcerned gesture. 'Most men seem to find Cathy more than attractive.'
'Then most men must be blind, or just stupid!' he said harshly. 'Cathy Sutherland has more notches on her bedpost than I care to think about—and I certainly don't intend being one of them!'
Abbie smiled without humour. 'I hear it's a rather magnificent four-poster.'
'I wouldn't know,' he returned savagely.
'No,' Abbie sighed, some of her tension seeming to leave her, 'I can see that you don't.' She sank down gracefully into one of the armchairs, suddenly looking small and vulnerable in its padded plushness. 'And it must be easy to see that there is no love lost between Daniel's eldest daughter and myself,' she added evenly.
He nodded. 'And I understand exactly why you feel the way you do.'
Abbie became very still, her eyes suddenly huge in the paleness of her face. 'How do you—? I can believe a lot of things of Cathy,' she confessed. 'But not that. I can't believe she told you how she tried to take Charlie away from me.' She shook her head. 'Cathy—'
'Didn't tell me,' Jarrett cut in softly, seeing the pained memories of that time in the darkness of Abbie's eyes.
She looked at him searchingly. 'Another reliable source, Jarrett?' she finally said slowly, once again on her guard.
'Loyal and loving friends doing everything they could to protect you—especially from me!' he explained ruefully.
She frowned at him, her frown turning to dismay as she realised exactly which friends he was referring to. 'I see,' she said, her expression pained.
'I can see that you don't,' he denied impatiently, moving down on his haunches beside the chair she sat in. 'Abbie, Alison and Stephen—'
'Let me down,' she finished dazedly. 'I never thought Alison would— We've been friends for such a long time—good friends, I thought—'
"They're both still your friend, Abbie,' Jarrett insisted forcefully.
‘They only wanted me to understand why you keep people at a distance, why you employ people like Tony—' He broke off as she suddenly pushed past him to stand up. 'Abbie...?'
'I have to go,' she muttered, looking about her distractedly for somewhere to put her glass down.
'Abbie—'
'I have to go!' she repeated in an anguished voice. 'I have to go,' she said dully.
'Not like this.' Jarrett straightened, taking the glass out of her trembling fingers and putting it down beside his own on the coffee-table.
'How else do you want me to go?' she choked emotionally, tears swimming in her eyes as she looked up at him. 'What else is it you want to know, Jarrett? What else did Alison and Stephen tell you?' she went on brokenly. 'Did they tell you about my marriage to Daniel, too? Did they tell you that I hated being married to him? That for five years I endured being his wife, his sexual plaything? Did they—?'
'Don't do this to yourself, Abbie,' Jarrett groaned protestingly, grasping the tops of her arms.
These were questions he had wanted answers to, but not at this price, never at the pain it was causing Abbie to recall it. And that pain was immense. Gone was that coldly aloof woman, and in her place was a trembling child, a child who, unlike Charlie, had no one to protect her.
He wanted to protect her, to take away all that hurt and suffering, but at the same time he knew he was helping cause it. Abbie obviously managed to survive, emotionally, by burying all of this somewhere deep inside her where it could never be touched, need never be looked at But he had unwittingly made her do both those things. The result stripped her of all defences.
'Don't, Abbie,' he groaned again, gathering her close into his arms, holding her there, wanting to keep her there until he had wiped away all the pain. 'I don't want to know, don't need to know!' And he didn't.
This woman was unlike anyone he had ever met before. Or was ever likely to meet again. And he didn't want anyone ever to be able to hurt her again. Including himself.
His hands moved so that he cradled each side of her beautiful face, a face wet with tears, tears he had caused to fall. He gently kissed those tears away, tasting their salt, feeling the way Abbie trembled against him, sensing that she was pulling away from him, that he had crossed over another line of defence. And he didn't want her to have defences against him!
'I won't hurt you, Abbie,' he assured her tenderly. 'I don't ever want to hurt you.'
Pained violet-blue eyes looked up into his. 'Then leave me alone, Jarrett,' she pleaded. 'Stay away from me!'
'Let you go back into your ivory tower?' He shook his head in answer to his own question. 'You don't belong there, Abbie. You're warm, and caring, a beautiful woman—'
'I'm just another notch you want to add to your bedpost,' she returned cynically. 'I was a virgin when I married Daniel, Jarrett. There has been no one in my life since he died. And my bedposts are brass. They have no notches on!'
He had already guessed that she hadn't been involved with anyone after her marriage, but it came as something of a surprise to him that she had been untouched when die married. The physical side of her marriage to Daniel Sutherland had not been a happy one from what she had said...
'It doesn't always have to be like your marriage, Abbie,' he told her gently. 'Lovemaking should be something beautiful, shared between two people who care about each other, who want to give and receive pleasure.'
She met his gaze unflinchingly. 'Has it ever been like that for you, Jarrett?' she said pointedly.
He felt as if she had reached out and slapped him. Sex was something he enjoyed, and obviously it was more enjoyable for him if his bed partner found pleasure too. But he knew that wasn't what Abbie was asking him...
'I can tell by your expression that it hasn't,' she continued, moving away from him. 'The cynic preaching to the unconvincible. I'm sure you're right, Jarrett, otherwise there would be no relationships, and certainly no marriages. But for some people it can't be that way—'
'Not you, Abbie,' he cut in firmly. 'I don't believe it'
'Why?' She raised dark brows, back under control again now. 'Because of the way I look?' She dismissed her model figure and classically beautiful features. 'That's no proof of anything, Jarrett,' she added sadly.
'But if you never give it a chance—'
'I gave it a chance!' she put in vehemently. 'Do you think I wanted my marriage to be like that?' Her eyes sparkled with anger now rather than tears. 'Of course I didn't,' she snapped. 'It just happened.'
Jarrett's mouth tightened. 'If Daniel Sutherland was anywhere near as self-interested as his children, then I'm not surprised!'
Her head rose, her expression becoming blank.
'I don't want to talk about Daniel. Or his children. In fact—' she turned to pick up her bag '—I don't believe we have anything more to say to each other.'
She was leaving. Obviously with the intention of never seeing him again.
He didn't want that to happen. He had to see her again!
Why?
He instantly recoiled from answering that, even to himself. And he had never had any difficulty in being honest with himself...
Why had he chased after her from Canada? Why had a been so important that he see her again? And why, tonight, when Cathy had revealed their acquaintance to Abbie, had he been so desperate that she wouldn't walk out on him?
To Woo A Wife Page 13