To Woo A Wife

by Carole Mortimer

  His meaning was quite clear, and Abbie felt the angry colour burning in her cheeks. Did he really think—?

  After all she had told him about herself, about her mar­riage, did he really believe that she and Jonathan—?

  'Actually, no.' Jonathan was the one to answer him in a clear voice as he slowly rose to his feet. 'But then, Charlie was so pleased to meet me, I don't think Abbie had time to be surprised. I thought you were in a meeting this afternoon?'

  'And I thought, until I saw your car outside, you were going through the final draft of a contract,' Jarrett re­turned hardly.

  'All done, and sitting on your desk awaiting your in­spection,' Jonathan assured him lightly.

  Jarrett's mouth twisted. 'And so you thought you would just pay Abbie a call?'

  'Why not?' His brother sounded casual. 'You didn't mention you were coming here, either,' he reasoned.

  Jarrett didn't look in the mood to be reasoned with! 'It appears my decision to visit was as spontaneous as yours!' he barked.

  'Doesn't it?' Jonathan nodded happily, not at all both­ered by his older brother's obvious aggression. In fact, he seemed to be enjoying it!

  Like two little boys, Abbie decided, one of them angry because he thought the other one had usurped his toy. Only she wasn't a toy, and she belonged to neither of these two men!

  'I am rather busy,' she told them both pointedly.

  'Not too busy for tea, it seems,' Jarrett rasped as he looked at their used cups.

  "The chink's getting bigger, Jarrett,' Jonathan warned softly. 'Careful now, or else some of the flesh and blood may begin to show, and then we'll all know you're hu­man, after all!'

  It was as well there was obviously a strong bond of brotherly love between these two men, otherwise Jonathan would never have dared to talk to Jarrett in this way. Even so, it was obvious to Abbie that Jarrett was far from pleased at the taunt. As was borne out by his next comment!

  'Oh, shut up, Jonathan!' His patience had completely gone now. 'If you have nothing of any relevance to say, I suggest you don't say anything at all!'

  'Don't look so worried, Abbie,' Jonathan said breezily at her obvious concern. 'Jarrett's talked to Jordan and me like this since we were little kids.'

  'And a lot of good it did me!' Jarrett scorned. 'Both of you still go your own sweet way—as evidenced by today. Just out of interest, Jonathan, what the hell are you doing here?' he demanded.

  'The same as you, probably,' his brother returned un­helpfully.

  Jarrett was not amused. 'And what, precisely, might that be?'

  'Business, of course,' Jonathan announced airily. 'I called to see if Abbie was having any problems with the contract we sent to her last week. But now that the boss is here I'm quite happy to leave you to deal with any problems that Abbie might have!'

  With that double entendre left hanging in the air, and a light kiss placed on one of Abbie's burning cheeks, he exited the room, and presumably the house!

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Damn Jonathan, Jarrett inwardly cursed, not for the first time regretting the easy familiarity with people that he had encouraged in both his brothers. Never be in fear, or awe, of anyone, he had taught them. Perhaps he should have made it clearer that didn't include him!

  God, Abbie looked good, utterly beautiful in the deep blue cashmere sweater and a navy fitted skirt, her legs long and tanned. Only her hair was wrong; he much preferred it loose down her spine.

  Left alone, the two of them simply stared at each other. Jarrett because he was hungry for the sight of her, Abbie because he could see she was still wary of him.

  The last week had been hell as far as Jarrett was con­cerned, each successive twenty-four hours more difficult to get through than the last. And it wasn't that he hadn't tried to make it easy on himself, had invited out—on separate occasions, of course!—two of the women he had always, in the past, enjoyed spending time with.

  Delia was hot chocolate cake, lush and seductive, usu­ally delicious and Mandy was lemon sorbet, light and refreshing, equally delicious in her own way. Delia had been as warm and wonderful as ever, and Mandy as sharp and witty, but his heart hadn't been in either eve­ning, and he had ended up going home alone shortly after midnight on both evenings, memories of baked Alaska preventing him from even escaping into the oblivion of sleep. He had found himself cursing the existence of the divine Abbie Sutherland on more than one occasion!

  Finally, to the extent that he had decided, this morn­ing, in fact, the only way to deal with this particular craving was to completely gorge himself on it until, as Abbie had said herself, he became nauseous. Which was what he was doing here now. Only to find his damned brother already here, and obviously chatting quite ami­ably with the woman he, Jarrett, wanted!

  He looked across at her with deeply golden eyes. 'Do you have any problems, Abbie?' he asked, wishing she had felt half the hunger for him this last week that he had felt for her. And knowing that it wasn't so... Abbie didn't need anyone, least of all him!

  'None that I can think of, Jarrett, no,' she returned. ‘We did have a minor difficulty with one of the taps in the lower—'

  'I meant with the contract,' he cut in gratingly; her mockery, feeling as raw as he did, was the last thing he wanted!

  To his surprise, Abbie smiled. 'I'm well aware of what you meant, Jarrett. Can I get you some tea?' she offered politely.

  Politeness; was mat what their relationship had de­teriorated to? Politeness was reserved for respect of the elderly, for complete strangers—or people you wanted to keep at a distance... ? Why would Abbie want to keep him at a distance? Perhaps she wasn't quite as immune to the awareness between them as she pretended to be! What did he have to lose?

  He met her gaze steadily for several moments, reas­sured slightly by the fact mat she was the one to look away. 'I would rather we just went to bed,' he told her softly.

  She looked stunned by the directness of his statement. And then her cheeks coloured fiery-red. 'I—'

  'Don't say no straight away, Abbie.' He moved closer to her. "There's something between the two of us. I don't know what it is—'

  'An over-vivid imagination on your part, by the sound of it!' she scoffed, looking away.

  'Don't turn away from me, Abbie,' he rasped, reach­ing out to grasp her arms, his restraint—what little he had left after a frustrating and sleepless week!—having vanished completely. 'I'm not in the mood for games!'

  She looked up at him with defiant violet-blue eyes. 'What are you in the mood for, Jarrett?' she challenged. 'A few hours' romp in bed, and then move on to the next woman?' She shook her head. 'I've told you—ad nauseum!—that I don't have affairs.'

  'This may not be just an affair,' he grated. 'But if we don't try, we'll never know,' he pleaded persuasively.

  'Does that line usually work?' she taunted.

  'This isn't a "line", damn it!' His voice rose angrily. 'I'm telling you how I feel. And—'

  'And I'm telling you I don't want to know how you feel!' she returned cuttingly. But Jarrett was sure, when he looked into her eyes, that he could see tears glistening there... 'I like my life the way it is—'

  'I don't believe you,' he said quietly, those tears giv­ing him encouragement, hope.

  'Jarrett—'

  'I—don't—believe—you—Abbie,' he repeated firm­ly, his arms moving about the slenderness of her waist as he pulled her into the warmth of his body.

  He needed this, had hungered for it, and he couldn't take no for an answer. Maybe Abbie would hate him for it. But maybe she wouldn't...

  He kissed her. It was almost like going to heaven, to feel her soft and pliant in his arms, to feel the response of her mouth against his. And she was responding, he realised with increasing exhilaration. If this was heaven, then he just wanted to stay here, to lose himself in Abbie's enveloping warmth. It was—

  Abbie wrenched her mouth away from his, those tears he had seen glistening in her eyes earlier now cascading down her che
eks. 'I can't do this, Jarrett,' she choked, her eyes bruised pools of deep purple.

  He still held onto her, refused to let her go completely. 'You were doing just fine,' he assured her huskily.

  She avoided his gaze, staring down at the carpet at their feet. 'I'm not, Jarrett. I can't—I don't— There's been no one in my life since Daniel!'

  'You already told me that,' he said gently. But she was only twenty-seven, for God's sake, couldn't mean to spend the rest of her life alone like this.

  She looked up at him with eyes so full of pain he almost flinched at all that concentrated raw emotion. 'I hated being married,' she said flatly.

  His mouth twisted. 'We both know I'm not asking you to marry me, Abbie.'

  'We both know you're being deliberately obtuse!' She wrenched away from him, putting several feet between them.

  'No, I'm not, Abbie,' he assured her. 'Hell, I'm not completely insensitive, you know. I realise that when you say you hated being married what you really mean is that you hated going to bed with your husband!'

  'Yes...!' She shuddered with revulsion, her arms wrapped about herself, as if to ward off an unwanted touch.

  'That doesn't mean you'll hate making love with me,' he persisted, keeping his distance, accepting that in her present frame of mind she was likely to run if he made any overt moves towards her. And would keep on run­ning...

  She drew in a ragged breath. 'I don't want to find out!'

  This went so much deeper than simply an unhappy marriage. A lot of people had those, if the statistics— and his own parents' marriage!—were anything to go by. But those people survived. His own father had suf­fered through almost twenty years of living with a wife who was consistently unfaithful to him, and yet he had remarried, was happy in that second marriage. No, it wasn't marriage Abbie had a problem with, it was the physical intimacy that went along with the relation­ship...

  'Why did you marry him, Abbie?'

  She gave him a startled look. 'What?'

  Jarrett smiled at her reassuringly. 'Let's sit down— Please, Abbie,' he prompted quietly as she automatically went to refuse. 'I have no intention of leaving yet' He sat down in one of the armchairs. 'So we may as well be comfortable.'

  From her troubled expression she obviously wasn't happy with his delay in leaving, but she did sit down— noticeably in the armchair as far away from his as it could be! That didn't matter; at the moment it was more important that he talk to her. Which was something, he realised, he had never felt the need to do with a woman before!

  'Why, Abbie?' he prompted after the silence had stretched between them for several long, tension-filled minutes.

  She raised her head. 'Because he asked me to,' she bit out defiantly.

  Jarrett smiled. 'I'm sure he was far from the first man to do that!'

  She shrugged. 'But Daniel was rich and powerful. Very rich, in fact, and so much older than me.'

  Jarrett had stiffened instinctively at her admission that she had married a man with money. But that last ad­mission gave the previous one a hollowness that simply didn't ring true. 'He was still in his fifties when he died, Abbie,' he reminded her dryly, sure now she was delib­erately trying to alienate him with her implication of being interested in Daniel Sutherland's money.

  She shrugged, looking down at her linked hands. 'He was ill for some time before he died.'

  'How long?'

  'Jarrett—'

  'How long, Abbie?' he repeated firmly. ‘I’m sure you can remember; it isn't that long ago!'

  There were angry spots of colour in her cheeks as she glared at him. 'I'm sure Cathy was only too willing to tell you what a gold-digger I am—'

  ‘I’m not interested in Cathy Sutherland's opinion— about anything!' he said scornfully.

  'But you and she are such good friends—'

  'This isn't going to work, Abbie,' he cut in, not fooled for a minute by her effort to change the subject. 'You know damn well that Cathy and I aren't friends. I admit she was useful for a while, and I'm not particularly proud of my part in that deception, but the woman can go to hell as far as I'm concerned!'

  Abbie's lips curved. 'I have no doubt that one day she will!'

  'How long was your husband ill before he died, Abbie?' Jarrett persisted.

  Her mouth set into a stubborn line. 'I don't see what that has to do with—'

  'Abbie’

  Her eyes flashed deeply purple as she glared at him again. 'Don't shout at me!' she snapped angrily. 'I've already told you that I don't like to be shouted at.'

  "Then—answer—the—damned—question,' he bit out in a controlled voice. She was right; she had warned him about shouting at her. If only she weren't so damned infuriating! Usually you couldn't stop a woman from talking; this one was like a clam!

  'Daniel was ill for several months before he died,' she finally answered him.

  'And you were married for how long? Five years.' He answered his own question. 'So he wasn't ill when you married him. On the surmise of three score years and ten, Daniel Sutherland had another seventeen years to live, at least, when you married him.'

  Jarrett looked across at her with assessing eyes. 'That doesn't exactly fit in with the picture you're trying to give me of your having married an old man so that when he died you would inherit his money! Besides,' he added softly, 'you didn't inherit it, did you? Did you love him when you married him?'

  'Jarrett, will you just let this go—?'

  'I can't, Abbie,' he told her bluntly. 'It's too impor­tant.'

  She swallowed hard. 'No, I didn't love Daniel when I married him,' she admitted with a shuddering sigh.

  'So, you didn't love him. You hated being married to him. And you didn't want his money.' They were all statements, which allowed Jarrett time to formulate his thoughts. Suddenly the answer came to him...

  'Who were you protecting, Abbie?' he guessed shrewdly. 'And why?'

  The angry colour faded from her cheeks. In fact, all colour faded from her face, leaving her pale and hollow-eyed, suddenly very young and vulnerable, reminding Jarrett all too forcibly that she was ten years younger than him. And, like him, she had suffered a lot. 'Who, Abbie?' He pushed her again. 'And why?' She stared at him. Just stared at him. Seeming trans­fixed by the question.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Abbie couldn't move. She felt mesmerised, glued to her chair.

  How could Jarrett—? How did he—? What—?

  She cleared her swollen throat. "This doesn't have anything to do with you, Jarrett,' she finally managed to say, surprised she could speak at all.

  No one had ever asked her before the reasons why she had married Daniel, let alone jumped two steps ahead and come up with the conclusion she must have been protecting someone. Most people, she was sure, had assumed, as Daniel's children had, that she had mar­ried Daniel for his money. Until a few moments ago, she had thought Jarrett believed that too..

  'You have something to do with me, Abbie,' he re­plied firmly. 'I want you in my life now, and your past, it seems, is preventing any future for the two of us.'

  The only 'future' he had in mind for them was an affair, until his craving for baked Alaska was well and truly satiated!

  'We have no future, Jarrett. And the answers to your questions will make no difference to that,' she assured him frostily.

  'We'll see,' he returned enigmatically.

  She gave a heavy sigh. Jarrett wasn't going to be moved until she had answered his questions. Oh, she knew she could always have Tony escort him from the house, but in the long run what would be the point in doing that? Jarrett was bloody-minded enough just to keep corning back!

  She closed her eyes, drawing on the inner strength she had needed so much the last seven years. 'My father worked for Daniel seven years ago,' she began tone-lessly. 'He was Daniel's chief accountant' She didn't look at Jarrett as she spoke, staring down unseeingly at the carpet at her feet. 'My father, very foolishly, decided to—borrow some of Daniel's money for some i
nvest­ments of his own.' She paused. 'Daniel found out about it'

  'I see,' Jarrett said slowly.

  'My father wasn't a bad man.' She quickly defended Mm, sitting forward in her chair.

  Jarrett nodded, his expression bland. 'Just very fool­ish, as you've already said. And men like Daniel Sutherland do not suffer fools gladly!'

  'No,' she acknowledged shakily.

  'So what was the deal?' Jarrett probed. 'Marriage to him in exchange for not prosecuting your father?'

  That was exactly the deal Daniel had offered her! She had been absolutely horrified, both by her father's em­bezzlement and Daniel's outrageous solution to the prob­lem.