by Penny Jordan
As he leaned over her she could smell the faint male tang of his sweat, and unconsciously she shifted her weight so that she could move back from it. She disliked the evidence of such male sexuality, and even more she disliked the fact that she should be aware of it, backing away as nervously as a highly strung horse.
‘What the devil?’
She watched his eyebrows draw together in a frown, his mouth indenting with irritation.
‘I wasn’t going to touch you.’
He said it in a way that left her in no doubt of his distaste of such an action, and irrationally his vehemence stung. Was she so unattractive then that a stranger was repelled by her?
‘Why are you looking for a husband?’
The abruptness of his question when she thought they had nothing left to say to one another made her stammer slightly and hesitate before replying, but she had nothing to hide, no reason not to tell him the truth, so she did so, briefly explaining her concern over her sister’s mental and physical state, as well as lightly touching on David’s irritating manner towards her, but not at this stage mentioning her book.
‘So, it’s for your sister’s sake, rather than any desire to get married, then, is it?’
Scorn touched her eyes shadowing them to dark gold. ‘I would hardly marry for any other reason,’ she told him bluntly. ‘Marriage in my view is a form of self-inflicted torment, which these days is no longer necessary. In the past the only reason women have needed to marry is that they haven’t had the freedom or the financial strength to make any other decision. Now it’s being proved that a woman doesn’t need a man to support her or her children. Why should she tie herself down in a relationship that almost always loads the dice in the man’s favour?’
His eyebrows shot up, his mouth hardening even further as he demanded harshly, ‘But what about those children, don’t they have the right to have two parents to care for them?’
Refusing to let herself get annoyed, Jessica took her time in replying. ‘Where they’ve been born into a marriage, yes, I agree that those children do need the support and care of both parents, but where a woman has elected to bear and raise her child on her own, then no.’
‘You’re aware that I have two children?’
He was still frowning and she said quietly, ‘Yes.’
‘And despite all you’ve just said you’d still be prepared to marry a man who had two dependent children—children moreover who are in need of considerable emotional support and attention?’
‘I’m the child of a broken marriage myself,’ Jessica told him slowly. ‘I’m also a trained psychologist.’ At any other time the amazement in his eyes would have amused her, but now she merely added, ‘I have already written two books on the various aspects of human relationships, and at present I’m working on a third. Initially when I read your…that is your sister’s letter, it struck me that I might be able to help your children.’
‘Very noble of you.’ He was practically sneering at her and suddenly she lost her temper, and said fiercely, ‘Look, I can see I’m wasting my time even trying to talk to you. I’ve explained to you why I want to get married, and I’ll go further and tell you that any marriage I do contract will not be with a man labouring under the burden of resentment and bitterness that you’re obviously carrying. What I want is a civilised relationship with someone who accepts marriage as a business arrangement from which both parties derive certain benefits and forgo certain others.’
‘Oh, really? And what would be the benefits you would be willing to forgo? Sharing your body with a lover because you’d have a husband to share it with instead?’
His tone was so deeply derisory that it was seconds before she could speak. When she did an angry flush lay across her cheekbones, her eyes deeply gold.
‘Certainly not,’ she told him crisply. ‘I have no lover, nor would I expect to find one in my husband. Far from it.’ She broke off, conscious that she had said too much, but to her surprise instead of taunting her further he was looking at her thoughtfully.
‘I see.’
Quite what he did see, Jessica did not know.
‘So you’re talking about a platonic marriage, then, one which presumably could be set aside by mutual arrangement when it was no longer viable.’
‘Yes, that’s exactly what I had in mind,’ she agreed stiffly.
‘You realise that in my case, or rather in my sons’, it could be several years before any such marriage could be dissolved.’
She did, and that was something which had worried her considerably initially.
‘Yes, but provided you were prepared to allow me to continue with my career unhindered, our lives running side by side but separately, I would be quite willing to continue with the relationship for as long as was needful.’
‘That could be for quite a long time. You’re young, only twenty-six. What happens if you fall in love?’
He was watching her very carefully now and Jessica knew that much hung on her response to this question. It was ridiculous that she should have this strange desire to convince him that she was a suitable candidate for the position as his wife, but she refused to dwell on her feelings, merely saying coolly. ‘That will never happen. You see…’ she let her eyes meet his, gold tangling with blue, ‘I do not happen to believe in ‘‘falling in love’’. It’s a euphemism, used at best to describe the emotional side of a strong physical desire for someone, and at worst as a crutch for the self-deluded.’
He looked at her for a long time and then said softly, ‘Tell me, have you ever had a lover?’
Jessica didn’t hesitate, knowing that she must convince him that it was not from any virginal fear of sex that she shrank from the commitment of marriage. Quite truthfully, she told him that she had and watched the way he controlled his reaction to her response, without adding that she had found it a singularly uninspiring experience and one which she had not bothered to repeat once that frail relationship had fizzled out, unable to survive the strain of their mutual disappointment in the physical expression of their desire.
Since then she had found it quite easy to rebuff any men who approached her sexually and privately she considered herself to be possessed of a rather low sex-drive, but that was not something she was going to impart to him. For one thing it was something it was not necessary for him to know, and for another… Mentally she dwelt on the sheer masculinity of the length and breadth of him and acknowledged that unlike hers, his physical experience was probably both vast and pleasurable.
It came as something of a shock therefore to hear him saying equably, ‘Well, I hope you don’t expect to find another in me. The one thing I don’t want from marriage is sex.’
It was obvious from the way he was looking at her that she had not managed to conceal her astonishment as well as she had thought.
‘And no, I don’t have a lover,’ he added harshly, ‘and neither do I want one. To put it bluntly, the effects of my wife’s death are such that I doubt if emotionally I am capable of making love. Well,’ he challenged, in the silence that had fallen, ‘do you still feel you want to marry me?’
‘Yes, provided I can get on with the children.’ How deeply he must have loved his wife! She was surprised to discover how unacceptable she found that knowledge.
It was not the answer she had intended to give at all, and she could hardly understand why she had given it. Plainly he was equally astonished. To cover up her own inner shock she added crisply, ‘Your sexual prowess or lack of it is of no interest to me. All I want from you is…’
‘The protection of my name as your husband. Yes, yes, you’ve already told me that.’
He really was the most exasperating, rude man. Jessica fumed on the point of whirling round and walking out on him, when they both heard the sound of a car outside.
She watched him stride over to the window, his lean body moving with a totally unexpected grace.
‘My sister,’ he told Jessica flatly. ‘She’s got the boys with her. Do you want to stay and meet
them?’
Tacit acceptance of the role she might be going to play in their lives? Jessica didn’t know, but suddenly she no longer wanted to leave.
‘Too late, they’re on their way in.’
The door opened to admit a tall dark woman with strained blue eyes which brightened immediately she saw Jessica, although she was careful to pretend that she had no idea who she was or what she was doing here, Jessica noted, watching her.
‘You can stop the theatricals, Justine,’ the hard flat male voice instructed. ‘She knows it was all your idea.’
‘Honestly, Lyle.’ Impatience edged up under the wryly affectionate response.
So his name was Lyle. Unusual, but she quite liked it.
‘I’d better introduce myself. I’m Justine Wheeler, Lyle’s sister.’
‘And matchmaker extraordinaire,’ Lyle supplemented drily, breaking off as he realised the two boys were watching sullenly from the doorway.
‘Come on in, you two.’
Turning to watch them Jessica recognised in their faces all the resentment and misery that had dogged her own teenage years. How well she could remember how fear and pain was blocked out with defiance and silence.
‘Stuart, James, say hello to…’
‘Jessica,’ Jessica supplied for Justine, as she made the introductions. She made no attempt to touch or talk to the boys, but subtly let them know that she was aware of their presence, including them in her comments to Justine about her journey and the state of Lyle’s garden.
It was acutely painful to watch their cautious approach to her. They were so frightened of being hurt that they instinctively recoiled from anything they themselves did not originate.
It was the elder one who spoke to her first, Stuart. ‘Is that your car?’ he demanded to know in a tone almost as truculent as that of his father, and watching the frown creasing the latter’s forehead Jessica had to fight against an absurd desire to protect the child from his father’s wrath.
‘Yes, it is, do you like it?’
She watched him nod his head, and then told him that she had only recently bought it. ‘The only thing is I can’t manage to fathom out the seat-adjustment mechanism.’
She aimed the comment at the gathering in general, holding her breath until Stuart said offhandedly, ‘I could try and work it for you.’
‘Could you?’ She accepted his offer as casually as he had made it. ‘Okay, then.’
She didn’t even look as both of them darted out of the room, and she certainly didn’t turn round to see what they were doing when she heard the car door open, but she was standing in front of a mirror which gave her a pretty clear view of the interior of her precious car—and what was going on inside it.
‘That was pretty clever,’ Justine admired. ‘You seem to have the right touch.’
‘She ought to have. She’s a damned psychologist,’ Lyle muttered, giving his sister a look which seemed to say, ‘Now look what you’ve landed me with.’
‘The boys will be back shortly,’ Jessica interrupted calmly. ‘I can tell you now that I’m prepared to marry you with the provisos we’ve already discussed. The rest is up to you. I’ll leave it to you to get in touch with me if you feel you want to take this any further.’ She handed him one of her cards, and composed her face into an appreciative smile as both children trooped back in and Stuart loftily announced that it was quite simple to move the seat, and that he would show her how before she left.
CHAPTER THREE
BY WEDNESDAY of the following week Jessica had convinced herself that she was not going to hear from Lyle, and what was more she couldn’t understand why she should even want to. He was the most difficult, unappealing man she had ever come across, and marriage to him would be no sinecure. Which made it all the more startling when he did ring late on Thursday evening, that she should feel such a thrill of excitement at hearing his voice, less truculent than she remembered but still slightly abrasive, as he told her that having thought over everything he would like to go ahead with their marriage, provided she was still agreeable.
She was tempted to prevaricate and make him wait, but only that morning she had had another hysterical telephone call from Andrea and so instead she said calmly that she was.
‘Fine, that only leaves us to organise dates. As far as I’m concerned the sooner it’s done the better. School holidays start next week, and I’ll need you here to take charge of the kids.’
Stifling half-hysterical laughter, Jessica agreed calmly that she could see the necessity for haste.
‘I’ll make all the arrangements and then get in touch with you. Are there any dates you specifically want me to avoid?’
Having checked her diary and confirmed that there were not, Jessica thanked him politely for his call and said goodbye. It was like living in a dream, she reflected when she had done so; and hardly seemed at all real. It was impossible to believe that by this time next week she might actually be married. But that was what she had agreed to do, and she had her own arrangements to make. She would have to find a tenant for her flat; but that would not be a problem, she knew. And then there was her work…
By Sunday she had done everything there was to do. In the morning Lyle rang, his voice flat and emotionless as he told her that he had arranged the ceremony for two o’clock on Monday afternoon.
That meant she would have to tell Andrea today, Jessica reflected when she had replaced the receiver.
Not quite sure how well she would be able to carry off the role of bride-to-be in her sister’s presence, she took the cowardly way out and telephoned her.
The spate of questions that followed her bald announcement finally culminated in a stunned, ‘Married? You? I can hardly believe it, Jess. Why?’
She could have said, because you told me it was the only way you would accept that I’m not having an affair with your husband, but somehow she managed to restrain herself, and said instead, ‘Oh, for all the usual reasons.’
‘But you’ve not said a word…’
‘Well, there wasn’t much point. We’ve only just made up our minds.’
‘I suppose you met him when you were doing the research for your book,’ Andrea commented. ‘But really, you might have told me, I am your sister, your closest living relative since Mum and Dad divorced.’
‘I couldn’t say anything because I wasn’t sure how…how serious Lyle was. He has two children from his first marriage and…’
‘He was worried about them accepting you, I suppose. God, Jess, I can’t imagine you with a couple of stepsons. How old are they?’
Jessica obligingly told her, adding as casually as she could that since the school holidays were about to start she and Lyle had decided to get married as quickly and as quietly as they could.
‘When?’ Andrea demanded.
Taking a deep breath Jessica told her.
‘Tomorrow? Are you serious?’
By the time she had managed to convince her sister that she was serious, and that she was not out of her mind, Jessica was feeling limply exhausted. She was also beginning to wonder if she were not additionally slightly crazy. Surely there had to be an easier way to convince her sister that she wasn’t the remotest bit interested in her husband? But even as the thought formed, she had a mental picture of two solemn little faces watching her drive away, two pairs of hazel eyes regarding her departure with a stoicism and an indifference that she well remembered from her own childhood. They were so vulnerable, they needed her. What child wouldn’t with a father like theirs? Aggressive, domineering, totally incapable, or so it seemed, of understanding his children’s pain.
No doubt he had never really wanted them. She could still remember her own pain when she realised that her father loved his girlfriend more than he loved Andrea and herself.
She deliberately kept herself busy for the rest of the day, filling boxes and cases with her belongings, exhausting herself to the point where by nine o’clock all she wanted to do was have a bath and crawl into bed. W
hen the doorbell went her heart leaped like a stranded fish, her pulse-rate increasing threateningly, until she opened the door and discovered Justine standing there.
Why on earth had she thought her caller might be Lyle? And why was she so disappointed that it was not?
‘Sorry to barge in on you like this,’ Justine apologised, following her inside, ‘but I thought I’d come and have a chat with you without Lyle around.’
‘Umm, this is lovely.’ She made a face as she glanced round Jessica’s small sitting-room. ‘Lyle doesn’t seem to have the faintest idea about décor. You’ll have to take him in hand there. Despite the shabby furnishings and that awful car, he isn’t a poor man by any means.’
‘I’m not marrying him for financial reasons,’ Jessica told her calmly.
‘No, I know. He’s told me all about your sister and her husband.’ She smiled rather uncertainly at Jessica. ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I wouldn’t give him any peace until he told me.’
‘Just like you didn’t until he agreed to see me,’ Jessica suggested calmly.
Justine had the grace to blush. ‘I know it seems very high-handed of me, but you have to understand that I’ve been at my wits’ end, especially where the boys are concerned. They don’t like me, and I must confess after what they tried to do to Peter, I’m not too keen on them, but I do feel sorry for them, poor little scraps.’
‘Yes, it can’t be very pleasant, knowing that your father doesn’t want you,’ Jessica agreed drily.
‘What?’ Justine had been staring out of the window and now she spun round, her eyes widening. She really was ridiculously like her brother as far as looks went, Jessica thought absently, but fortunately she lacked his hard, cutting edge. ‘Where on earth did you get that idea?’ she demanded indignantly, causing Jessica to revise her opinion slightly. ‘Lyle adores them both. It’s just that they can’t or won’t respond to him. It tore him apart when he and Heather divorced and she demanded that he give up all his rights to them. Heather was the one who didn’t want children, she didn’t even want to marry Lyle in the first place. When she found she was pregnant she was furious; she wanted to get an abortion, but Lyle refused to help her and insisted instead that they got married.’ She sighed and added, ‘I know he must seem a terrible grouch, but like all intelligent men who can’t bear to admit that their intelligence wasn’t enough to prevent them from the folly of falling in love with the wrong person, he’s now determined to treat our sex with the utmost suspicion. It would break my heart if I let it. Sometimes I can hardly believe how much he’s changed.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘And of course he still blames himself for Heather’s death.’ She saw Jessica’s expression and explained quickly what had happened to her sister-in-law.