The City-Girl Bride

by Penny Jordan

  Without giving anything away she had started to ask her grandmother about the early years of her marriage, hoping to glean from her conversation information which she could use to bring those special days back to life for her, to help banish some of the unhappiness she was now feeling.

  Her mention of a favourite rose of her grandfather’s had sent Maggie on a mission to acquire that same rose for the garden of the Dower House. Predictably it had been Gayle who had discovered a potential source of the rose for her, tracking down a company who specialised in growing traditional varieties. Maggie had gone to visit the company herself, to explain just why it was so important to her to obtain this particular rose, and to her joy they had confirmed that they were able to supply her with it, but had gone on to add that it would be ‘bare root stock’, explaining that this meant it would need to be planted immediately on delivery.

  Maggie would have to wait until her grandmother had moved into the Dower House and planting conditions were right before sending it to her. However, in lieu of an actual plant, they had provided Maggie with a gift voucher inscribed with the name of the rose plus a brief history of it, to give to her grandmother.

  Maggie had also borrowed a photograph of her grandfather at the age he had been when her grandparents had lived at the Dower House and had it secretly copied. She had hoped to be able to have her grandfather’s image superimposed on a modern-day photograph of the Dower House, but this plan had to be put on hold until she had a response from Finn to her request for some photographs.

  Gayle’s helpful input into her plans had confirmed Maggie’s view that her assistant was well deserving of the very generous bonus that Maggie was planning to surprise her with as an extra special ‘thank you’ for her hard work during the year.

  It had shocked her, though, following Maggie’s return to work, to hear Gayle commenting thoughtfully that she felt that Maggie had changed.

  ‘Changed…in what way?’ Maggie had demanded immediately.

  ‘I’m not sure,’ Gayle had admitted. ‘It’s just that you seem different somehow, less…driven,’ she had explained semi-apologetically.

  ‘Driven?’ Maggie had tried not to look as taken aback as she’d felt. She had certainly always prided herself on her dedication to her career, but she did not find it complimentary to be described as ‘driven’. But neither did she enjoy discovering that she was spending far too much time staring unhappily into space, fighting not to allow Finn to steal into her thoughts.

  She had her career, her friends, her grandmother. Her plans. Surely she wasn’t going to allow herself to feel that these were no longer enough for her just because…Just because what? Just because Finn didn’t want her…because Finn didn’t love her?

  Maggie frowned as she reached for her coat. This evening she was dining with a client who wanted to discuss a possible new venture with her.

  Bella Jensen was a feisty forty-something divorcee who had built up her small and extremely successful IT personnel business following the break-up of her marriage. She had had, as she had gleefully told Maggie, the very enjoyable pleasure of being approached by her ex-husband’s company, who had come to her cap in hand to beg her to work under contract for them since, without the IT skills she had learned as the company had grown, they were lost.

  Her husband had sold the small business they had built up together just prior to their break-up, brokering an excellent deal for himself, plus large consultancy fees, and claiming that Bella’s contribution to the business had been negligible. She had been delighted—not just to be able to prove him wrong, but to have her importance to their business recognised publicly in a professional and financial manner.

  From that experience she had gone on to recognise a growing need for skilled IT staff to work on a contract basis in various mainstream industries, and she had used Maggie’s skills in the past to coax highly trained people onto her books.

  Maggie liked her, and normally she would have been looking forward to spending an evening in her company. But right now she seemed to have lost the ability to enjoy anything. Right now it felt as though the whole of her life, not just the present but the future as well, had been blighted—and why?

  Did she really need to ask herself that?

  It was hard for her to fight against seeing in Finn’s rejection of her an echo of her parents’ earlier failure to truly love her. But that was to think of herself as a victim, and there was no way she was ever going to let herself be that.

  Predictably, Bella had chosen one of London’s current crop of ‘hot’ eateries for them to have dinner in—the restaurant in the kind of superb hotel that people spoke about in hushed, awed voices.

  ‘Love the outfit,’ Bella commented enthusiastically to Maggie as they exchanged warm hugs in the foyer before going through to the restaurant. ‘And you’ve lost weight,’ she added accusingly, as they were shown to their table. ‘I’ve joined a Pilates exercise course, but so far I have only managed one class,’ she admitted ruefully as they both studied their menus.

  The restaurant was busy, and Maggie gave a discreet glance at the other diners, recognising several well-known faces from television and the media.

  ‘You said you had a new venture you wanted to talk over with me?’ she reminded Bella.

  ‘Mmm…You know, of course, that with the arrival of so many American banks in the City there’s been an awful lot of transatlantic movement in the executive arena?’

  Maggie nodded her head and waited.

  ‘Over half my staff now are ex-Silicon Valley, and I’m seriously thinking about relocating my business to the USA. I’d have to take on an American partner, but that’s all in hand, and what I wondered, Maggie, is whether or not you would be interested in taking over those of my people who want to remain UK-based.’

  Maggie frowned. ‘Bella, I’m a headhunter, not…’

  ‘Don’t turn me down yet. Think about it,’ Bella started to cajole determinedly. ‘You’ve got the people skills to do it, Maggie, and I can’t think of anyone who would look after my people’s interests better. Financially you’d do very well out of it, too. Of course, theoretically, one should be able to work from anywhere in the world with all this modern technology, and the fact that I’m going to be based in the States should not make any difference at all, but my people are very valuable commodities, with extremely fragile egos in some cases, that require a certain amount of hands-on attention. And that’s something you are very good at, Maggie. What I’d got in mind for us was a partnership whereby—Wow!’

  Bella broke off the earnestness of her discussion to say breathlessly, ‘Just look over there—that table for two to our right. Mmm.’ She sighed appreciatively. ‘There’s nothing quite like a big sexy man for making a woman remember that she’s a woman, and he’s very definitely all man and more.’

  As she glanced idly in the direction Bella was indicating Maggie froze in shocked disbelief. The man Bella was drooling over was Finn. Finn, here in London, the place he abhorred, and sharing an intimate dinner with the kind of woman he supposedly found least attractive: a stunning, elegant, city-sleek brunette who was right now leaning across their table to place her hand over his whilst she smiled up into his eyes with the kind of smile that…

  ‘Maggie? Are you okay?’

  Somehow she managed to swallow down the fiery ball of mingled fury and pain lodged in her throat; somehow she managed to drag her furious and anguished gaze away from the two people who were so patently oblivious to her presence.

  ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ she lied, adding desperately, ‘Look, Bella, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut and run. I forgot when we fixed dinner that I’d got something else on.’

  As she spoke Maggie was standing up, desperate to leave the restaurant before Finn saw her, desperate to escape from that intimate little tableau that would be burned across her heart for ever.

  Bella was looking confused, as well she might, Maggie acknowledged, and pressing her to think about the pr
oposal she had outlined to her.

  ‘Yes. Yes, I will,’ Maggie promised her.

  Oh, please God, let her get away before Finn saw her. Please, please, please…

  Finn tried not to show his impatience as his solicitor outlined some of the problems she had been having in drawing up the lease for the Dower House. Maggie’s request for some photographs of the house had led to him spending a bright afternoon photographing it, both inside and out, and the prints were now carefully tucked away in his briefcase, awaiting delivery to Maggie herself—his personal delivery. He could, of course, have mailed them, but since he had had to meet with his solicitor anyway, it had seemed only sensible to pass on the photographs to Maggie at the same time.

  ‘I can’t believe I’ve finally got you to come to London,’ Tina was teasing him ruefully, leaning across the table to tap the back of his hand in light admonition when he made no response. ‘Hello, Finn? Are you there?’ she asked him dryly.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘You were saying…?’

  ‘I’ve checked with Paul about the lease, and we think we’ve finally ironed out all the potential problems.’

  Paul was her husband and partner, and Finn had first got to know them when he himself had worked in the City.

  ‘Oh, by the way, you’ll never guess what. We’re actually thinking of relocating ourselves. Paul’s dealt with so many country conveyances for our clients recently that he’s got itchy feet—’

  She broke off her conversation as the sound of a chair being scraped back over the immaculate wooden floor broke the hushed silence of the restaurant. Automatically both of them looked in the direction of the sound.

  Maggie…here…Finn couldn’t believe it. He started to get up from the table, but Maggie was already heading for the exit.

  ‘Finn, what is it?’ Tina was asking him in bemusement.

  ‘Nothing…I don’t want to rush you, Tina, but there’s someone else I have to see this evening.’

  Maggie…Finn could feel his heart thudding heavily. Her dinner companion had been another woman and he knew he ought to be ashamed to admit just how much that pleased him.

  The ache of missing her that had become a permanent feature of his life sharpened to a raging agony of need. If loving her was hell, then living without her was even worse. But a part-time relationship, taking second place to her career, that would never be enough for him.

  He wanted her to want him, to love him with the same degree of commitment and intensity he did her.

  Picking up the papers Tina had given him, he opened his briefcase to put them inside. Beneath the wallet of prints of the Dower House lay a small sheaf of estate agents’ brochures—one-bedroomed city apartments, pièd-a-terres just in case Maggie should…

  Snapping his briefcase shut, he leaned over to kiss Tina.

  He hadn’t alerted Maggie to the fact that he intended to call and see her just in case she refused to see him. Outside the hotel he gave the taxi driver her address and prayed grimly that she would have gone home when she left the restaurant, and not on to another venue.

  Just as soon as she had put down her coat and bag and kicked off her shoes, Maggie started to rifle through the contents of her kitchen cupboard and fridge, with the panicky desperation of an addict hunting for a fix. It didn’t matter that she already had a freezer full of chilli; the need to make some more gripped her in its frantic compulsion. Making chilli soothed and comforted her, and it reminded her too that she was an independent strong-minded woman who could do anything she wished.

  Except stop loving Finn.

  Her frenzied movements ceased, her body going still and then stiff as her doorbell rang. It would probably be her neighbour, wanting to talk through the problems with her current relationship Maggie decided as she unlocked and opened the door.

  Only it wasn’t her neighbour—it was Finn…

  Grimly she wondered how on earth he had got past Bill, the supposedly impenetrable barrier against unwanted and uninvited visitors in whom her grandmother placed such faith.

  Finn, guessing what she might be thinking, reflected ruefully on the very imaginative ‘sweetener’ he had been forced to offer the doorman, along with an equally imaginative sob story, in order to gain access to the building.

  ‘It’s more than my life’s worth to let you in without checking that you’re expected, guv,’ had been his initial reaction to Finn’s arrival in the hallway.

  Finn just hoped that if she ever got to know the truth Maggie’s grandmother would forgive him for taking not just her name in vain, as it were, but also for the totally fictitious friendship with her which he had claimed which, even more than the money he had handed over, had swayed the Cerberus guarding the doorway in his favour.

  Weakly Maggie gave in to her own need and looked hungrily at him. The city suit and crisp shirt he was wearing emphasised the country hardness of his body with its lean muscular strength.

  Shakily she stepped back from the door. There was a small betraying smear of lipstick on his cheek. Unable to stop herself, she focused on it, all too easily imagining the seductive manner in which the brunette would have coaxed him to stay with her.

  ‘I’ve got some photographs for you—of the Dower House,’ Finn was saying as he pushed her front door shut. ‘I was a bit concerned that they might get lost in the post, so I decided to deliver them myself. I had to come to London anyway, to see someone…’

  ‘Yes, I saw you with her in the restaurant,’ Maggie told him fiercely whilst her brain fought to regain control of her tongue from her wildly out of control emotions—and lost—with a vengeance. ‘Obviously some city women do meet with your approval,’ she heard herself saying challengingly. Then, as her brain cut in, before she could betray herself even further, ‘I’d like you to leave please,’ she added quickly.

  ‘Leave?’ Finn questioned. ‘But…’

  ‘Yes, leave,’ Maggie confirmed. ‘And right now.’

  Somehow she managed to angle her way past him in the small hallway, and as she reached for the front door handle the pain driving her forced her to say acidly, ‘Fortunately in the City we aren’t subject to impassable fords or impenetrable blizzards, so on this occasion there won’t be any need—Oh!’ She gave a shocked gasp as without warning the flat was plunged into complete darkness.

  Her fiercely guarded and secret fear of the dark was a hangover from her childhood which mortified her, but as the darkness blacked out every single particle of light she could feel the panic caused by the inky blackness of the windowless hallway roaring through her.

  Frantically she tried to cling to her self-control. ‘It must be a fuse,’ she heard herself saying weakly to Finn as she stood rooted to the spot, terrified of moving.

  ‘More like a power blackout,’ she could hear him responding grimly. She could tell from his voice and the emptiness of the air close to her that he had moved away from her and into her living room. From there he called out to her. ‘Everything’s in darkness. I can’t see a light anywhere.’

  Everything. No lights. Not anywhere. Maggie could feel herself starting to tremble violently, but from somewhere she managed to find the strength of will to claim denyingly, ‘This is the City; we don’t have power blackouts.’

  ‘Mmm…like fords don’t flood and heavy snow doesn’t fall in November,’ Finn agreed sardonically. ‘Well, whether you like it or not, there’s no way I’m leaving you here on your own until the power returns.’

  Shamingly, the first reaction Maggie had to his announcement was one of intense relief. To punish herself for it, she said grittily, ‘I’m sure your dinner companion would be a much more suitable candidate for your company than me.’

  ‘Tina?’ Finn questioned. ‘She’s my solicitor. She and her husband Paul are old friends from my City days.’

  His solicitor. Now Maggie was actually grateful for the darkness, to protect not just her hot flush of embarrassment but, more importantly, the almost intoxicatingly intense quiver of happi
ness that shot through her.

  Even so, she still insisted, ‘There really isn’t any need for you to stay.’

  ‘If you think for one minute that I’m going to leave you here on your own in a situation like this—’

  Maggie’s heart started to thud even more anxiously as she listened to him. If Finn were to leave now, Maggie knew that she would remain curled up right here in her small hallway until the power returned or it grew light. That was how afraid of the dark she was.

  ‘Do you have any candles?’ Finn was demanding.

  ‘Yes…Yes, I do. They’re…they’re in the kitchen.’ She swallowed nervously at the thought of having to make her way through the thick darkness of her flat to her kitchen. She would rather stay where she was.

  She waited, dry-mouthed, for Finn to insist that she got the candles, and her legs weakened dangerously when instead he told her, ‘Let’s go and get them, then. You lead the way.’

  And then, as he finished speaking, he reached for her hand, holding it in the warm grip of his own.

  Oh, the blessed relief of that lovely warm human contact. Maggie closed her eyes and took a deep steadying breath. She could actually feel Finn’s presence surrounding her, protecting her, giving her the courage and the strength to urge her shaky legs to move her towards the kitchen.

  She could feel Finn standing behind her as she opened the kitchen cupboard where she kept her dinner candles. The matches were with them, and as she turned round to hand everything to Finn the discovery that he was standing so close to her that her movement had brought them body to body caused her to shake so much that she dropped the matches.

  They both bent down to retrieve them at the same time and Maggie could feel the warmth of Finn’s breath against her face. An aching wanton yearning for him filled her. Fiercely she fought against it.

  He might be doing the correct gentlemanly thing now, in insisting on remaining with her, but she was not going to let herself fall into the delusion of thinking that it meant anything—especially the kind of ‘anything’ that might have her telling him about how she had had a change of heart about the absolute necessity of her living in the City, or how she could now see that it would be possible for her to live in the country and still continue to run her business. And she certainly wasn’t going to tell him of the long lonely empty nights she had lived through since her return to London, nor the way that in her darkest hours she would have given anything, everything, just to be with him. Just to be held in his arms close to him. Just to be sharing the intimacy of his bed with him, wrapped in the even more precious intimacy of his arms…his love.