by Helen Brooks
He couldn't fail to notice her rigidity, and after a moment he swore under his breath, raising his head as he said, 'Don't fight me, Tory. You're mine and you know it You can't win.'
Maybe not, but I can make sure you don't win either, she thought numbly. 'I want a divorce, Zac.' As he moved back a pace, his eyes narrowing on her face, she raised her chin determinedly. 'As soon as possible,' she added, with such a note of determination in her voice he couldn't fail to believe she meant business.
'No way.' It was almost lazy, only the fiery glow in his black eyes revealing the banked-down emotion. 'No way.'
'I mean it,' she insisted with quiet dignity.
'So do I.' The desire which still had him in its grip was making his voice husky. 'I told you, I never let go of what is mine. Not unless I want to, that is. And in this case I don't.'
She almost put her hand protectively across her fiat stomach as he spoke, before warning herself she couldn't afford any instinctive gestures like that. Zac was nobody's fool. She had to get back to England and then disappear again, until the divorce was through or the baby was born—whichever came first. And the fewer people who knew about the pregnancy the better.
'You won't be able to stop me divorcing you, Zac,' Victoria said with a quiet bravery she hadn't known she was capable of. 'It will happen whether you want it to or not. No woman has to remain chained to a man she doesn't love these days.'
'Ah, but you do love me.' It was supremely arrogant and devastatingly true, and Victoria kept her face blank only by the harsh training she had received throughout a childhood of hiding her feelings. Then, as now, she had known any weakness would be recognised and used unmercifully against her. 'I was the first man to take you and I intend to be the last. Believe me.'
She couldn't believe the double standards. 'I take it you operate on the sentiment that a woman is like a flower with honey for just one bee?' she said bitterly. 'Whereas a man is able to go from flower to flower to flower? Is that it?'
'I didn't say that.' He eyed her daddy, his mouth grim.
'You didn't have to,' she returned smartly. 'That particular male view has been expressed since the beginning of time; it's not new. Men can play around all they like but the little woman remains at home as pure as the driven snow.'
'I never pretended that I was inexperienced, Victoria,' Zac ground out irritably. 'You knew when you married me that there had been other women before you. I was quite open about that.'
'Before me, yes.' She drew in a shuddering breath, the now familiar feeling of light-headedness and nausea rearing its head. 'I just didn't expect there would be any after me, that's all. Look—' she sank down into the rocking chair again, her head bowed as she tried to control the nausea '—we're getting nowhere with all this and I'm not feeling too well; the heat and the different food has upset my stomach. Please go, Zac. I need to lie down.'
Her extreme pallor spoke for itself, and after an exasperated, 'For crying out loud,' Zac took a visible hold on his temper before saying, his voice quieter, 'All right, I'll leave you to rest. But Victoria?' She raised her head at the tone, looking at him for a long moment as he surveyed her with narrowed eyes before saying, 'Don't think about disappearing again. Once I can accept, but twice would be a big, big mistake. Do I make myself clear?' he added grimly.
Who did he think he was talking to—one of his employees? Victoria thought furiously, the adrenalin pumping hot and strong. She raised her drooping head a few notches and glared at him.
The anger carried her through the next few moments of Zac leaving, but it left her in a big whoosh when he turned on the doorstep, putting down his big black leather overnight bag that he had obviously slung into her hall some time during his arrival, and took her in his arms again, kissing her very thoroughly before raising dark, sardonic eyebrows at her flushed protestations.
'I can't help it,' he said mockingly. 'There's something about this pale and interesting look that turns me on, especially with the new fiery part of you as an interesting contrast.'
'I don't want you to be turned on.' She wasn't at all sure it was the truth and that confused her still more. 'Not now, not ever.'
'Thanks a bunch.' It was very dry.
'I mean everything I've said today, Zac—'
'No, you don't,' he interposed smoothly, before she could say anything more. 'You want me every bit as much as I want you, but you don't trust me and I don't like that I don't like that at all.'
'You don't like it?' She stared at him incredulously, unable to believe her ears. 'Well, that's just tough, isn't it?'
He shrugged lazily, but Victoria had seen his eyes narrow and his mouth tighten. She hadn't spoken to him like that before and he didn't like it Good. The man's arrogance was past belief and she wasn't prepared to take it a minute longer.
'You're really not going to listen to me, are you?' he said thoughtfully after a tense few seconds had ticked by. 'But you believed every word the dragon lady said.'
His nickname for her mother used to make Victoria smile but she didn't feel like smiling any more. And now, in spite of the muggy, sweltering heat that had the dusty streets deserted and empty except for a few chickens pecking desultorily here and there, the temperature chilled to zero as he added, 'And you ran to William Howard; you trust William Howard. Why is that, Victoria?'
'William?' In the shock of seeing Zac again she hadn't thought to ask exactly how he had known where she was, but now her voice trembled as she said, 'Did William tell you where I was? You…you haven't hurt him—'
Now it was arctic conditions. 'No, I haven't hurt him,' Zac grated with dangerous composure, his eyes lethal. 'I wasn't aware that there was any reason to, but I'm beginning to wonder. I found out where you were by other means; I have…contacts.'
Oh, yes, she was well aware of his 'contacts', Victoria thought bitterly. He had a small army of minions ready to jump at the click of his fingers, and money could buy anything—or anyone. She had heard him talk about 'necessary research' once—they had been at a party and one of his business colleagues had button-holed him about a prospective deal—and when she had asked him what he had meant, once the man was gone, he had smiled before saying, 'I have people who find out things, Tory, that's all. Things that other people might prefer to keep hidden.'
'Private detectives, you mean?' she had asked naively.
'Something like that.' And then he had changed the subject.
'Why doesn't Coral know this William?' Zac asked sharply.
Victoria snapped back from the past as Zac's voice cut into her thoughts. 'My mother never took any interest in my friends,' Victoria said tightly, 'as well you know.' Except you, she thought My mother took a great interest in you from day one. And now she knew why. 'Have you asked her about William?' she added abruptly as the portent of his words made itself known. Silly question; of course he had.
'Yes, I have.' The night-black eyes were boring into her brain. 'He is the brother of a schoolfriend, yes? That is all that Coral knew. My…source informed me he was out of the country covering some disturbance or other in Saudi Arabia.'
'That's top-secret information,' Victoria blurted out, shocked to the core. William had impressed upon her, on his last visit the previous weekend, that only very few people knew of his forthcoming, extremely sensitive and delicate assignment.
'But he told you,' Zac said very softly. 'He told you, Victoria.'
'Of course he did.' She had meant that William had confided his whereabouts to her because she was an old and trusted friend who was living in his home—or one of them—and Victoria knew William had been trying to prevent her worrying if she was unable to contact him for a week or two. But now, as she stared into the menacingly dark face of her husband, she realised Zac had put quite another interpretation on her innocent reply.
'Of course.' His mouth was a hard, angry line, his black brows drawn together in a ferocious scowl. 'Victoria, exactly what is your relationship with this action man?' Zac asked with icy cont
rol. 'And I want the truth, please,' he added cuttingly.
'My…' He was jealous. He was jealous of William, Victoria thought numbly. And who was he to talk about truth?
'You flew out to Tunisia in the middle of April,' Zac bit out harshly, looking every inch his mother's son as his glittering black eyes blazed his Italian blood. 'Where were you for the two weeks before that when you fell off the face of the earth?'
He was questioning her morals? Victoria thought disbelievingly, white-hot rage beginning to bubble like a volcano about to explode. He was actually daring to suggest that she and William…
'How dare you?' she spluttered helplessly, utterly outraged.
'Oh, I dare, Victoria. I most certainly dare,' he snarled darkly, breaking into her loud, hissing protest with a fury that matched her own. 'I'm asking you again—where were you?'
She glared at him, drawing herself up to her full five feet six inches as she tilted back her head and stared him straight in the eyes. 'I was at William's flat,' she said icily. 'Okay?'
'I see.' It was more ominous than any bellow.
'No, you don't! You don't see at all,' Victoria shot back tightly. 'William has been absolutely wonderful to me, he always has been, but we're friends, that's all. Platonic friends.'
'There is no such thing between a man and woman,' Zac stated tautly, 'especially a woman who looks like you. He would have to be made of stone, and I take it he is very much a flesh-and-blood man, right? A man who likes women?' He added suddenly, evidence that he had thought of another possibility clear on his face.
'Of course William likes women.' Victoria was even more furious that Zac obviously considered the only way she and William had been able to keep their hands off each other was if William preferred men. 'He's very…' Her voice stopped abruptly as she realised it wasn't tactful in the circumstances to labour William's masculinity. She stared at him as her mind went blank.
'Very…?' Zac rasped angrily. 'William is very… ?'
Oh, to hell with it. 'Male,' Victoria said a trifle weakly.
'Is he?' If ever two words were loaded, those two were. 'And this very male man looks on you in the same way an aged uncle would?' Zac continued with heavy sarcasm. 'How old is he?'
'Twenty-seven.' Victoria's tone clearly stated, Make of that what you will. 'And I'm not prepared to discuss William with you,' she added firmly, contradicting herself immediately when she said, 'He, at least, has never let me down.'
'I bet he hasn't,' Zac derided contemptuously, 'but if you ever stay with him again you'd better book him a hospital bed at the same time. He'll need one.' He glared at her ferociously.
'You wouldn't!' Victoria glared back, horrified. 'How dare you threaten William? He's never done anything to you.'
'It's not what he's done to me that concerns me,' Zac said with lethal intent. 'And it's not a threat, it's a promise.'
'I don't believe this!' She was so angry she could barely get the words out. 'After all you've done, you have the cheek to object to William and me—' She suddenly had a wave of light-headedness and stopped abruptly, her colour coming and going as she stared into the blazingly angry face of her husband.
'William and you…?' Zac pressed softly, his face making it clear he was thinking the worst from her sudden silence.
'Being friends.' Even to her own ears it sounded like an afterthought, and her own patheticness made her voice tremble with a mixture of rage and injured pride as she said, 'It is your suspicious mind that has made up the rest William is one of the nicest men I know, and certainly the most honourable. He's kind and generous—'
'Spare me a list of his virtues, Victoria, please,' Zac grated with hateful sarcasm. 'I'm amazed this paragon hasn't got wings already. And whilst we're talking about suspicious minds, might I remind you you are in no position to cast the first stone?'
'You're saying I've got a suspicious mind?' Her voice had risen to a shrill shriek that made Zac wince. 'After you—' She couldn't go on, she was too angry, and it was a few gasping breaths later before she managed to say, 'I'm not discussing this any more, there's absolutely no point, but I can't believe you just said that.'
'One rule for you and one rule for me?' Zac suggested icily. It was adding salt to the wound.
'I'm going to lie down.' Victoria drew herself up, her voice fairly coherent, which was a miracle in itself considering how she was feeling. 'I'm…I'm feeling worse.' Worse? She felt ghastly.
'Whereas I, of course, am feeling great?' came the sarcastic rejoinder. And then, when she didn't venture a comment, he asked, 'Do you want the number of my hotel?'
'No.'
Victoria shut the door on his outraged face and just made it to the bathroom before she deposited the contents of her stomach into William's bright blue basin.
CHAPTER THREE
'And you haven't told him you're pregnant?'
It was a full week later and Victoria was back in England, the crowded restaurant where she and William were having lunch packed to bursting with the elite of London's high-fliers.
'No, I told you. He was only in Tunisia overnight, and when he came back in the evening we just fought again. It…it was awful.' Victoria wanted to cry but she knew she couldn't—not in the middle of Radstone's where her lettuce leaves and chicken must be costing William a small fortune. 'I told him I was coming back to England and…and that I'd be renting a place.' She hadn't told William the fall story—William, like Zac, had a healthy amount of fierce male pride, and she doubted he would appreciate being labelled the third part of a triangle.
It seemed she was less adept at hiding the truth than she had thought. 'I take it he objected to you staying at Mimosa?' William asked wryly with a lift of his dark eyebrows. 'And even more my flat, no doubt. Well, I can understand that of course.'
'But why?' Victoria objected plaintively. 'I told him we were old friends, and that our relationship was purely platonic, but he didn't believe me. He…said that there was no such thing as a platonic friendship between a man and a woman.'
'He was right,' William agreed with a remarkable lack of heat.
It wasn't what Victoria had expected, and her face said so.
'Look, Blue-eyes—' it was the nickname he had given her when she was eight years old and had stuck ever since '—you're absolutely gorgeous, and I fancy you like mad, but I've always known you see me as a big brother and nothing more. So…' He shrugged easily, his nonchalance hiding a pain which had plagued him for years and had taken more self-will than he had known he possessed to come to terms with. 'That's okay. I'd rather be in your life as a friend than out of it altogether.' He shrugged slowly.
'Oh, William.' She stared at him, her soft heart immediately flooded with guilt. 'You've never said… I didn't know.'
'Of course you didn't, and it's no big deal,' he insisted easily. No big deal? She still had the power to floor him with one look from those big blue eyes. 'I'm here for you, always, okay? And all the crazy, angry husbands in the world wouldn't make me change my mind. My home is your home, Blue-eyes, whenever you need it. No strings, no bother. Now—' he smiled at her as the moment became charged with emotion '—eat your lunch. You're eating for two, remember, so you'd better pack away a double dessert to make up for the lack of nutrition in that thing.' He poked his fork at her salad with manly distaste.
'William…' Victoria wriggled helplessly, her eyes tragic.
'Eat, woman.' And this time his smile was genuine. 'It's not the end of the world. I'm not going to die from unrequited love or anything like that. You know me—tough as old boots.'
'I feel awful,' Victoria murmured softly.
'Well, don't.' And suddenly it was the old William, the William she knew—or thought she had known, she corrected silently. 'I'm not exactly short of female company as you well know.' He gave a leery wink to make her laugh, and Victoria obliged, although it was forced. Poor William. Poor, poor William.
She just hadn't dreamt William felt like that about her, she told herself in
amazement Not in a hundred years. In fact she was beginning to think that the whole mate population was a species apart. Why hadn't he said something? She glanced at him now as he tucked into an enormous fillet steak with every appearance of enjoyment, to all intents and purposes perfectly relaxed.
Could she have ever felt that certain spark with William? He was certainly good-looking, with his wavy dark hair and brown eyes with little flecks of green, straight nose and smiling mouth. He was tall too, not as tall as Zac's six feet four, but William was a good six inches taller than her and lean and fit with it But he was right. She lowered her eyes to her plate and pecked at her salad. She did look on him as a brother. Loved him as a brother actually… But there was nothing romantic there.
'How long does this morning sickness go on?' William asked suddenly, and she glanced up to see a look of concern in his gentle eyes. 'You're getting as thin as a rake.'
'A few more weeks yet, I think.' She sighed wearily. 'And I only wish it was morning sickness. With me it's every hour of the day and night sickness, and then a bit I was even sick in the middle of the night when I got up to go to the loo. And that's another inconvenient something no one tells you about—my bladder has developed a life of its own,' she finished plaintively.
'Poor old love.' But he was laughing and she couldn't help a rueful grin back, which swiftly faded when he said, his tone serious now, 'You do know you're going to have to tell him sooner or later? It's his child too, Blue-eyes. You can't keep something like that from a man. This idea of disappearing is a non-starter.'
'What's this, the eternal brotherhood?' she asked grumpily. But he was right She knew he was right And she also knew she was going to have the dickens of a fight on her hands once Zac knew she was carrying his child. But she wasn't going to give in.
They left the restaurant arm in arm, and as always Victoria felt better for having talked to William, after crying most of the long, lonely night away, lying awake until the early hours.