‘I don’t want a purely physical involvement with you, or with any man, for that matter. You wanted more than a light flirtation, and I wasn’t interested in a heavy but brief affair. And nothing has altered on that score. I want something solid and lasting, marriage and children, not only a shared bed but a shared life, and that’s what I’m going to have with Tony. Nothing, but nothing, is going to come before my marriage. I’m taking this so seriously that I’ve even given up my receptionist’s job at the hotel because of the evening hours involved. When Tony comes home from work, I’m going to be there.’
She hadn’t meant to work up to such an impassioned speech, but she was trembling with the forces that had built up in her. She had found deep pleasure in being held and kissed by him, but there was more to life than that.
‘Do you love Tony?’
For the life of her she couldn’t give a straightforward, honest yes, because Matt’s return had confused everything for her. So she parried that one by saying, ‘Would I be marrying him tomorrow if I didn’t?’
The slant of his mouth was doubting, but he merely said, ‘And how about Tony? Does he love you?’
‘He says he does, and he’s never given me cause to disbelieve him.’
His gaze locked with hers for a heart-stopping moment; then his expression went curiously blank. ‘In that case, there’s nothing more to be said.’ With that he turned on his heel and left.
But Zoe wasn’t convinced that he had meant it. She locked the door after him, then wandered back into her bedroom, needing to look at her wedding dress . . . She touched it for reassurance but got none. It was a beautiful dress. Since she didn’t have a mother of her own, Tony’s mother, Matt’s sister Nerissa, had gone with her to help with the choice. Yet she had needed no help. It had been the first one she tried on once she decided to go all out and get a gown, and it was perfect for her in every way. Done in pure ivory, it was classically simple, and while it showed her figure off to its best advantage, it was also demurely right for the occasion.
For a long time she had had the feeling that everything was going too well for her and had been suspicious of it. She experienced no earth tremors when she was with Tony, but she felt a deep and warm affection for him, and when he had asked her to marry him, it had seemed right to say yes.
She could never be sure why she had agreed to go out with him when he first asked her for a date. She had known that he was Matt’s nephew, and even if she hadn’t had positive knowledge of that fact, there would still have been a certain poignancy in their similar looks. Both were tall, with wide shoulders and deeply muscled chests. Matt had the narrower waist and hips, but he exercised more and didn’t indulge to excess in food and drink. If Tony didn’t pay more attention to his diet and moderate his drinking, or if some caring woman didn’t take him in hand, he would have a paunch by the time he was Matt’s age. Zoe firmly believed that when she was his wife her loving influence would take care of that. Tony’s hair wasn’t as fiercely virile or as dark as Matt’s, and his eyes weren’t black but more of a dark, spaniel brown, but they were enough alike for it to be self-inflicted pain for Zoe to be with him and look at him.
She had never quite got over Matt, so the question was often in her mind, did she go out with his paler reflection as a next-best substitute, or as punishment for taking too long to recover from her hopeless infatuation? Whatever the reason, very gradually, over the months, Tony’s own beguiling personality had infringed itself upon her awareness, and she had begun to accept him, faults and all, for himself, had grown to like him and be very fond of him.
For Tony’s sake, Zoe went out of her way to like Tony’s mother. Nerissa Talbot hadn’t been widowed all that long, and it was natural for a newly bereaved woman to cling to her only son. Zoe made allowances for both of them, guessing that Nerissa had always been overprotective and appreciating that this could account for the streak of weakness in Tony. Nerissa had taken the wind out of Zoe’s sails by admitting as much herself while taking pains to point out that she would do her utmost not to be an interfering mother-in-law, and grandmother when the time came, and that it was her dearest wish that she would find a friend in her daughter-in-law. That was fine by Zoe. Kind of comforting. There had still been the stumbling block of Matt, but she’d managed to still any tiny voice of disquiet in that quarter.
It was strange the way Tony never spoke of Matt. After all, Matt was his boss as well as his uncle. On the rare occasion when Matt’s name did filter into the conversation, there was a bitterness in Tony’s tone that was unattractive. At the risk of being disloyal to her fiancé, she wondered whether Tony’s antagonism wasn’t based on jealousy.
Matt hadn’t inherited a family concern as so many do. He had started with a modest job with a firm of haulers, learning the ropes before graduating to his own haulage business. From small beginnings it had grown into a name to be reckoned with. Although the trading name was just ‘Hunter’s’ now, in the days when Zoe had known Matt it had been ‘Hunter & Talbot.’ Had the Talbot been a relative of Tony’s on his father’s side? Was that why Matt had made Tony his heir? And what had happened to the partnership?
The ringing of the telephone broke off her conjectures. When she answered it, Zoe was slightly dismayed to hear Nerissa’s voice. At the best of times Tony’s mother could hardly be described as a soothing influence. ‘Just checking that the bride-to-be is okay.’
‘I’m fine, thank you, Mrs. Talbot. It was thoughtful of you to ring.’
‘I’m not so old that I can’t remember the night before my wedding. I was in a terrible state. You wouldn’t believe it.’ Oh, yes, Zoe would. Her future mother-in-law twisted her fingers and fidgeted and made a big panic production out of everything. ‘I’m pleased to hear you sounding so calm.’
If Nerissa thought that, either she wasn’t very perceptive or Zoe was a better actress than she’d credited herself with being.
‘Has my brother been round to introduce himself?’
‘Yes, and to bring my wedding gift.’
‘Matt is very unorthodox. Anyone else would have waited until morning, but he was most insistent. He’s a very forceful man; it’s best to go along with him.’
‘Yes, I . . . er . . . can imagine.’
‘Weddings aren’t his scene at all, and he has a very full work schedule. You should be flattered, Zoe dear, that he’s squeezed the time in to be here for yours and Tony’s wedding. Although why . . . ?’
Was Zoe supposed to say how flattered and thrilled and delighted she was that Matt proposed to attend the next day’s ceremony? The words would have stuck in her throat. And what did she make of that puzzling, Although why?
Nerissa ended the lengthy pause by asking, ‘Did you like the gift he brought you?’
That was easier. ‘It’s beautiful. I couldn’t help but like it.’
‘I’m delighted. Matt bought a gift for Tony, too. Cuff links. You can also expect the traditional check.’
‘Your brother is very generous.’
‘It’s easy to be generous when you’re loaded,’ Nerissa said in a dry, waspish tone that held Zoe’s tongue silent. ‘Are you glad that you listened to me and decided on the gown?’
Like every girl, Zoe had dreamed of a long wedding gown and a veil, but when the time had come she had wanted to relinquish it in favor of a two-piece suit and less bridallike hat. She had even got her outfit picked out. It would have been different if her parents had still been alive and she’d been getting married from the family home. But they weren’t. Zoe had no really close relatives, just distant cousins and one elderly aunt who wasn’t in the best of health and couldn’t tackle the long journey, so she wouldn’t be at the wedding. Another regret was that Tony’s maternal grandmother wouldn’t be able to come for the same reason. She lived even further afield—in France, the country her husband’s work had taken her to in mid-life. She loved the warmth and the people, and on becoming a widow she had seen no reason to pull up stakes and decided
to remain in Provence. Zoe had still to meet her.
All in all, anything on a grand scale had seemed pointless to her. But when she hinted at this, Nerissa had practically gone into a state of shock, saying that it wasn’t fair to deprive her of the glory of a full-scale wedding. She had looked down her nose, as if there was something improper in Zoe’s wish to slide quietly through the big day. And anyway, Nerissa had protested, even if Zoe only had a modest handful of guests she wished to invite, her own large circle of friends would make the numbers up.
‘Yes, I’m glad you talked me into it, Mrs. Talbot.’
‘I knew you would be. Mothers always know best,’ Nerissa came back, not seeming to notice the hollowness of Zoe’s tone. ‘And now, dear, I’ll let you get your beauty sleep. Can’t have you looking less than radiant.’
Nerissa rang off then. Sighing, Zoe prepared for bed, knowing full well that she wasn’t going to be able to sleep. Tony’s dislike of Matt had been obvious all along. Nerissa, while not gushing over her brother, had always been careful to cover up. She had been less attentive just now and had let her true feelings show through. And then there were her own feelings about Matt . . .
Purposefully, she tried to turn her thoughts to other matters, but the effort proved futile. Nerissa had taken most of the wedding arrangements off her hands, including sending out the invitations. At first Zoe had been a little resentful of that. It was her wedding and it seemed as though she wasn’t having a hand in it. Tony had pointed out to her that because she didn’t have any daughters of her own, it had always been his mother’s deep regret that she would never get to arrange a wedding. ‘She would have had to stand aside if your mother had been alive, but in the circumstances it’s a pity to deprive her, and quite frankly, darling, I think it’s a little selfish of you to want to do so,’ Tony had recriminated. Zoe had conceded that she supposed it was, and she had given in, if not very happily. It occurred to her now that while an invitation had been sent to Matt, it had been done so merely to observe protocol. A handsome gift had been expected, apparently, but not his presence!
A small, wry smile curved Zoe’s mouth. Matt had always been unpredictable. The smile disappeared with her next thought. It had been unpredictable the way he had walked out on her five years earlier.
She had known that he must have been dating other girls at the same time as he was seeing her. He had too much sensuality in his makeup to be satisfied with what he was getting out of their relationship. There was a look about him—she had seen it again that night and remembered it vividly from before—that she had always viewed with wary fascination. A look which said he would have a voracious sexual appetite. So there would have been other women to provide what was lacking in his relationship with her. Perverse creature that she was, even though she hadn’t been ready for a full sexual relationship and was glad when he turned off the heat and seemed satisfied with the way things were, she had been jealous of those suspected other women. Yet, in other ways, it had been good. They had got on well together. Occasionally he took an avuncular attitude, but she had thought that was a deliberate cooling process on his part should his thoughts, or desires, get too steamy, and so she had been grateful for it. Most of their time together had been too fantastic for words. Words weren’t always needed. They read each other’s thoughts so well that sentences often trailed off unfinished. That was why she hadn’t been able to believe it, and why it had hit her so hard, when he dropped her without explanation. Even if he didn’t want to see her again to tell her that it was over, he could have written, or phoned. He’d had a big cross-Continent haulage job that he said would keep him away for at least a week. He saw her the night before he left, taking her for a meal. He always took her to the best spots, but that night he really outdid himself.
It had been the last thing in elegance. She remembered sitting on a pink velvet Regency chair, and even though queening it was certainly not her style, she had felt rather regal as she sipped vintage champagne and, because she couldn’t understand French, watched Matt cope with the menu. She had imbibed just a bit too freely, and she’d felt strangely exhilarated and dangerously reckless.
When he took her in his arms after driving her home she thought about the passionate Continental women he would encounter during the following week. Feminine eyes always followed him with explicit invitation, even when she was with him, so she could use her imagination about what happened when she wasn’t there. He could be driving a truck, which he frequently did, because he was the kind of boss who liked to get out on the road and keep close contact with his men, but he would always stand separate from the crowd. All the angry warmth of her thoughts went into her response. She had always had difficulty in keeping herself in check, and it was bliss to let go and shift the onus onto him. He had kissed her in every way imaginable—and in other ways she hadn’t imagined. She remembered the musky smell of him, a combination of shaving cologne and the increase of his body heat as her new warmth was discovered and explored. His tongue had traced her mouth, tasting her and testing her responses to kisses of greater depth and intensity. His hands had removed themselves from each side of her face to unbutton the bodice of her dress. She remembered the frustration of all those tiny buttons, so many of them, and then the skin of her breasts tingled as she remembered the gentle but sure touch of his fingers, the sweetness of his lips, the bolder foray of his hands sliding over her hips. He hadn’t tried to make love fully to her, . . . but if he had?
It was a question she had asked herself many times since. He had seemed as shaken as she was when he left her, and she had expected him to get in touch with her when he came back. The week passed, then a second, and still no word from him. Eventually the strain was too much. Thinking that something had happened to him—he’d met with an accident, or he was ill—she had phoned his home number but got no reply. So then she phoned his work number. An icy-voiced female had answered; it had been the kind of voice that went with boring tweeds and no-nonsense lace-up shoes, or perhaps Zoe was prejudiced because she didn’t like the things the formidable lady said. She had insisted on knowing Zoe’s name before giving any information out. And then she had said, very clearly and with cutting explicitness, ‘I’m sorry, Miss Fortune, but I am instructed to say that Mr. Hunter is not available.’
Why . . . why? It had made no more sense then than it did now. If Matt didn’t want her, why had he come back to torment her? Why hadn’t he been decent and stayed out of the picture and let her get married to Tony with a reasonably peaceful mind?
What was she going to do now? Give up Tony, even if she could bring herself to call off the wedding at this late hour? Tony had never been anything but sweet and kind and affectionate toward her. Could she hurt him? As for his mother! . . . She swallowed. In her mind’s eye she could see Nerissa throwing up her arms in despair. ‘How could you do this to us, Zoe?’
Did she want to give Tony up? Several relationships had started up after Matt had left her high and dry, but until Tony she had never met anyone she would have considered marrying. Irrespective of whether she had accepted Tony for the right or the wrong reasons, it was right for her to get married. She needed someone permanently there, needed a shared future.
Even if she could forgive Matt for the cruel way he had dropped her, she would never be able to trust him again. Matt had always been a loner, self-sufficient and uninterested in settling down with one person. Thinking that he might have changed—that he might have done some soul-searching and decided that he wasn’t the solid fortress he imagined, that when it came down to basics he was a flesh and blood man, like every other, who needed someone—was a sure way to heartbreak.
CHAPTER TWO
It was morning. The dawn that crept into her room was as gray as her thoughts. Nothing had been resolved in her mind. It was her wedding day. She glanced across at her wedding dress. It seemed to stare back at her in recrimination, because she still hadn’t any idea whether she would put it on or not.
She k
new she had to see Tony, tell him everything, and ask him if he still wanted to go through with the wedding. After the way she had deceived him by not admitting that she knew Matt, he might not want to marry her. But if, after hearing her confession, he did, then it seemed to her that the best thing would be to let the marriage take place.
She wasn’t fooling herself for one moment that Tony was of the same caliber as Matt. Tony would always need loving understanding and helpful support. But she thought they could make a go of it and enjoy a happy life together. It wouldn’t be as idyllically happy as life with Matt could have been. But it was like comparing a modest diamond with a bright, shining star. One was within her reach, the other was not. Would she deny herself a normal life for a dream?
She got up, showered, and dressed. Mrs. Talbot had suggested, tentatively and hopefully, that as she would feel lost on her own in her huge rambling house, perhaps the newlyweds would care to share it with her. For once Zoe hadn’t been susceptible to Tony’s argument on the value of taking up his mother’s kind offer. Kind to whom? She had put her foot down firmly, and now they had an apartment of their own to go to. It did not have an elevator, but the innumerable steps that had to be climbed to reach it and the fact that it lacked the plush comfort of Tony’s home didn’t matter. What counted was that it would be their home.
But until the wedding Tony still lived with his mother. And as she would be there, Zoe chose a sedate, if still becoming, blouse and skirt, instead of the snug-fitting jeans which she wore like a comfortable second skin and which Mrs. Talbot abhorred. Sweet in many ways, she didn’t move with the times. Current trends and codes of behavior sent her eyebrows skidding up to her elegant hairline.
Normally, beyond a dab of moisturizer and perhaps a light application of lip gloss, Zoe wouldn’t have bothered about makeup for a hurried morning visit, but on inspecting her face and seeing the ravages caused by the turmoil of her thoughts, she decided to use blusher on her pale cheeks and eye shadow to shift the emphasis from the purple crescents beneath her eyes. They were the color of bright sapphires, as Matt had remembered when choosing the pendant for her, so she used a soft, shimmering blue-gray. The incredible length of her lashes needed no enhancing. Luckily they were a darker shade than her hair. Nerissa had wanted her to have her bright russet hair specially styled to take an elaborate headdress, but Zoe had stuck to her decision to leave it as it was, saying that she wouldn’t feel like herself and therefore wouldn’t be comfortable otherwise, and she had found a simple half-hoop of flowers that complemented its length and simple style. Now she brushed it out until the burning highlights danced like flames; she revelled in its healthy bounce as she checked her appearance all round. Even though the inner turmoil was still there, every brick of the outside was in place—if no one looked too closely at the dark shadows under her eyes.
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