by Daphne Clair
Maddie groaned. “I suppose I should. I hope this party isn’t going to be a disaster!”
“It won’t. Mother will turn on her best manners, and Dad will follow her lead.”
And as for her, Paige resolved, she would do her utmost to ensure that Maddie’s first postwedding party went as smoothly as possible.
When Paige arrived at Maddie and Glen’s third-floor apartment in the central city, Jager was already there, looking relaxed and urbane with a shot glass in his hand and talking to Glen’s parents.
Maddie ushered Paige in and Jager got up, crossing the thick deep blue carpet to kiss her cheek. “Paige,” he said, “how are you?”
Even that light touch sent a tingle right to her toes. Without quite meeting his eyes, she said she was fine, thank you, and how was his injured leg?
“No problems. I told you it was only bruised.”
Glen asked her what she’d like to drink, and somehow she found herself seated next to Jager on one of the three leather couches arranged in a U shape. The room was a picture of understated modern elegance. Glen was a junior partner in his father’s law firm, and Maddie worked for an advertising company. Their family connections ensured they had no need to be upwardly mobile, nor, despite Glen’s yen to be a handyman, any need to do their own decorating.
Glen’s mother said, “You two know each other?”
While Paige was wondering how much her sister had told Glen, Jager said, “We knew each other very well at one time.” He glanced at Paige. “It’s not exactly a secret. As a matter of fact, we were married.”
Mrs. Provost’s mouth opened in surprise. “Married?”
Paige said, “It was a long time ago. We were very young and…it didn’t last long.”
Mr. Provost raised his eyebrows and shook his head. “New Zealand is such a small country, but…well. Quite a coincidence.”
Glen handed Paige a glass that she accepted gratefully, glad to have something to concentrate on. His mother said, “Did you know this, Glen?”
He cast an apologetic look at Paige. “Maddie told me.”
Paige took a gulp of the wine he’d given her. “As Jager says, it’s no secret.”
“I’m glad to see you can still be friends,” Mrs. Provost said warmly. “I do think it’s sad when two people who’ve found they made a mistake can hardly be civil to each other.”
“So do I,” Jager agreed.
Friendship had never entered into the equation, Paige thought, looking back. Their feelings had been too raw and white-hot for anything so tepid as that. And their marriage had ended in recrimination and bitterness. They’d been hurting too much to entertain any possibility of remaining friends.
Her eyes met Jager’s and she searched for some clue to his emotions. If he cared about his newfound brother as she certainly cared about her sister, they would have to come to some kind of accommodation. This wouldn’t be the last time they’d find themselves involved in a family occasion.
As Paige had predicted, her parents accepted Jager’s presence with a show of equanimity. After the meal her father was deep in conversation with him while her mother talked with Maddie and Mrs. Provost.
Glen was picking up emptied coffee cups and offering refills, and Paige went to help. “Thanks, Paige,” he said as she followed him to the kitchen, where the counter was filled with dinner dishes and cooking utensils roughly piled together. “We’ll stack the dishwasher later.” He balanced cups and saucers precariously on top of one of the piles.
“I’ll stack it,” Paige offered. “You go back to your guests.”
She had made some headway and was bending over the machine to slot a plate into one of the last spaces left when she heard someone come in.
Straightening, she said, “Nearly there,” and turned, expecting to see Glen or Maddie.
Jager stood in the doorway, holding a couple of empty wine bottles and some used glasses. “Maddie wondered where you’d got to,” he told her. “Lawrence and Paula are leaving.”
“You call your father by his first name?”
“It seems a bit late to be calling him Dad.”
“I’m glad you found him,” she said. “It must be…” She faltered, unable to imagine how it would be to find a father you had never known. “What about your mother?”
“She’s dead.”
“Oh, Jager…I’m sorry.”
He shrugged. “Don’t waste your sympathy. I never knew her.”
“I always thought that was sad. For both of you.”
“It was her choice. Are you going to come and say goodbye?”
She went ahead of him back to the living room.
Her parents had decided to leave too, and after a decent interval and another cup of coffee Paige said she must be going.
Jager echoed her, and they rode down together to the ground floor. When the elevator doors swished apart he followed her into the lobby and opened the outer door for her.
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he said.
He accompanied her in silence, but as she unlocked the door of her new little hatchback he said, “We need to talk, Paige.”
With the key in her hand, she straightened. “We talked tonight.”
The conversation had flowed remarkably easily considering the possible tensions in the room. Jager had easily discussed the news of the day, business and politics with incisive, well-thought-out opinions, and made the others laugh a couple of times with his understated but razorlike humor.
Even her mother’s perfect but lukewarm courtesy warmed and shifted to reluctant graciousness when he’d shown an appreciation of one of her favorite composers. And Paige had enjoyed lightly sparring with him over their differing views of a recent hit film.
He said impatiently, “You know what I meant—we need to talk about…this.”
His hand was under her chin, and he crowded her against the car as he turned her and brought his lips down on hers, compelling and insistent.
She managed to resist the temptation to kiss him back, not fighting him but staying rigid in his arms.
He lifted his head but didn’t move away.
Her voice husky, Paige said, “That isn’t talking, either.”
Jager gave a short, breathy laugh. His hands left her and he placed them on the roof of the car, trapping her in the circle of his arms. “It’s a start.”
“No,” she said, suddenly angry. “It isn’t a start of anything. It’s a leftover—from something that finished long ago.”
“Finished?”
“Finished. Finito. Over. Dead.”
“And what about the night of your sister’s wedding? Was that a leftover? It didn’t feel dead to me.”
“That was an aberration, a stupid impulse that should never have happened. Would never have happened if it hadn’t been for the accident.”
“Okay, if you need an excuse, go ahead. It doesn’t change anything. That night you wanted me as much as I wanted you, for whatever reason you care to cook up.”
“You don’t understand!”
“The hell I don’t! You can’t stand the thought that you slept with me six months after your husband died, so you need something to blame it on—you weren’t yourself, you were in shock, you didn’t know what you were doing. But don’t try to make me swallow your theories, honey. We both wanted it, we both enjoyed it.” His hard voice dropped to a seductive murmur. “And I promise you’ll enjoy it next time…and the next, and the next. Once you can bring yourself to admit that you still want me.”
Paige was trembling. He couldn’t have made it more clear that he had no interest in her as anything other than a sex object, and that he was convinced she felt the same about him. “You arrogant…sod!” Even in anger she couldn’t bring herself to call him a bastard, knowing what she did about his parentage. “Try this for an excuse, then! My husband was killed in a car crash!”
CHAPTER FOUR
JAGER glared at her for several seconds, assimilating that. His throat moved befo
re he said hoarsely, “I didn’t know.”
“Well now you do,” she said. “So maybe you can begin to see why I was so shaken up that night. Why I would have done anything to help me forget…”
“With anyone?” he queried harshly.
Chewing on her lip, she looked away.
At last he moved, dropping his hands and taking a step back.
Paige looked down at the key in her hand. She turned to open the door, and Jager leaned forward and did it for her.
“I’ll see you again,” he said, making her pause.
“I suppose so.”
“Count on it.”
About to climb into the car, she turned her head to him. “Jager—for Maddie’s sake, and Glen’s, can’t we be friends?”
“Can’t friends be lovers?”
That was how it had been with her and Aidan. Friends, then lovers, then husband and wife. But not with Jager. “Friends can become lovers,” she conceded, “but—”
“I suppose it’s too much to hope that’s a promise.”
“It isn’t a promise! I wasn’t talking about us.”
“I thought that was exactly what we were doing.”
He wouldn’t give up easily. He’d always been tenacious and clever. Presumably that had got him where he was today, a successful, dynamic young businessman, with few signs of the rough edges that had so grated on her parents when he was younger, and made them anxious for their daughter’s welfare.
Closing her eyes, she said, “I’m tired, Jager. I don’t want to fight.”
“No one’s fighting,” he said. “Except maybe you. Does it count that you’re fighting yourself?” His hand touched her arm. “Good night, Paige.”
She didn’t answer, getting into the driver’s seat and settling herself without looking at him again, even when he closed the door and let her drive away.
Glen had promised to be at the cottage the following weekend, when Paige intended to start painting the exterior, but she was surprised to see Maddie hop out of the car too.
When the rear door opened and Jager uncoiled his long legs and stood up, she felt her heart lurch and her welcoming smile falter.
Maddie’s eyes were anxious as she approached her sister, with a cloth-covered basket in her hands. “I made some muffins for the workers. Jager called in when we were leaving, and Glen brought him along to help. Do you mind?”
Glen said, “You told us you’d use all the help you could get.”
Jager was looking at the cottage, his gaze going from the new roof to the shabby walls. As Maddie finished her breathless speech he brought his eyes to Paige and lifted his brows in silent inquiry.
“I don’t mind,” she said mechanically. Annoyingly, she was conscious of the shabbiness of her stained jeans and faded, baggy T-shirt. Maddie, in stretch-fit pants and scoop-necked blue silk-knit top, with a matching blue ribbon in her hair, looked fresh and sparkling and quite delicious. And Jager’s beige slacks and white open-necked shirt didn’t remotely resemble work clothes.
Glen, dressed for action in old shorts and a disreputable T-shirt, rummaged in the back of the car and tossed a gray bundle to his half brother. “Here, Jay.”
The bundle unraveled into a pair of workmanlike overalls as Jager caught it. Maddie was moving toward the kitchen, Glen inspecting the walls, and Jager paused in front of Paige. “If you want me to leave,” he said quietly, “say the word. I’ll square it with Glen.”
“There’s no need.” She couldn’t avoid him forever without making things awkward for her sister. “It’s good of you to help.”
His gaze returned briefly to the cottage. “You’ve taken on quite a task here.”
“It keeps me occupied, which is what I need.” Sanding back paint and filling holes and gaps was therapy. The physical work sent her to bed ready to sleep, instead of tossing restlessly as she had in her parents’ house.
She saw curiosity in his eyes followed by comprehension, and then a strangely wooden expression settled on his face.
Glen turned to them and called, “Right, where shall we start?”
Jager and Glen painted the exterior walls, and Maddie helped Paige color the window frames. The morning went quickly, and the sun made the paint dry fast and brought the men out in a sweat.
Glen ripped off his shirt and wiped his forehead with it. “I could do with a swim.”
Unzipping the overalls, Jager said, “The sea’s right at the bottom of Paige’s garden.”
Glen grinned. “Yeah.”
“You don’t have swimming togs,” Maddie objected.
“Who needs them?” Glen looked at Jager, who dropped the overalls to reveal a pair of snug black briefs. Paige hadn’t realized he wasn’t wearing his clothes.
Glen said, “What’s it like down there, Paige?”
“There’s a little shingly beach and some flat rocks. The water’s deep enough to swim quite close to the shore, and it’s usually calm.”
Glen looked at Jager, who nodded. Paige said, “I’ll get you some towels.”
“You’re not coming?” Jager queried when she handed him one.
She shook her head. “Maddie and I will have lunch ready when you come back.”
The men came back with their wet underwear plastered to them and the towels slung around their necks. Maddie made a show of being impressed by Glen’s state of undress, running a hand over his bare chest and cooing at him. Jager, the black briefs clinging to his hips, gave Paige a blatant come-on look which she ignored, although she couldn’t help a smile twitching the corner of her mouth before she turned away.
When the men had dressed the four of them sat on the little porch eating sandwiches and the scones, Maddie and Glen shoulder to shoulder on the bottom step, Paige and Jager facing each other with their backs against the corner posts at the top, their legs carefully not touching.
A neighbor walking his dog waved at them as he passed. Paige waved back. She felt happier than she had for ages.
Jager shoved back a lock of damp hair and swallowed a bite of his sandwich. “D’you know him?”
“He lives just down the street.”
“Alone?”
“I don’t know. He walks the dog every day and we say hello. People are friendly round here.”
“How many of them know you’re living alone?”
She stared at him. “No idea. I haven’t broadcast the fact.”
“You’ll need a burglar alarm. Have you done anything about that?”
“I’m not sure I want one.” She almost laughed. “Dad said that too.” It was so rarely the two of them agreed on anything.
“He was right.”
Paige wet a thumb and raised it. “Chalk that up.”
“It’s no joke,” Jager said. “I know a good firm. I’ll get them to send someone round to give you a quote.”
“I can get my own quotes, thanks.”
“Paige—” He seemed about to say something sharp, but pulled himself up. Moderating his tone to mildness, he said, “Let me do this. It’s only a quote. No obligation.”
Paige inspected the filling in her sandwich, giving herself time. No harm, she supposed, in agreeing. “All right.” She shrugged. “Thanks for the offer.”
They worked until dark and then stopped for a meal that the two women scraped together from what was in the kitchen, and sat for a while in lazy companionship, sipping coffee. Jager hadn’t talked very much but the other two made up for that. Paige was conscious of his gaze brushing her, producing a physical reaction, a light feathering across her skin, but they’d hardly spoken to each other all day.
Glen suggested another swim. “And why don’t you girls come too?”
Maddie shook her head. “Paige said it’s deep, and in the dark…? No thanks.”
“Got a torch, Paige?” Glen asked.
She rummaged in the kitchen drawers and handed it to him.
“What about you?” he asked her, and when she shook her head he said, “Still afraid of deep waters,
Paige?”
It would be silly and childish to rise to such a blatant dare. “I’m not in the mood.”
After they’d gone Maddie said, “Do you really think you can make something of this place?”
“You wait.” Paige started picking up coffee cups. “It’ll be as good as new. Better. Thanks for letting Glen help.” She pecked Maddie’s cheek in passing. “He’s been great. You too. I didn’t expect you to turn up.”
“And Jager.”
“And Jager,” Paige agreed.
Maddie followed her into the half-renovated kitchen. “Isn’t it funny the way things turn out? I mean, me being sort of related to Jager.”
“It’s a small world.”
“I suppose Aidan was more your type, really. Mum and Dad’s type, anyway…”
“My type too,” Paige said firmly, starting to rinse cups. “Aidan and I understood each other. I was lucky to find him.”
“He was one of the nicest men I’ve ever met,” Maddie said warmly, finding a tea towel. “A lot like Glen.”
Paige gave her sister an affectionate smile. “Yes.”
“Not that I don’t like Jager. But he’s…different. Harder. I was a bit worried when I found out he’s Glen’s half brother.”
“About me?”
“About Glen.” Maddie looked at her apologetically. “You too, of course. But Glen was so pleased to have found a brother, keen to get close, make Jager feel like one of the family, and Jager…well, he was kind of aloof at first, as if he was weighing us all up. I wasn’t sure if he really liked any of us—even Glen or his father. I wondered if he had some kind of hidden agenda, but maybe he just needed time to get used to the idea that he had a family.”
“Jager’s never been really close to anyone,” Paige said. She knew exactly what Maddie meant.
“Not even you, when you were married?” Maddie’s eyes widened.
“I thought he was but…some people are not good at relationships.”
“With his background, not surprising. Is that why you broke up?”
“It wasn’t all his fault,” Paige said hastily. “We were both too young for that kind of commitment. And too different.”