by Susan Napier;Kathryn Ross;Kelly Hunter;Sandra Marton;Katherine Garbera;Margaret Mayo
He finally surfaced at half past ten and there were deep lines of strain etched into his face. ‘I’m going to bed,’ he announced abruptly.
Anna had been reading a book while she waited for him, and now she looked up in disappointment. ‘Don’t you even want a drink?’
‘No, nothing.’ But the look he gave her didn’t suggest nothing. It suggested he’d like to make love to her again and a quick heat invaded her limbs. She wanted to say, I’ll come to bed with you, but she knew that the suggestion had to come from him.
It didn’t. He’d gone straight to his room, and here she was unable to sleep for thinking about Oliver, thinking what it would be like to share his bed again, to have him make crazy, passionate love to her every night, the way he used to.
He had proved this afternoon that he found it hard to resist her, so why was he ignoring her now? Did he deeply regret what had happened? Was he castigating himself? Was he still of the opinion that she was after his money?
It was going to be difficult working together with sexual tension like this sparking between them. Had he thought of that when he let his male urges get the better of him? If it was to be an on-off thing, she would rather it had never happened—in fact, she wouldn’t have gone along with it had she known.
Anna was down to breakfast before Oliver, and when he joined her his shadowed eyes suggested that he hadn’t slept much either.
And when they got to the house he carefully busied himself in a separate room. He was making it very obvious that there was going to be no repeat of what had happened yesterday.
When, a short time later, she heard a sound behind her Anna couldn’t stop her heart skipping several beats. It did it automatically whenever he was near. She whirled around with a smile on her face, but her smile faded and her heart crashed dangerously when she saw who stood there.
‘What are you doing here?’ asked Melanie, her blue eyes coldly questioning. ‘Where’s Oliver?’
‘He’s around,’ Anna told her calmly. ‘I’m helping him sort his father’s stuff.’
‘And what gives you that right?’ she demanded haughtily. ‘I thought you only came for Uncle Edward’s funeral. Why are you still here? I sincerely hope you’re not trying to worm your way back into Oliver’s life, because it won’t work. Oliver doesn’t love you any more—if he ever did.’
‘I think what Oliver and I do is none of your business’, retorted Anna, straightening her back and eyeing Melanie coldly. She was relieved when Oliver chose that moment to come into the room because she didn’t relish this type of conversation. She wasn’t up to discussing her husband with his ex-girlfriend. Or was it current girlfriend? She suddenly wasn’t sure.
When Melanie flung herself into his arms and lifted her face expectantly to his, and when Oliver obediently kissed her, a stab of jealousy pierced the shaered pieces of Anna’s heart. St the couldn’t bear to see them together, especially as less than twenty-four hours earlier he’d been making love to her.
Why had she given herself so eagerly? she asked herself. Why hadn’t she remembered Melanie? Why had she let her feelings run away with her? Why hadn’t she been stronger?
The brief kiss over, Melanie pouted delicately. ‘You should have asked me to help you, Oliver. I had no idea you were getting rid of any of Uncle Edward’s things. In fact, I can’t see the point unless—’ she frowned ‘—you’re planning to buy yourself a whole heap of new stuff. Rosemary said that—’
‘Rosemary?’ he interrupted harshly. ‘She’s still hanging around?’
Anna saw the way his eyes narrowed suspiciously, the way his body froze.
‘I don’t know what you mean hanging around. But I did see her the other day,’ Melanie admitted.
‘She’s staying locally?’
‘In Cambridge, I believe,’ she answered. ‘Why, is it important?’
‘Which hotel?’ he snapped, not bothering to answer her question.
‘I don’t know, but we’re having lunch together tomorrow. I could—’
‘No need; I have nothing to say to her.’ But the grimness of his jaw suggested quite the opposite.
Melanie shrugged her narrow shoulders. ‘She’s still pretty worked up about the will.’
‘Is that what she said? Has she asked you to put in a good word for her?’
‘Of course not,’ said Melanie. ‘Don’t fret yourself, Oliver.’
He turned away impatiently. ‘Anna, how about some coffee?’
He was asking her to make coffee for him and Melanie! It was like asking her to accept that they were lovers. Anna wanted to refuse but what good would it do her? Her face was darkly furious, though, as she left the room, and all the while she was out she kept picturing the two of them together.
And her misgivings were justfied when she returned and found them sitting on the leather chester-field. Oliver’s arm was about Melanie’s shoulders and she looked as though she’d been crying. But when she looked at Anna there was a light of triumph in her eyes and it wasn’t hard to see that they’d been crocodile tears.
‘Here we are.’ Anna tried to sound cheerful as she put the tray on the table, but it was all she could do to pour Melanie’s coffee and hand it to her civilly.
And when Oliver announced that he was taking Melanie out for lunch and probably wouldn’t be back, she gave an inward groan of despair. ‘She’s very upset over my father,’ he explained. ‘Coming here has brought back memories.’
I bet, thought Anna. Memories of what she’d once had with Oliver, what she wanted again, what she was going out of her way to get.
‘There’s no need for you to stay, either,’ he said, with a note of concern. ‘You deserve some time to yourself, you’ve been working hard.’
As far as Anna was concerned, it wasn’t work. It had been pleasure simply being in Oliver’s company. She’d begun to hope for something more from their relationship; she’d begun to think they were mending bridges that had once seemed beyond repair, especially after yesterday.
But Melanie had swiftly put paid to that—and, if Melanie was to be believed, she’d been looking after his needs anyway. Perhaps the reason for Oliver making love to her was frustration because the blonde hadn’t been around. He’d been using her as a substitute.
The thought was like a solid punch in the stomach; it almost had her doubling over with pain. ‘Thank you, but I think I’ll stay,’ she said tightly. ‘I have nothing else to do.’
‘No, you can’t do that,’ protested Melanie with surprising vehemence. ‘You need to take time off as well. You know what they say about all work and no play.’
Anna glanced at Oliver and saw him nodding his agreement. Did that mean he thought she was dull? There had certainly been no dullness about their lovemaking yesterday. She had responded uninhibitedly—she’d had no choice—it had been like instantaneous combustion. She’d had no control over her actions. And nor had he.
So what game was he playing?
‘I might. I’ll see,’ she said.
‘You really ought to make some time for yourself,’ declared Melanie firmly.
‘My sentiments entirely,’ added Oliver.
When they had gone, Anna found that she didn’t want to stay after all. She wandered up to the bedroom they’d used but simply looking at the still crumpled sheets aroused a torrent of anger.
All that had driven him had been need. He’d used her. She ought to have realised that last night when he didn’t even kiss her before he went to bed. She smoothed the sheets automatically, resolving never to let herself get into this situation again.
She returned to Weston Lodge but it was Mrs Green’s day off and she didn’t feel like making herself any lunch so she decided it was time to pay her parents a visit—until she remembered that she didn’t have her car, that it was still sitting outside the cottage in Ireland.
Her parents lived in the depths of the countryside on the other side of Cambridge, not even on a bus route. A taxi would be horrendously expensive,
so what other course did it leave her?
There was Edward’s car, of course, tucked in its garage up at the Hall—his Land Rover, too. Why not take one of those? Oliver had said he was going to sell them but he’d done nothing yet and she felt sure he wouldn’t mind. He’d left the keys to the Hall with her and she’d seen the car keys hanging up in the kitchen.
In the end she took the Land Rover, feeling that the Rolls was a little too much for her, but when she got to her parents’ they weren’t in and she cursed her stupidness. She ought to have phoned. Mindless going all that way on the spur of the moment.
It wasn’t her day, she decided. She’d try her brother, and if he wasn’t at his office then she’d—what would she do? Lunch somewhere alone? Go to the cinema? Do what? It was amazing how lost she felt.
During the last few days she’d come to rely on Oliver’s presence, had almost begun to feel secure—in his friendship, if nothing more. Now she wasn’t so sure. Melanie had only to lift her finger and he’d gone running. What did that tell her?
She shook her head to try and clear it of such unwanted thoughts and headed back towards Cambridge.
Chris was in and pleased to see her. ‘I thought you were still in Ireland. I’m about to have a late lunch. Do you want to join me or have you eaten?’
‘It’s what I was banking on,’ she said, giving her brother an extra big hug.
‘Hey, what’s that for? Do I sense a need to talk? Is all well with you and Oliver?’
Anna grimaced, she hadn’t realised that she was giving herself away. ‘I’ll tell you over lunch.’
And she told him the whole sorry story.
‘Oh, Lord,’ he exclaimed. ‘I never realised it would cause this much trouble.’ Chris put down his knife and fork and looked at her anxiously. ‘You have told him what the money was for?’
Anna shook her head.
‘Why not? Heavens, Anna, you can’t put your marriage in jeopardy because of me.’ He shook his head, his navy eyes worried.
‘He wouldn’t listen,’ Anna admitted sadly. ‘He thought the worst. And dammit, Chris, if he can think that of his own wife then it doesn’t say much for the state of our marriage, does it? I thought trust came into these things. Huh!’ she exclaimed contemptuously. ‘He doesn’t trust me any further than he can throw me. Besides, his old girlfriend’s back in his life.’
Anna hadn’t realised exactly how much she was giving away until her brother put his hand on hers across the table. ‘Calm down, sis,’ he said anxiously. ‘I’m sure you must be mistaken. Dawn said she’d never seen a man so much in love as Oliver.’
‘Maybe Oliver was, but Oliver’s not any more,’ she retorted bitterly.
‘You’re sure of that?’
‘Positive.’
‘I still think you should tell him. I’ve had a part payment; I’m back on track and I’ll soon be able to repay the money.’
‘It’s not the point, Chris.’ But how she wished her brother had never asked for help in the first place. It would have saved her so much heartache. On the other hand, it was best she’d found out what Oliver was like sooner rather than later.
She’d heard of girls who had control freaks as husbands, men who demanded to know where every penny was spent, what they’d been doing with their time and who with. Wanting to run their lives for them. Was Oliver like that? Was this the tip of the iceberg? Would things have got worse? Was she well rid of him?
‘I think it’s entirely the point,’ insisted her brother. ‘You’re as unhappy as hell. You’ve changed since I last saw you. You were so vibrant—now look at you. You look like death warmed up. Do Mum and Dad know your marriage is on the rocks?’
‘No,’ she answered with a wry grimace. ‘I’ve just been over there, actually, but they were out.’
‘It will gut them.’
‘I know,’ she said with a heavy sigh. ‘It’s why I’ve kept quiet.’
‘You mean you were hoping it would blow over, that you might get back together?’
‘Something like that.’
‘He’s an idiot if he lets you go.’
‘Maybe Oliver never loved me,’ she said ruefully. ‘His father said he married me on the rebound, I’m beginning to think he was right.’
‘So why did he finish with this other woman?’
Anna’s eyes flashed. ‘The money thing again.’
Chris’s breath hissed out loudly and he shook his head. ‘The man has a complex. No wonder you’re confused. Do you still love him?’
Anna lifted her slender shoulders. ‘I don’t know.’
‘Which means you do. I think you should give him one more chance. Tell him about me, tell him I asked you to keep it a secret, and if that doesn’t work then…’ He spread his hands expansively. ‘Then send him to me. I’ll make him see sense.’
‘But don’t you see, Chris? I don’t want him back on those terms. He should never have doubted me in the first place.’
‘I agree. I’ve met the most wonderful girl in the world and I’d trust her with my life. I really would. I guess that’s true love.’
‘Oh, Chris.’ Anna’s eyes opened wide. ‘You must have been dying to tell me and I’ve been rabbiting on about my own woes. I’m sorry. What’s her name
and where did you meet her? Tell me everything.’
When Anna eventually got home Oliver was waiting for her. His eyes were hard and cold, his whole body as taut as a violin string. ‘Where the hell have you been?’
Anna frowned as she felt a cold shiver run down her spine. The words ‘control freak’ sprang to mind. ‘What does it matter to you?’
‘I see you took my father’s Land Rover.’
‘So that’s the issue, is it?’ she asked with lifted brows. ‘I was supposed to have asked permission.’
‘Now you’re being ridiculous,’ he snapped. ‘You did say you might stay on at the Hall, I couldn’t find you, I was worried.’
Oliver worried! That was a laugh. ‘I’m sorry, but there was no one to ask,’ she tossed coolly. ‘I’ve been prisoner here long enough; I thought it was time I went out.’
‘Prisoner?’ His brows curved into a disbelieving arc.
‘In that I don’t have my car.’
‘I see. I can’t recall you saying that it was an inconvenience.’
And it hadn’t been, up until now, but she wasn’t going to tell him that. ‘I decided to visit my parents. Do you have a problem with that?’
Oliver’s eyes narrowed. ‘How are they?’
Anna shrugged. ‘Actually, they weren’t in. So I had lunch with Chris instead.’
‘The phantom brother?’
Anna didn’t like the sarcasm in his voice and her eyes flashed. ‘The very same.’
‘When am I going to meet him?’
‘I think never, considering our marriage is over,’ she retorted sharply and angrily. She had thought on the way home that perhaps Chris was right and she ought to make Oliver listen to the truth. But his attitude now made her swiftly change her mind. He wouldn’t believe her if she wrote it in blood.
‘That’s a pity. I think Chris and I would have had plenty to talk about.’
‘Like whether I gave the money to him or Tony, is that what you mean?’ she asked caustically, while trying to ignore her fierce swell of unbidden desire.
What was it about Oliver that whenever they argued she felt this insane urge to make love to him? It always happened. Was it the fire in his eyes, the slow burn in his cheeks, the tautness of his body? Whatever, it was doing things to her that shouldn’t be allowed to happen, not any longer.
‘Mmm, Tony,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Have you seen him recently?’
Her eyes shot sparks of fierce anger. ‘You know damn well I haven’t. I’ve been nowhere since I got here.’
His look was disbelieving but for some reason he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he said, ‘Maybe you should keep the Land Rover as a runaround. I hadn’t realised that you felt tied. Why d
idn’t you take the Roller? It would have created much more of an impression.’
‘For whom? There’s no one I want to impress, Oliver.’ She’d had enough of this conversation. ‘How did your lunch with Melanie go?’
He smiled for the first time since she’d got home and Anna felt swift daggers of jealousy. She tried to tell herself that she couldn’t possibly be jealous when she wasn’t in love with Oliver any more, but it made no difference. She was jealous. The green-eyed monster reared its head every time she thought about Oliver and Melanie together.
‘We went to The Riverside. They serve excellent food and—’
‘Yes, I know. You used to take me there,’ she cut in shortly. They had agreed it was their special place—and now he’d taken Melanie. How cruel could he get?
‘So I did,’ he said, with a self-conscious laugh as though he’d just remembered.
‘So where is she now? I expected you to spend the rest of the day with her.’
‘She had other plans.’
Anna thought he sounded disappointed. ‘Have you mended your differences? Are you two an item again?’
‘Why do you ask?’ Dark brows rode high. ‘Does it bother you?’
‘Not in the least,’ she lied. ‘I’m only mildly curious. You don’t have to tell me.’
Nor did he, which piqued her beyond measure.
Mrs Green had prepared everything for their supper; all Anna had to do was grill the chicken breasts and toss the salad. Oliver shut himself in his study and told her to give him a call when it was ready.
She was unprepared, therefore, when she turned around from the sink and found him watching her. Her hand flew subconsciously to her throat. ‘You gave me a fright. How long have you been there?’ For a fraction of a second she’d seen a gleam in those golden eyes, gone in an instant, possibly imagined, but it nevertheless made her jittery inside.
‘Long enough to know that you’d look even better in that overall if you wore nothing underneath.’
Anna had donned one of Mrs Green’s tabards to protect her silk blouse and she had a quick mental image of herself in that alone. It would cover front and back—but from the side…?