Mistresses: Bound with Gold / Bought with Emeralds

by Susan Napier;Kathryn Ross;Kelly Hunter;Sandra Marton;Katherine Garbera;Margaret Mayo

  Anna got out of the car and stood and watched. She loved the cottage even more the second time. It was perfect. How would they ever find anything else like it?

  Oliver came back. ‘You’re not going to believe this,’ he said. ‘But that guy’s been thinking of selling for some time. It’s too big for him, since his wife died, but he can’t face the thought of a stream of strangers traipsing through. If we want it it’s ours. He intends to go and live with his daughter in Essex.’

  ‘Oh, Oliver!’ Anna couldn’t stop herself from flinging her arms around him. ‘Does he mean it?’

  ‘Absolutely. He said we can go inside and look now, if you like.’

  ‘I don’t care what it’s like inside,’ she said dismissively. ‘I know it will be perfect. I can’t believe we’re so lucky.’

  Oliver held her tightly against him, smiling indulgently into her glowing face. ‘I’ve not seen you this happy since you came home.’

  How it happened, she didn’t know, but the next second Oliver’s mouth possessed hers. It took her breath away, it sent a spiral of sensation through her entire body. And although she knew she ought to push him away, slap his face even, she somehow couldn’t do it.

  She let the kiss happen—in full view of the owner of the house. She let Oliver’s mouth seduce hers into responding. She felt an elation that had been missing in her life for a long time.

  It was a deeply satisfying kiss, a kiss that made her whole body throb and made her realise that she was punishing herself by shutting Oliver out. And when Oliver abruptly let her go she felt bereft.

  She expected him to apologise, to declare that he had overstepped the mark, but he didn’t. Instead he looked inordinately pleased with himself as he took her hand and led her up to the house.

  Inside was as good as she’d expected, a well-proportioned living room and lounge, a dining room and a study, a kitchen to die for, and four bedrooms, two of them en-suite. It was perfect.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked the owner.

  ‘It’s fantastic,’ said Anna. ‘Exactly what we want. I can’t believe we’ve been so lucky. Do you really want to sell?’

  ‘I’d get out tomorrow if I could.’

  ‘I’ll see my solicitor first thing in the morning,’ declared Oliver, and he held out his hand and they shook on the deal.

  ‘I’m happy to let it go to two young people so obviously in love. It does my heart good to see you.’ He was a white-haired, kindly-looking man. ‘You remind me of my wife and myself when we were first married. We were kissing and cuddling the whole time. I hope you’ll be as happy here as we were.’

  Oliver’s arm came about Anna’s shoulders. ‘I don’t think there’s any doubt about that.’

  Anna felt a fraud but she lifted her face with the expected smile and Oliver kissed her. A brief kiss, this time, just a brushing of their lips for the old man’s benefit, but it set her alight again and she wondered whether she was going to be able to keep up the game against Oliver for much longer.

  ‘Do you like it as much as I do?’ she asked when they returned to the car.

  ‘No doubt about it,’ he said, putting the key into the ignition and starting the engine. ‘It will be a fresh start for both of us.’

  But before he drove away he turned to her and said hopefully, ‘Did your response to my kiss mean that you’ve finally forgiven me?’

  Anna steeled her heart and shook her head. She couldn’t give him false hopes. ‘It was a moment of joy because of the cottage, nothing more.’

  Brows lifted in disbelief. ‘It didn’t feel like nothing.’

  ‘I’m not saying that my feelings for you have died, Oliver.’ Far from it; they ran rampant all the time she and Oliver were together. ‘But after the way you treated me, do you really expect me to jump back into your arms so quickly?’ Her eyes flashed a vivid and scathing green. ‘Actually, it might never happen. Having your own husband accuse you of stealing takes some getting over. Shall we go?’

  He didn’t say another word; he swung away and set the car in motion. A glance at his profile revealed a set jaw and beetling brows, and his grip on the steering wheel turned his knuckles white. Serves him right, she thought. He shouldn’t throw stones without expecting to get hurt himself.

  They didn’t go straight home, as she’d expected; instead, Oliver took her to one of his favourite riverside restaurants for lunch. Anna no longer had bouts of morning sickness and was able to once more enjoy her food, so it was a treat to be taken out.

  Fog hung over the water but there were people walking along the river bank wrapped warmly in scarves and hats and Anna watched them from their table near the window.

  At first Oliver was quiet, deep in his own thoughts, making Anna wonder whether she had been unnecessarily hard on him. But why should she let him get away with what he had done? She was prepared to be friends for the sake of the baby, but no more, and it was best he knew that.

  The fact that she was cutting off her nose to spite her face didn’t enter into it. She could cope with having no one to kiss and cuddle her, no one to share her bed, no one to send her mindless with pleasure. Couldn’t she?

  She didn’t like the answer her body gave, but sex wasn’t the be-all and end-all of life. What if she hadn’t got a husband or a boyfriend? She’d cope then, wouldn’t she? Yes, but there was a difference when she shared a house with a man who had stolen her heart the first moment she set eyes on him.

  ‘What are you thinking?’

  Anna looked from the river to Oliver. She met the intenseness of his golden eyes and felt a dance of fire in her belly. ‘Not much. This and that.’

  ‘Would this and that be you and me, by any chance?’ One dark eyebrow quirked knowingly.

  Anna gave an inward groan. ‘Maybe,’ she acknowledged with a dismissive shrug of her slender shoulders.

  ‘Are you regretting coming back to me?’

  ‘No.’ It was a tiny no, escaping swiftly before she had chance to think about it. But she didn’t look at him, she played with her fork instead, moving a piece of potato around her plate, smashing it into tiny pieces. ‘Not entirely.’

  ‘Is there a chance that we’ll get back on to the level that we so much enjoyed before I put my foolish foot in it?’

  Still Anna didn’t look at him, though she knew her answer would shape their future. It seemed as though he was beginning to think there was no hope. And did she really want that? Did she want to split up from him, go their separate ways, share their baby, toss it from one to the other over the years?

  Her answer was most definitely no.

  ‘I think we might, eventually,’ she said in an almost whisper. But it wasn’t now. She wasn’t yet ready. How long it would take, she didn’t know.

  Oliver reached across the table and took her hand. ‘If there is hope, then I can wait. Otherwise, I would prefer we ended it now.’ Anna looked across and saw the pain in his eyes, the stark pain that was cutting right into him, and she almost gave in. But he needed to learn his lesson. She had to be hard for the sake of her future.

  The fact that he’d apologised a thousand times—swore he would never accuse her of anything like that again—didn’t altogether appease her. Words were easy; it was actions that counted.

  So a few more weeks, perhaps, maybe even until the baby was born. But could she live with him for that long and still sleep in separate rooms? Already some of her resentment was wearing off; her traitorous body was reminding her of the fantastic times they’d had together, could have again.

  ‘Anna?’

  She realised that Oliver was still waiting for her answer. And, judging by the shadow darkening his face, by the rigid jut of his jaw, it looked as though he’d made up his mind that she wanted to leave.

  ‘I’ll stay with you, Oliver,’ she said, her tone still quiet, ‘but I need more time. I won’t be rushed. If you do you’ll drive me away.’

  A great big smile chased the shadows from his face, his golden eyes lit up,
and his hand tightened over hers. ‘You won’t regret this, Anna, I promise.’

  She smiled faintly and gave her head an infinitesimal shake, as though not entirely sure of it herself. Tingles ran through her, congregating in a disturbing heat in the pit of her stomach. And all because he was holding her hand!

  During the rest of the meal Oliver was his normal, cheerful, conversational self, and Anna found herself more relaxed than she had been in a long time. Perhaps the new house would be the answer.

  Gone would be all the old memories, the old heartache. They would start again, and she’d have plenty to do arranging things, once they moved in. It didn’t really need decorating but it would be nice to stamp her own personality on it.

  ‘I was just thinking about the house,’ she said. ‘I still can’t believe how lucky we are. It’s so much of a coincidence that Mr Jones wanted to sell.’

  ‘It must mean we were meant to have it,’ Oliver claimed, eyes glowing with pleasure. ‘Fate looked down on you that day, my sweetheart. It made you drive down that particular lane and made you stop and look at that particular cottage.’

  Anna laughed. ‘Oliver, I didn’t realise you believed in such things.’

  ‘I don’t, as a rule, but what other explanation is there?’ he asked, spreading his hands palms upward. ‘What is to be will be—isn’t that what they say?’

  ‘Will Mrs Green come with us?’

  ‘If you’d like her to. The idea of putting her out of a home and a job has been worrying me.’

  ‘She’s constantly talking to me about the baby,’ said Anna. ‘I think she’s looking forward to helping me look after it.’

  ‘It?’ asked Oliver with mock indignance. ‘You’re calling my son an it?’

  ‘Your son might be a daughter,’ she pointed out.

  He grinned. ‘If she’s as adorable as you, I’ll be quite content. We’ll have a boy next time.’

  ‘And exactly how many children are you planning to have, Mr Langford?’ But Anna didn’t really mind this talk about babies. She liked to see Oliver happy. She hadn’t realised how unhappy he had been, these last few weeks. She’d been so wrapped up in her own hurt that she’d hardly spared a thought for what he was going through.

  ‘Oh, at least four,’ he said airily, then raised a questioning brow. ‘Of course, it all depends on whether I’m let back into your bed in time.’

  Anna didn’t answer that one, but she smiled as she sliced off a piece of tender lamb, dipping it into the delicious redcurrant sauce before popping it into her mouth.

  Oliver watched her every move and when a speck of sauce dripped off the fork on to her chin he swiftly leant across the table and stroked it away with his finger. He then offered her his finger to suck away the offending drop.

  At one time, Anna would have complied. They would have turned the whole event into a highly arousing sensual act. But although she was tempted, she wasn’t quite up to that yet. He was rushing her. So she shook her head and Oliver, his lips twisting in wry disappointment, sucked his finger himself.

  His eyes never left hers, though. He let her see that he was still getting pleasure out of tasting her drop of redcurrant sauce.

  A tiny incident, and yet one that remained in Anna’s mind for the rest of the day. In fact, this was the most enjoyable day she’d had in a long time.

  After lunch they went for a drive and it was dark when they arrived home. She was laughing over something Oliver had said, wondering at the same time how she would be able to part from him when it was time for bed. They had shared so much today that she didn’t want to let him go.

  But her smile faded, and so did Oliver’s, when they discovered a police car pulled up outside the house.

  ‘What on earth—?’ he exclaimed as he jumped out of the car and hurried forward.

  Anna swiftly followed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  OLIVER and Anna found Mrs Green entertaining two policemen in the kitchen. A teapot and a plate with one piece of shortbread and a few crumbs left on it was in front of them. They looked almost disappointed to be interrupted.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Oliver, looking questioningly from one to the other.

  ‘Mr Oliver Langford?’ enquired the senior of the officers.

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘It’s about Rosemary Langford—your mother, I believe?’

  Oliver’s eyes narrowed. ‘I think you’d better come into my study.’

  Anna wanted to follow but didn’t feel she had the right, so she stayed behind with the housekeeper. ‘What do they want? Did they say?’

  Mrs Green pursed her lips. ‘They wouldn’t tell me. They’ve only been here about five minutes. Soon made short work of my shortbread, they did. One said he’d like the recipe for his wife.’

  ‘Do you think anything’s happened to Oliver’s mother?’ asked Anna worriedly.

  ‘Can’t say,’ answered the housekeeper, and it was clear by her expression that she didn’t really care. Rosemary Langford was Mrs Green’s least favourite person.

  It wasn’t long before Anna heard Oliver showing the policemen out. She went straight to him. ‘What’s wrong? Is your mother ill?’

  ‘No,’ he answered fiercely. ‘She’s at the station. She’s been arrested.’

  ‘What?’ Anna looked at him in wide-eyed shock. ‘Why? What’s she done?’

  Oliver sucked in his cheeks as he appeared to be making a conscious decision how much to tell her.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘It’s your business. If you don’t want to tell me, then—’

  ‘I do want to tell you. I was wondering how to. But there is no way round it without putting myself in a bad light.’

  Anna frowned. ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘Rosemary stole the jewellery.’

  ‘Oh!’ For some reason, her legs grew weak and she groped for the chair behind her. No wonder Oliver had hesitated about telling her. He must feel even more of a first class fool now.

  ‘Did she take it the night she stayed there, do you think?’ she asked, a further puzzled frown drawing her fine brows together. It really was a disturbing matter. ‘The night of your father’s funeral?’

  ‘No.’ Oliver spoke very definitely. ‘I saw them in the safe after that.’

  ‘So, how did she do it?’

  ‘That is something I intend to find out,’ he answered grimly. ‘I’m going to the police station right now. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Don’t wait up.’

  But Anna couldn’t go to bed without knowing what was happening and when Oliver finally came home she was curled up on a chair in the sitting room with an open book on her lap, even though she wasn’t reading.

  Instead she’d been daydreaming, thinking about their future. In a month’s time it would be Christmas—their first Christmas together. They wouldn’t have moved by then, but next year they’d be well and truly settled in their new cottage and they’d have their baby to buy presents for. And hopefully all their troubles would be behind them.

  Oliver looked tired and drained and surprised to see her still up.

  ‘Can I get you a drink?’ she asked. ‘Mrs Green’s gone to bed.’

  But Oliver shook his head. ‘You’ve had a long day. Shouldn’t you be in bed also?’

  ‘I wouldn’t have been able to sleep without hearing about Rosemary. What’s happened to her? Has she been charged?’

  ‘No.’ Oliver’s lips were tight and grim as he sank down into the other armchair. Wearily, he stretched out his legs and, putting his head back, he looked at the ceiling.

  ‘I couldn’t let them do it to her.’

  Because, after all, she was his mother. ‘So they’ve let her go?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And that’s the end of it? You’ve got the jewellery back.’

  ‘Not yet, but I will do.’

  ‘You’ve spoken to Rosemary?’

  ‘Briefly,’ he admitted. ‘I’m going to see her again in the m
orning.’

  ‘How did she manage to get into the house?’ asked Anna, her mind working feverishly. ‘Did she creep in while we were working upstairs?’

  ‘I know none of the details yet. All I know is that I couldn’t let them jail her. God knows why. She did me no favours, but—’

  ‘It’s because you’re a decent and honorable man, Oliver Langford,’ she told him quietly.

  He sat up straight then and looked at her. ‘You really mean that?’

  ‘I guess I do,’ she said, as if finding it surprising herself, ‘but I’m still not rushing things.’

  ‘I understand.’ His expression was both sorrowful and hopeful. He stood up and came to her, and he pulled her to her feet and held her against him. There was nothing passionate about it. Like two friends greeting each other after a long absence.

  Anna closed her eyes and let the warmth of him seep into her, the strength of him hold her upright, and the clean, familiar, masculine smell of him assault her nostrils.

  It was a brief hug, disappointingly brief. And yet it was right that it should be so, because feelings were already being awoken inside her. Feelings she had clamped down, that were supposed to stay there until she gave them permission to flood back to life.

  ‘Go to bed now, Anna,’ he muttered, stroking a stray strand of hair from her brow with an incredibly gentle finger. ‘Sleep well, my darling.’

  Anna wanted to ask if he was going to bed too but, afraid that he might interpret it as an invitation, she headed for the door, turning as she went through it to give him a sad smile. ‘I’m sorry about your mother.’

  The following day when Oliver went to see Rosemary, Anna took the opportunity to go up to the Hall to have a last look around.

  All of Edward’s personal belongings had now been sorted and what needed to be got rid of had gone. Everything was ready for the sale. There was even a middle-aged couple very interested in it. Strangely, Anna felt sad that it would soon pass out of the Langford family.

  And yet she could understand Oliver wanting to have nothing further to do with it. Her own childhood memories were so happy that she found it hard to imagine any father treating his son the way Edward had treated Oliver.