by Penny Jordan
‘I own a house in the Cotswolds—a small estate really. I thought you could live there. There’s plenty of space and all the peace and quite you need to work.’
‘In other words, discreetly out of your way,’ she said furiously, watching his mouth thin and his eyes harden as he turned towards her.
‘What are you trying to say?’ he asked her coldly. ‘That you want to share the apartment with me? That you want to share my bed? Was that the price you demanded from Peter Williams for your company? I wonder if Peter was as happy with the bargain as his father? He’s known to have a taste for glamorous blondes,’ he added cruelly, surveying her with open contempt. ‘Hardly your style, but then no doubt his father simply told him to close his eyes and think of Pentatons.’
The sharp sound of her palm connecting with his lean jaw shocked Cassie. She had never hit anyone in anger before in her life, and her face went white as she stared into navy-blue eyes, boring into hers, burning with a heat that made her shiver with fear.
‘If you ever do that again, I promise you I’ll hit you back,’ Joel told her thickly. ‘Apart from the fact that you could have caused an accident, I won’t tolerate a vitriolic woman.’
‘And I won’t tolerate being insulted the way you’ve just insulted me,’ Cassie choked back at him. How dare he suggest what he had just suggested? Her body burned with the humiliation of it.
‘Why all the emotion?’ he queried softly, ‘Is it because you think I could be right?’
Cassie didn’t deign to answer but sat in icy silence as the powerful car ate up the miles. Inside she was crying out in pain but she would die rather than let Joel Howard see one jot of her anguish. As she stared unseeingly through the windscreen in front of her, only one thought occupied her mind, to the exclusion of all others; and that was a burning desire to make him retract his words; to make him look at her and ache with need for her; and that was surely the most ridiculous, pathetic daydream she had indulged in in all her life; Joel Howard would never, ever want a woman like her.
CHAPTER THREE
THEY reached their destination early in the evening, and Cassie had her first glimpse of Howard Court, just as the late spring sun was setting, bathing the Cotswold stone in a soft rose glow, making the house shimmer like a precious jewel in its rich setting.
When Joel had mentioned an estate she hadn’t visualised anything like this. The house wasn’t particularly large, but it was old, and very, very gracious, mellowed by time until it blended with the landscape, an inescapable part of a perfect whole.
The house itself was vaguely Elizabethan; green lawns and climbing roses in bud the first things that caught Cassie’s eye. It was a dream of a house she thought enviously; it conjured up images of a happy family, of security, love and care. She turned to Joel, too bemused to hold back her pleasure and checked as she saw the dark, almost brooding expression in his eyes. Was he having second thoughts about marrying her? Her heart leapt and it was several seconds before she realised it hadn’t jumped in relief.
‘It’s beautiful,’ she said huskily, to cover the shock of her own discovery. ‘Have you…have you owned it long?’
She was making the natural assumption that he had bought the house with the profits from his successful companies, as so many businessmen did, but his mouth curled sardonically as he responded curtly, ‘Personally no, but it’s been in my family since the sixteenth century. I inherited it when my father died, a couple of years ago…’ His face closed up and looked bitter again, and Cassie wondered if perhaps he had been particularly close to the older man and that was why he looked so angry.
‘I brought you here so that you could change.’ He saw her look of surprise and told her coldly, ‘I’ve arranged for our marriage to be performed by our local vicar. Howards have always married from the village church, and although he accepts that we only want a quiet ceremony—I’m afraid I led him to believe our impatience sprang more from mutual desire than from any practical reasons; he will naturally except you to look a little bridelike.’
‘But I haven’t got anything to change into,’ Cassie protested.
‘That’s all taken care of. Come on.’ He stopped the car and got out, coming round to her door. No doubt to prevent her from running off Cassie thought bitterly.
Even when he inserted the key into the front door he retained his grip on her arm, his fingers biting into the tender flesh, heating her skin beneath the jacket of her suit. His proximity did strange things to her senses, bemusing them in a way that puzzled and alarmed her. She could smell the male scent of him, warm and faintly musky but instead of being repelled she found it made her want to move closer to him.
Fortunately before she could give in to the alien emotion they were inside the house, stepping on a polished parquet floor.
Motes of dust danced in the air, and she frowned over the hall’s look of neglect, wondering how Joel could bear to let this perfect gem of a house look anything less than perfect.
‘Upstairs, third on the right,’ he told her curtly, ‘I’ll be waiting outside the door, and there’s no ‘phone so don’t waste your time looking for one. I’ll give you fifteen minutes to get ready and if you aren’t changed in that time, I’ll come in and dress you myself. Understood?’
Yes, Cassie understood all right and she understood too there would be nothing kind in his hands or touch if he was forced to carry out his threat; rather that it would hold all the cruelty of indifference and distaste, and as she preceded him up the stairs she made a mental vow that she would never, ever give Joel Howard any opportunity to touch her; so that she would never be forced to acknowledge the depth of his contemptuous indifference to her.
The bedroom he had given her faced the back of the house, the windows looking down over an enclosed cobbled courtyard. Urns which had once held flowers stood empty and uncared for, echoing the air of neglect that permeated the whole house. It felt unloved Cassie thought curiously, and yet if ever a house cried out for love and care it was this one.
She had the impression that Joel almost resented it, and yet if that was the case why keep the estate; why not sell it?
Puzzling over the strange anomalies apparent in his personality she washed quickly in the en suite bathroom, emerging dressed in her plain cotton bra and briefs to study the outfit laid out across the bed.
As she looked at it pain and rage mingled in her heart. The dress was a soft creamy white, a confection of delicate lace and fragile silk; a dress designed for a girl like the blonde she had seen Joel dining with or the secretary he had sent to spy on her. Which of them had chosen it, she wondered, acknowledging the cruelty of the mind that had picked such a delicate feminine dress for a woman who had no female graces.
Mindful of Joel’s threat she put it on quickly, struggling with the zip which refused to move more than an inch or so above her waist. Temper lent a warm colour to her skin, her hazel eyes more green than golden as she continued to struggle. The silk moulded her body delicately, the ruffles of lace whispering softly as she moved. Some of the pins had escaped from her chignon and strands of hair hung down round her face. Feeling hot and angry she twisted round trying to see what was impeding the closing of the zip. A tiny fragment of fabric seemed to be caught in it, but she could move the fastener neither up nor down and time was running out. A pretty, tiny hat with a provocative veil lay on the bed and she shuddered away from it, all too well able to picture the contrast between that delicately frivolous ornamentation and the heavy frames of her glasses. Impelled by some instinct she couldn’t name, she took them off, and stared blearily at her fuzzy reflection. She was just about to put them on when the door opened inward, and Joel strode in. Without her glasses she couldn’t see his reflection but she could tell he was angry by the taut way he moved.
‘Time’s up,’ he told her in a clipped voice. He came to a halt just in front of her and for once Cassie was glad of her shortsightedness.
It prevented her from seeing the expression of deris
ion she knew must be in his eyes as he studied her.
‘You’re not ready,’ he said at last. ‘Why?’
‘The zip’s stuck.’ Crossly she turned round so that he could see the back of her dress, freezing as she felt the brush of warm fingers against her naked spine. Joel had obviously taken her comment as a request to help her.
His knuckles continued to brush against her skin for what felt like aeons of time. Cassie felt the tiny hairs on her arms stand up as she shivered in reaction to his touch, unaware that she was holding her breath until she felt the zip slide free and she exhaled, making her chest ache.
‘All right now?’ His voice was derisive and as Cassie searched for her glasses and perched them on the end of her nose she saw that he was watching her with a mingling of contempt and a certain knowing something she couldn’t name, but which made her feel increasingly uncomfortable.
‘So you do have some female instincts after all,’ Joel drawled. Although he had closed her zip his hand still rested on her nape.
‘What do you mean?’ Cassie was genuinely puzzled, far too thrown off course by his proximity and her own reactions to him to be her normal analytical self.
‘I mean, my dear, that it’s one of the oldest tricks in the books to invite a man to touch your body under the pretext of needing his help. What I wonder did women use before the invention of zips?’
As he spoke his fingers were trailing down her spine. ‘What exactly was it you wanted from me, Cassie?’ he asked her with cold softness. ‘This?’
His fingers biting into her collar bone forced her to turn and be taken captive by the hard band of his arms, forcing her along the full length of his body.
She tried to squirm away and could not. Chilled by the taunting ‘very proper, and Victorian, but it doesn’t alter anything does it?’ that Joel murmured against her lips as he brushed them with his.
The impact of his mouth against the sensitive skin of her lips was electrifying, stunning her into frozen stillness.
‘Such cool, virginal lips,’ Joel drawled, stroking them with his tongue, ‘has any man ever turned them to fire, I wonder.’ His mouth tugged at her bottom lip, awakening sensations Cassie had never dreamed of experiencing. Her mouth seemed to swell and grow pliantly moist as Joel continued to explore it; coolly and clinically as though he were monitoring an experiment. Reality intruded harshly and Cassie pulled away from him, bitterly angry with herself. How close she had come to melting beneath Joel’s mouth; to betraying the yearning need he aroused in her only she knew, and only she would know she thought desperately. She couldn’t endure the mockery he would exhibit if he knew how close she had been to forgetting why she was in his arms and begging him to kiss her properly. Her face flamed at the narrowness of her escape.
‘So you are human, after all,’ Joel told her indolently, letting her go, ‘and it’s just a rumour that you’ve exchanged your emotions for a computer.’
His insult challenged her to respond; not to let him see the devastating effect he had on her. ‘I simply wondered what it would be like,’ she lied bravely, forcing herself to meet his eyes and to see the narrowed scrutiny with which they explored her.
‘Comparing me to Williams you mean?’ he invited silkily, and Cassie unaware of the baited trap fell straight into it.
‘Yes, that’s right,’ she agreed eagerly, ‘and I much prefer Peter’s kisses.’ She held her breath, determined to make him believe that a comparison between the two of them was all she had had in mind. Even though she had had no thought in her mind of inviting him to kiss her, she didn’t want to tell him that now and risk him questioning why she had allowed him to do so.
‘On so short a sampling?’ His eyebrows rose. ‘You’re putting me on my mettle, Cassie, relegating me to second place like that, and without even allowing me to show you what I can really do. You didn’t really consider that a kiss did you?’ he taunted coming towards her and smiling evilly.
Cassie made to dodge him and cannoned into the foot of the bed, stumbling clumsily. As she fell she lost her glasses and as she bent to retrieve them Joel moved at the same time.
Cassie moaned as she heard glass crunch underfoot. ‘What the…’ Joel swore as he bent down.
‘Sorry about that,’ he said tersely. He glanced at his watch and frowned. ‘We’re going to be late.’
‘My hair!’ Cassie was close to tears. Without her glasses she felt vulnerable and lost. How was she going to tidy her hair if she couldn’t see it?
‘Leave it down,’ Joel advised her, taking matters into his own hands when she objected, and holding her captive as he wrenched the remaining pins out of her hair. Fuzzily Cassie watched him pick up her brush, wincing as he swept it through the tumbled untidyness of her hair.
Her scalp smarted when he had finished and all she could see in the mirror was a pale oval surrounded by a straight dark frame. At least now she couldn’t wear the hat, she thought miserably as Joel grasped her arm. Surely no bride had gone to her wedding more ill-prepared. She wasn’t wearing a scrap of make-up, not even any lipstick, and she felt ill at ease in her beautiful dress, knowing it could only draw attention to the paucity of her own attractions.
Joel said nothing as he marched her out to the car. It only took ten minutes for him to drive into the village, and park outside the church. No one was about as they walked under the arched gateway and through the graveyard. The door creaked as Joel pushed it open and Cassie froze as she was enveloped in inky blackness, fighting back panic. Another door opened and they were in the church, faint rays of light filtering in through the ornate windows.
‘I’m sorry we’re a little late,’ Joel was apologising to the smiling vicar who approached them. Cassie could tell he was smiling by the tone of his voice.
Joel introduced her and she made some inarticulate response, all too aware of the cruel pressure of Joel’s fingers on her hand.
The service was a simple one and in other circumstances could have been indescribably beautiful Cassie thought bleakly. After all what more was needed by two people pledging their lives to one another other than each other, a minister to perform the service and the peace and sanctity that pervaded this small church.
When it was over and Joel’s ring weighed heavy and cold on her finger all Cassie could feel was a light-headed sense of relief. She was married to Joel Howard and some tiny part of her took pleasure in that knowledge. Mindful of the impossible dreams of her teenage years Cassie tried to drive the thought away; to deny its existence forcing herself to believe that her relief lay in the fact that the marriage would be a very temporary one. She didn’t want to analyse her emotions any further, nor to question why her lips should so clearly remember the touch of Joel’s against them. It was dangerous to investigate some things too closely.
She came out of her reverie to hear the vicar saying, ‘Mrs Jensen would like you both to have supper with us.’
She saw Joel frown and then heard him agree. ‘You’ll be making your home down here then?’ the vicar asked Joel as they walked from the Church to the vicarage.
‘Cassie will certainly live down here,’ Joel agreed, glancing in her direction. Cassie couldn’t see his expression but she suspected it would be entirely in keeping with that expected of a newly married man, and fear clutched at her heart. He was so adept at concealing his feelings, did anyone ever really know what they were? The depth of her instinctive knowledge about him still had the power to surprise and alarm her, and she was unaware of the tension in her face as they walked into the vicarage, and were introduced to the vicar’s wife.
‘Cassie is rather shortsighted,’ she heard Joel explain on her behalf as she walked into a doorway. ‘She didn’t want to wear her glasses during the service.’
‘You’ll have to try contact lenses,’ Mrs Jensen told her cheerfully, accepting Joel’s statement at face value. ‘I find them invaluable. Come and sit down. You must be hungry. Are you going away?’ she asked delicately when they were all sitting down
and tea had been poured.
‘I’m afraid we don’t have time right now,’ Joel sounded charmingly wry. ‘Cassie is working on a new game, and I’m up to my eyes in research. In fact I’ve got to go back to London tomorrow, unfortunately.’ He was looking at her, Cassie knew, but she refused to return his look. Her fingers curled into her palm. Did he really believe he could deceive people into thinking he actually cared about her? The Jensens weren’t blind. They could see how plain she was.
‘Oh dear,’ Mary Jensen sympathised. ‘What a shame, but you’ll have plenty to occupy yourself with won’t you with the house being empty for so long. If you need any help organising a cleaner do let me know. There are several women in the village who’d be glad of the extra money.
‘It’s good to have you back, Joel,’ she added warmly. ‘I know what a blow Andrew’s death was to you, and then when your father died we wondered if you might perhaps sell up.’
Waves of bitterness and anger seemed to invade the space between Joel and herself and Cassie turned to him in confused surprise, unable to see his face, but feeling his pain as though it were a tangible thing. Who was Andrew? And why should his death have been a blow to Joel? There was so much about him she didn’t know, she thought frustratedly.
‘I wanted to, but my father made me promise I wouldn’t. Being the younger son I never expected to inherit. I never wanted to inherit. I don’t have Andrew’s feeling for the land.’
‘But you will have children who may inherit it,’ Mary Jensen said softly.
Cassie could sense the other woman’s sympathy for Joel, just as she could feel his frustrated anger. So Andrew had been Joel’s brother. How had he died, she wondered. Had he and Joel not got on; was that the reason for Joel’s almost palpable bitterness?
Half an hour later they made their goodbyes, walking in silence back to the parked car.
She wasn’t going to be the one to break the silence Cassie told herself firmly, refusing to look at Joel as he started the engine. There were a dozen questions she was dying to ask but she wouldn’t utter a single one of them.