by Penny Jordan
And yet there had been one moment when he touched her when she had sensed in him a purely masculine need to subdue her, to make her want him and respond to him. She had been imagining things, Cassie told herself bitterly. Why on earth should a man like Joel Howard want a woman like her; a woman who he knew no other man had ever wanted. That knowledge had been there in his mocking description of her as a virgin.
She had rubbed her skin until it glowed, too engrossed in what she was doing to stop, but now as she let the towel drop and remembered that her clothes were in the bedroom Cassie forced herself to study the full-length reflection of her nude body, she could see in the bathroom’s floor to ceiling mirror.
Voluptuous Joel had said, and Cassie shuddered as she studied her breasts, full and gently rounded, different now somehow. Just for a moment she was overwhelmed with an intense need to punish him for what he had made her realise about herself and her sexuality; and the best punishment would be to make him want her as she had wanted him, to torment him and make him suffer the same humiliation she had had to endure; that of knowing herself aroused by someone who had not the slightest desire for her. Grimacing at herself she unlocked the bedroom door. Joel must have been back while she was in the bathroom because her suitcase lay on the floor. She must be mad to even dream that she could make Joel want her she told herself as she took out clean underclothes, frowning slightly over their serviceable plainness for the fist time in her life, sparing more than a brief glance for the sensible white cotton. No doubt Joel’s women adorned themselves in silk and lace… Pushing aside a too vivid image of his blonde girlfriend adorned in just such articles Cassie concentrated on getting dressed.
As she made her way downstairs she heard a ‘phone ring. It was answered quickly, no doubt by Joel. One door in the hallway stood slightly open and Cassie headed towards it automatically, no thought of eavesdropping in her mind until she heard Joel saying angrily, ‘And I’ve told you, Fiona, my marriage stands.’ There was a tense silence and then he spoke again. ‘My reasons for marrying are none of your business.’
So he hadn’t told his girlfriend the truth, Cassie reflected as she moved away in the direction of the kitchen. Suddenly for no good reason she felt a spear of tremulous excitement pierce through her, swiftly stilled as her mind challenged her heart. ‘Do you think he could ever really want you?’ it demanded mockingly. Surely she had learned in her teens just how unattractive she was to men, Cassie asked herself as she started to make some coffee. Surely she wasn’t stupid enough to indulge in impossible daydreams of Joel Howard? He would never look at her with desire in his eyes; never want her as he had made her want him, and she might as well accept that fact.
CHAPTER FOUR
THAT morning the ‘phone barely stopped ringing. When it came to getting the right sort of publicity Joel was a genius Cassie reflected wryly, watching him answer it for the umpteenth time and give the listening reporter the by now familiar story about how they had met and fallen in love.
Listening to him and imagining how it might have been were his fabrications true Cassie felt the stirrings of an idea deep inside her. A mirthless laugh trembled on her still faintly swollen lips. How ironic it would be if the idea she could feel taking form in her mind right now should turn out to be her most successful game. It would be a challenge to chart the course of a game through the hazards of falling in love. Leaving Joel to his telephone calls she went upstairs to her room and started making notes.
‘Cassie?’
The curt inflection in Joel’s voice brought her back to reality. ‘There’s no point in sulking up here,’ he continued brusquely. ‘We might be invaded by the Press this afternoon. Remember you’re supposed to be a glowingly happy bride.’
‘Whose bridegroom couldn’t even be bothered to take her away on honeymoon,’ she queried lightly. ‘What will the Press make of that do you suppose?’
‘They’ll make of it what they’re told. Namely that business commitments prevent us from getting away right now but that later I’ll be taking you away somewhere suitably romantic.’ He saw the colour leave her face and added tauntingly, ‘How does that appeal to your logical mind, Cassie? Would you, do you suppose, succumb to the lure of a tropical island paradise?’
‘I’ve always believed that when one is truly in love and loved in return, surroundings aren’t important,’ she told him coolly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the betraying thud of her heart.
‘How romantic—and how unexpected.’ His eyes narrowed challengingly. ‘Tell me, Cassie, have you ever been in love…and loved in return?’
Oh how she longed for the face-saving ability to lie, but she couldn’t, her baldly unequivocal ‘No,’ falling into the tense silence of the room.
‘Your logical little mind wouldn’t let you I suppose.’
Cassie gripped her fingers into tightly balled fists, almost hating him for tormenting her in this way. He must know how slender the possibility was of anyone falling in love with her. She was too plain; too dull and far, far too clever. She had learned that much at school and had those lessons reinforced by her father, who had warned her that she would have to be able to make her own way through life; that she would have to be independent.
‘As I have to spend the next six months in this house, I’d like your permission to hire someone to help me to clean it,’ Cassie told him, completely changing the subject and turning away from him so that he wouldn’t be able to read in her face how much she was already entranced by the house, and how she longed with every deeply feminine instinct she possessed to turn it back into the home she sensed it had once been.
Anger, and bitter pain clashed in his eyes for a moment before he replied and Cassie thought he was going to refuse, but in the end he simply said tersely, ‘Organise whatever you like. I should have got rid of this place when I inherited it, but I promised my father I wouldn’t.’
‘It’s beautiful and yet you seem to hate it,’ Cassie murmured bravely, wondering how he would react to her words. He was a man who deeply resented any attempts to get close to him, she had discovered that, and she doubted that even his girlfriends knew more about him than he wanted them to know.
‘I grew up knowing that Andrew would inherit it. When you can’t have something or someone you love you have to put up barriers against wanting them or endure agonising pain.’ He wasn’t really seeing her Cassie realised, but talking almost to himself, looking back into the past, his voice suddenly harsh as he added. ‘When I look at this house I can’t help remembering how I came by it…’
‘You must have loved your brother very much.’ She said it with soft sympathy, unprepared for the bitter, dark glitter that entered his eyes.
‘As a child there were times when I hated him—hated him for being the elder, for being our mother’s favourite. Now do you understand why I loathe this place? Every time I look at it I remember all the times as a child when I wished Andrew unborn.’ His mouth twisted bitterly, the mask of indifferent contempt he habitually wore slipping back into place, his eyes shuttered, as though he resented her for letting him betray such intensely personal emotions.
As an only child, Cassie didn’t know what to say; she knew that sibling rivalry was a common affliction of childhood, but sensed that to say as much to Joel would only draw his contemptuous bitterness down on her head.
‘In my mother’s time every room in the house seemed to be full of flowers, laugher and sunshine. Andrew and I were away at school and I used to long to come back. That was before I discovered it was all a sham; that my mother had a lover.’
Remembering that he had said he had found them in bed together and that his mother was responsible for his brother’s death Cassie kept quiet.
‘Have you anything better to wear than that?’ Joel asked abruptly grimacing disdainfully at her dull beige skirt and matching blouse. ‘We’re supposed to be newly married remember? If the Press do arrive they’ll expect to find you radiant; dressed to please your bridegroom.’
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br /> ‘I’m so sorry you don’t approve of my clothes,’ Cassie retorted, angered by his contempt. ‘Unfortunately they weren’t chosen with you in mind.’
‘Me or any other man,’ he agreed tautly. ‘My God, why do you insist on covering yourself in these drab garments?’ His fingers flicked at the unflattering fullness of her skirt, chosen because Cassie believed it concealed the narrowness of her hips, so disproportionate in her view to the full curves of her breasts. ‘They make you look…’
‘Even plainer than I already am?’ she challenged bitterly. ‘I realise that I don’t measure up to your usual standards of female pulchritude, but you should have considered that when you forced me into this marriage,’ she flung at him.
‘What are you trying to prove?’ he demanded, his mouth twisting sardonically. ‘That brains are just as exciting as beauty? You were engaged to Peter Williams. What did you and he do when you were alone? Exchange computer data?’
It was so near the truth that Cassie almost hated him, but his mention of Peter reminded her that she still had the latter’s ring. That would have to be returned, and she would have to write to Peter in explanation. What explanation she asked herself, sighing as she realised that she would have to pretend to him that she and Joel were deeply in love. Faint colour stung her skin as she remembered the looks Peter had cast her occasionally when he thought she wasn’t looking; distasteful, resigned looks. Like Joel, Peter favoured pretty, feminine blondes.
‘Now what are you thinking?’
‘I’m thinking about Peter,’ Cassie replied. ‘I’ll have to get in touch with him, explain…’
‘That I coerced you into marriage to prevent his father from getting his hands on your company. Oh no. When you see or talk to Peter Williams, I fully intend to be there. You persist in seeing him as your white knight, don’t you, Cassie? But in reality he was going to sell you down the river. His father had already picked out the executive who was going to take over your company.’
‘No.’ Cassie’s denial was a sharp exclamation of pain. ‘No, I was going to retain full control.’
Joel’s smile was taunting. ‘You are living in cloud cuckoo land aren’t you? Ralph Williams was desperate to get control of your company, and there was no way he was going to allow you to remain in control.’
‘As desperate as you are?’ Cassie challenged quickly. ‘At least as Peter’s wife I would have had a proper husband…’
The moment the reckless words were uttered Cassie regretted them. Lean fingers gripped her wrist, exerting almost bruising pressure, an expression of anger so intense tightening Joel’s facebones that she flinched. ‘And you wanted that so desperately that you were prepared to buy him?’ he demanded through closed teeth. ‘Where’s your pride, Cassie? Surely you think more of yourself than to…’ He broke off and swore, startling her with his vehemence. For a moment she had almost believed that he considered she was too good for Peter Williams. Her imagination playing tricks on her again she thought tiredly as he released her, frowning over the renewed ring of the telephone.
Later that afternoon, as Joel had prophesied they received a visit from the Press. Cassie hated posing for the photograph they requested. Even the popular non-financial press were represented. Their romance would make a good public interest story, they told Cassie who was mentally flinching away from their curiosity, feeling sure that they must be doubting that Joel could ever have fallen in love with someone like her.
One of the reporters might almost have picked up on her train of thought, Cassie thought moments later as he questioned, ‘Surely, Mr Howard, you’ll benefit doubly from this marriage? With a successful company like Cassietronics brought under your umbrella, your investors will have renewed faith in you.’
‘That’s quite true,’ Joel agreed with a brief smile, ‘but there is one reason and one reason alone why I married my wife, and she knows what that is.’ He turned to Cassie and picked up her hand, conveying her tense fingers to his lips. Anger and desire fought a tumultuous battle inside her as spears of pleasure shot along her veins from her fingertips. Joel had no right to use her in this way her mind cried out in protest; he was deliberately and callously exerting the sensual pressure he knew she was vulnerable to, using her vulnerability for his own purposes.
When the reporters had gone, Cassie felt limp and exhausted. So much in her life had changed in such a short space of time. It shocked her to hear Joel saying that he had already made arrangements to re-let the lease of her flat. ‘For six months only of course…I’m going back to London tonight, I’ll clear the rest of your stuff out tomorrow and bring it down here.’
‘I’d prefer to do that myself,’ Cassie told him coldly.
‘Oh no, you’re staying here, where I can keep an eye on you…’
‘Living the life of a nun,’ Cassie said bitterly. ‘While you lead one as a bachelor in London. I hope whoever you’re seeing tonight is more understanding of your married status than the one you saw last night.’
His cruel, ‘Careful, you’re beginning to sound like a real wife,’ hurt her. ‘Surely you can’t be jealous, my heart’s darling?’ he added tauntingly.
‘Jealous?’ Cassie forced herself to sound uncaring. ‘No one with any sense would be jealous of the purely physical involvement you have with your women, Joel. I don’t believe you’re capable of any real emotion.’
She held her breath as she watched him, knowing the unconsidered words were true and wondering how he would react to them. Strangely enough after an initial tightening of his mouth all he said was, ‘Your innocence is showing, Cassie. Physical satisfaction can be a lot more pleasurable than emotional trauma. Don’t wait up for me,’ he added tormentingly as he sauntered out of the room.
It was an hour later when he left. Going upstairs on her way to her room as he drove away Cassie caught the faint scent of his cologne, spicy and masculine. His room was opposite hers and she lingered by the door, hesitating before giving in to the temptation to push it open.
His room was the same size as hers, but furnished so spartanly it might almost have been the cell of a monk. The large bed was covered in a dark brown spread. The walls were bare, the carpet plain. It was a coldly austere room, an empty room, she thought wonderingly, the room of a man who suffered torments other people knew nothing about.
‘Looking for something?’ The smoky voice behind her made her jump guiltily, bright patches of colour staining her face as she swung round and saw Joel standing behind her, hands in his pockets as he surveyed her with mocking amusement.
She hadn’t heard him come back, and for a brief moment thought perhaps he had changed his mind about going out. ‘I forgot this,’ he told her shattering her daydream as he picked up a leather blouson jacket from a chair.
Long after he had gone Cassie’s skin burned from the humiliation of being discovered standing gazing at his room like a moon-struck teenager. He aroused emotions inside her she couldn’t analyse; emotions which ranged from a fiercely bitter resentment, to an almost maternal compassion. No one had ever touched so many chords inside her so deeply in her life, and she wished with all her heart that Joel Howard had not been the one to do so.
* * *
JOEL HADN’T RETURNED in the morning by the time she had finished breakfast and so Cassie decided to walk down to the Vicarage and take Mrs Jensen up on her offer of help.
She found the vicar’s wife in her garden. She smiled warmly at Cassie and said teasingly, ‘No bridegroom this morning?’
‘Joel had to go to London last night—on business,’ Cassie told her, hoping she wasn’t colouring up. ‘I came to see you about getting some help in the house. It looks so sad and neglected at the moment.’
‘Yes, it’s a house that responds well to a woman’s love and care,’ Mrs Jensen agreed, looking shrewdly at Cassie. ‘I’m glad Joel didn’t sell it. I sometimes think he’s torn between loving it and hating it.’
‘He feels guilty about inheriting it,’ Cassie told her, fe
eling sure that the vicar’s wife had already guessed this. ‘Deep down inside I think he does love it.’
‘Yes, so do I. As a child he always felt things far more deeply than Andrew. Andrew was his father all over again, stoical, not very imaginative, a kind man, but not one who could ever really stir a woman’s passions.’ She glanced thoughtfully at Cassie. ‘Has Joel told you about his mother?’
‘He told me that she left his father,’ Cassie said carefully.
‘Yes, poor Miranda.’ Her sympathy for Joel’s mother caught Cassie off-guard. She would have expected the other woman to be more disapproving.
‘She should never have married Gerald, but her grandmother pushed her into it. She was orphaned during the war, and her grandmother had old-fashioned ideas. Gerald was ten years older than Miranda when they married, and already settled into middle age. Some men are like that aren’t they?’ She sighed. ‘I was one of her bridesmaids. She and I were at school together. It was through her that I met Tom. At first she was happy enough with the house, and then the children when they came along, but she had gone straight from school into marriage, she hadn’t really lived and she was a woman who cried out for life,’ Mrs Jensen told Cassie softly. ‘She was so pretty; so vividly alive, and very, very popular. She met Nico when he came over here on business. At first she fought terribly hard against the attraction, but she got no support from Gerald; he never really treated her like a desirable woman. She was his wife, the mother of his sons, and that was all there was to it. I couldn’t blame her when she left him. Really they should never have married.’
‘Joel feels terribly bitter about her,’ Cassie said quietly.