Lovestorm (Harlequin Treasury 1990's)

by Jennifer Taylor

  He was gone before she could stop him, before she could find her voice to ask him what he had meant, gone before the last fragile barrier crumbled and the truth filled her heart and mind. She loved Jacob. Deep down she had known how she felt for years, known that there would never be any other man for her, but she’d been afraid to admit it to herself, let alone to him. But soon, very soon, she would tell him the truth: that it wasn’t hatred she felt, but love! She owed it to both of them to do that.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ALMOST a week passed and Helen had no word from Jacob. Each morning she awoke wondering if he would contact her and each night went to bed disappointed. She knew he was staying up in town from what her father told her when she phoned him. Helen had glossed over their unexpected return by using the storm as an excuse, and Edward Sinclair had happily accepted the explanation. It was obvious that the stay in the country under Baxter’s attentive care had done him good. When he offered to return to London so that the house would be free, Helen refused. Until she had seen Jacob she intended to remain in town.

  On Friday, after a near sleepless night spent worrying about what was going on, Helen decided she could stand it no longer. It was odd that Jacob hadn’t even telephoned her but perhaps he had been too busy sorting out whatever Richard had done. However, there was no earthly reason why she shouldn’t go to see him. She loved him, and the need to tell him that at last was driving her crazy.

  Dressed in an attractive deep blue dress with her hair swept into an elegant coil, she put the finishing touches to her make-up, frowning at the shadows under her eyes. She wanted to look her best when she saw Jacob, watch his eyes fill with admiration and desire. She closed her eyes as she recalled that last possessive kiss he had given her, the note in his deep voice as he’d told her he had waited a long time. What had he really meant? That he’d waited to hear her admit she didn’t hate him? Or had there been something more to that statement? Had Jacob realised that she loved him because he felt the same way about her?

  She savoured the thought, then roused herself when the letter-box rattled as a letter dropped on to the mat. Walking through to the hall, she picked it up and slit the envelope open, her attention more on what might happen when she saw Jacob, so that it took several seconds for the typewritten words to sink in. When they did the blood drained from her face.

  It was from Jacob’s solicitors, informing her that he was to start divorce proceedings and that they would be in touch with her own solicitors shortly. There had been no attempt to soften the stark words, probably because they imagined she knew what was to happen. Now the shock of it made her shake.

  Jacob wanted a divorce! She couldn’t bear even to think about it, not now when she finally knew how much she loved him. It must be some sort of silly mistake. When he had left the other night, divorce had been the last thing on his mind!

  Later, Helen remembered nothing of the journey to Jacob’s office. It was all a blank right up to the moment when she stood in front of his secretary’s desk and demanded to know if he was in. Annette seemed to be torn between a desire to carry out her instructions and shock at the sight of Helen’s white face. ‘I’m afraid that Mr Hunt is busy at present, Miss Sinc—I mean, Mrs Hunt,’ she amended hurriedly. ‘He did say that he wasn’t to be disturbed.’

  ‘Did he?’ Helen’s eyes blazed as she glanced at the closed door to Jacob’s office. ‘I’m sure he will spare time to see me.’

  Without another word she marched across the room and flung the door open, fighting to hold on to her control. It was all some sort of a mistake, that was all. Once she had spoken to Jacob then they would soon work it out.

  Jacob was sitting behind his desk. He had his jacket off and his shirt sleeves rolled up, and there were dark shadows under his eyes which told their own story, but to Helen he looked simply marvellous. She drank in the sight of him, feeling her love warm away the cold fear. Then Jacob looked up, his gaze so impersonal that it swamped her afresh.

  ‘Didn’t Annette tell you I was busy, Helen?’

  ‘I—yes, but I need to speak to you.’

  He glanced at his watch then tipped back in his chair, watching her with hooded eyes. ‘Then I can spare you a few minutes, I suppose. Make it brief.’

  Helen closed the door and walked slowly across the room to stop in front of the desk. ‘Why haven’t you contacted me, Jacob?’ she asked quietly.

  He arched a brow, his handsome face full of mockery. ‘So that’s why you’ve come?’ He sighed heavily. ‘I’ve just told you, I’ve been busy.’

  ‘Too busy to pick up the phone? I’ve been worried sick about what’s been happening, whether you’ve sorted out what Richard was up to!’ Her voice rose, reflecting her unease. Why was Jacob looking at her like that, his face full of that cool amusement? It wasn’t how he had looked at her the other night. Then his eyes had been full of a fire just the memory of which could make her burn.

  Suddenly she realised that he was speaking. ‘I’m sorry. What did you say?’

  He ran an impatient hand through his hair. ‘I said that there is no need for you to worry about Richard’s doings. That’s all under control. Now, if that is the only reason why you came...’ He picked up his pen, his meaning obvious, and Helen felt her temper rise. She stepped closer to the desk and opened her bag to take out the letter and thrust it towards him.

  ‘It wasn’t the only reason. I received this today. What exactly does it mean?’

  Jacob barely spared it a glance, boredom etched on his face and in the eyes which lifted to hers. ‘I imagine it’s self-explanatory. I intend to divorce you.’ He gave a soft little laugh which made her heart thump. ‘Worried where that leaves you, Helen? Don’t be. You will be well provided for under the terms of our contract. I doubt many women could fare so well. A few days of marriage and one night in bed in return for financial security for the rest of your life? Not bad, I’d say.’

  ‘How dare you?’ She didn’t stop to think what she was doing as she struck out at his arrogant, mocking face, but he caught her wrist before her hand could make contact. Pushing it aside, he got up and came around the desk towards her, and despite her anger Helen shrank away from what she could see in his eyes, that bitter, icy disdain.

  ‘I dare because I have waited a long time to achieve this. Did you imagine that you were the only one who wanted to settle old scores?’ He caught her by the shoulders when she would have turned away, his fingers biting into her flesh. ‘Why did you come, Helen? Just to ask about the letter? Or did you want to tell me how you feel, that you love me?’ His voice had dropped a note but it held no warmth, just a dark ice which chilled her. ‘That’s the truth, isn’t it? You love me. I’ve always known it even though you have claimed to hate me.’ He lifted her chin, forcing her to meet the icy amusement in his eyes. ‘Why do you really imagine that I married you, Helen? Because I felt the same way? Because I longed for you, wanted nothing more from life than to have you as my wife and know that you loved me with the same kind of obsessive madness?’

  ‘Jacob, I...’

  She couldn’t carry on, the anguish tearing her apart as she looked into his face and saw things which were part of her worse nightmares. Yet even then he was relentless in his cruelty, driving it home.

  ‘You what, Helen? Don’t understand? Don’t believe me?’ He shrugged, suddenly pushing her away as though he found the idea of holding her distasteful. ‘I married you to get even, Helen. For all the things you and your family did to me. And what better way to achieve that objective than finally to make you admit that you were in love with me? Now I imagine that even you understand that there is nothing more to add, apart from the fact that my solicitor will be in touch with yours to finalise all the arrangements.’

  He went and sat down behind the desk again, picking up his pen and turning his attention back to the papers he was working on. Helen stared at him for one long minute more, then turned and left, wondering how it was possible to keep functioning when it fel
t as though her heart had just been ripped to shreds. On leaden legs she left the office block and made her way back to the flat, then instead of going inside went to her car and climbed behind the wheel and just sat there, staring along the drive. It had all been a trick, a cruel, deliberate, perfectly planned trick! Jacob must have hated her for years and realised that he had it within his power to make her pay for all her foolishness, all the hurts she and her family had inflicted on him. He had helped her father when Edward had asked him, not for any altruistic reason but because it had been a means to tighten the net and achieve what he wanted: to make her admit she loved him so that he could throw that love back in her face. She didn’t think that she could bear it.

  It took less than an hour to drive to the house but it felt as though a hundred years had passed since she’d woken up that morning. She had longed to tell Jacob that she loved him, but now she knew what a farce that really was. Jacob hated her and the realisation almost tore her apart.

  She pulled into the driveway and sat for a few minutes to compose herself before getting out and ringing the bell. It wasn’t going to be easy to explain to her father what a mistake she’d made, but it had to be done. No matter what Jacob had said, she wouldn’t accept a penny of his money either for herself or for her father. Every penny would be tainted by the hatred he felt for her.

  Edward Sinclair was in the library reading one of the old-fashioned fishing handbooks he was so fond of. Baxter showed her in then discreetly left, although Helen wasn’t unaware of the man’s surprise at her unexpected appearance, the stilted tone of her voice. She was holding on by just a thread and it showed.

  ‘Helen! Darling, what a lovely surprise. You should have phoned and come down earlier for lunch.’ Edward Sinclair put his book down and got up to greet her. He wasn’t using his stick, Helen noticed. Obviously the rest and care had done him good and she hated the thought that she was about to bring him fresh worries, but it couldn’t be helped. Jacob hated her!

  The thought brought tears to her eyes so unexpectedly that she had no time to prevent her father from seeing them, and turned away when she heard his murmur of dismay.

  ‘Darling, what is it? Has something happened?’ He came and put his arm around her, holding her close as he had done so many times when she’d been a child and cried about some small injury or injustice. She’d believed then that her father could cure all ills, but he couldn’t cure what ailed her now, this pain which was tearing her apart. And the thought made her cry all the harder until her body was racked with sobs.

  When her father led her to the comfortable old chesterfield and made her sit down, she went obediently, pouring out the whole story at his gentle probing. He waited until she had finished then got up and walked slowly to the window, his back towards her as he stared across the lawns.

  ‘And you really believe that Jacob married you to pay you back? That it was merely some sort of act of revenge?’

  ‘Yes—he made it clear.’ Tears welled into her eyes again and she wiped them away with her fingers.

  ‘Well, there’s none so blind as those who won’t see.’ Her father sighed as he turned round, and smiled at her puzzled expression. ‘Helen, you can’t see what is staring you in the face. You never have been able to see it.’

  ‘Father, I don’t—’

  ‘Don’t understand?’ He came back and sat down next to her, taking her hand as he smiled gently at her. ‘Jacob has been in love with you for years, darling. Everyone knew that. Why do you think your mother went to such lengths to keep him away from you, telling Baxter that he wasn’t to pass on any messages, inform you of any telephone calls? Your mother and I both knew that he was besotted with you and—well, I’m afraid we both felt that he wasn’t good enough for you.’

  ‘Father!’

  ‘Oh, I know, I know. I’m not proud of it now, not when I see what a fine man Jacob has turned into, but back then there was a wildness about him which worried both your mother and me. Perhaps we were just afraid because you were so young and Jacob Hunt was something beyond your experience. But he was in love with you then, the same as he is still in love with you to this very day.’

  ‘I—no! You’re wrong. He doesn’t love me—he hates me!’

  ‘Helen, it’s you who are wrong. In a way it’s my fault because I should have told you that Jacob wasn’t the one who destroyed our business and took this house and everything away from us. I did that through my own incompetence. Jacob merely tried to help afterwards.’

  ‘He told me that you had asked him to?’ Helen could barely speak, the shock of what her father had just said stealing the words.

  ‘It was the truth. I went to him and asked him to help bail out the company and myself. And do you know why it was Jacob I went to, darling?’

  ‘Because he was in a position to help?’ she suggested hesitantly.

  Edward smiled. ‘Jacob is a businessman. Taking on an ailing company and all its debts made little sense, but I knew he was my only hope because I knew how he felt about you, darling. Shameful, wasn’t it? I played on his feelings for you to save us from bankruptcy.’

  Helen’s head was reeling with shock. Her father sounded as though he believed it, but he could be wrong. Love could die; Jacob’s love for her could have changed to hatred. ‘It doesn’t explain why he told me the exact opposite before. He—he’s instructed his solicitors to start divorce proceedings.’

  ‘Has he? Then if I were you, Helen, I would start to ask myself why.’ He shook his head when she started to speak. ‘Jacob loves you. I have no doubts about that. If he has told you differently then he must have had a reason, one that might not be immediately obvious.’ He looked quietly into her eyes. ‘Do you love him, Helen? Really love him?’

  She closed her eyes on a sudden wave of pain. ‘Yes!’

  ‘Then don’t let him lie to you about this. I don’t know why he’s doing it, but if you love him then don’t let it end without putting up a fight.’

  Helen stared at her father in silence as a thought started to grow, an idea which filled her with both fear and hope. Had Jacob been so cruel because of Richard and what he had done? Richard had told her that he intended to see that Jacob lost everything, so how successful had he been in that aim? If Jacob lost everything he owned he would hate it, would hate the idea that he couldn’t give Helen what he thought she wanted to keep her happy. How wrong he was! All she needed in her life was Jacob. Nothing else mattered.

  * * *

  Staff were streaming out of the doors when Helen arrived at the towering block where Jacob had his office. Edward Sinclair had insisted that his daughter wait until she had composed herself before setting off on the drive back to town and, although Helen had been torn by impatience, she knew that it made sense. Now as she stood on the pavement outside the fast-emptying building she said a silent prayer that she hadn’t made the journey in vain.

  No one stopped her as she made her way up in the lift to Jacob’s office. Everyone was too intent on getting home after a long day. When she reached the floor which housed Hunt Electronics it was deserted, as was the outer office Annette usually guarded.

  Helen’s heart sank. Somehow she’d never given any thought to the fact that Jacob might not be there. The need to speak to him and find out if her father had been right was burning inside her, a flame which threatened to consume her. She had to know one way or the other if there was any room for hope.

  Later she had no idea what kept her hesitating in the silent office. Perhaps it was just a reluctance to leave without doing anything at all. Yet as she stood there she was suddenly filled with a growing certainty that Jacob was still in the building. She could sense his presence like an almost physical thing. Slowly she walked across to the door of his room and turned the handle, pushing the door wide open so that she could see inside the room, and felt her heart contract at what she saw.

  Jacob was sitting slumped in one of the soft leather chairs beside the window, his eyes closed, his whole b
earing one of utter dejection. Helen had never seen him like this before in her life, never seen the vitality drained out of him before. Jacob was always in control, brimming with energy and confidence, master of his destiny, yet the man seated in the chair looked far removed from that description.

  ‘Are you all right, Jacob?’ Her voice was soft as she asked the question yet he jerked upright as though he had been struck. Just for a moment he met her worried gaze, his eyes unguarded, then the mask dropped back into place to hide his feelings from her.

  ‘What do you want, Helen?’ His tone was little short of rude, so brusque that a few minutes before Helen would have turned and run, but not now, not after what she had witnessed so fleetingly in his eyes just now!

  Just the memory of what she had seen gave her courage, stemmed the tremble which coursed through her limbs, made her voice ring out firm and clear. ‘To speak to you, of course.’

  He stood up abruptly, pushing his dishevelled hair back from his forehead with a hand which trembled slightly despite the rigid control Helen guessed he was keeping on his emotions. ‘I think we said all that needed to be said before. Anything else can be dealt with through our solicitors.’

  Helen arched an amused brow, moving across the room to stop beside him, so close that her arm brushed his, and she felt the way he flinched at the slight contact with a feeling of joy. ‘Can it really? So what do you suggest, Jacob? That I instruct my solicitor to write informing you that I am head over heels in love with you and that I have no intention of allowing you to divorce me for all the misguided reasons you’ve decided on?’