The Convenient Lorimer Wife

by Penny Jordan

  Molten waves of heat flooded through her body as he pulled her into his arms, kissing and caressing her body into a hunger that matched his own.

  ‘Now, Somer…now,’ he muttered fiercely, his skin damp against her. ‘Take me inside you and make me feel complete.’

  In blind obedience Somer reacted to his words, marvelling at the shuddering vulnerability of his body as he moaned thick exclamations of pleasure into her mouth and throat, taking her with him on a powerful surge of pleasure way beyond the barriers of human comprehension to a place where merely spoken communication was completely unnecessary and her yielding cries of fulfilment were stolen from her tongue by the fierce heat of his mouth.

  * * *

  SHE MUST HAVE fallen asleep in Chase’s arms, Somer decided later, for the next thing she remembered was waking up to find her body curled languorously against him, her head buried against his chest and her legs still wantonly entangled with Chase’s.

  A faint light filtered through the curtains warning that morning was on the way. At first Somer felt completely disorientated and then gradually she remembered, a deep flush burning her skin as she did so.

  ‘Now, can you still tell me that you feel rejected…undesirable…’

  Chase was awake! Repressing a cowardly instinct to play possum Somer tried to inch away from his body, but he was holding her there with the arm he had curved round her.

  ‘Chase, you shouldn’t have done it.’

  ‘Why not?’ he demanded bitterly, instantly releasing her. ‘Because I’m not Hollister? But I am the one who rejected you, Somer, the one who refused to make love to you and left you with a hang-up that has kept you a virgin ever since.’

  ‘And now I’m supposed to be free?’ Anger and pain shrilled her voice, as she realised fully why he had made love to her. As a recompense for the past. Surely an out-of-character reaction from a man who had had no compunction in using her.

  ‘I suppose you expect me to feel grateful towards you as well,’ she challenged, almost sobbing out the words in her chagrin and anguish. Out of a melee of thoughts only one was clear: Chase had made love to her out of pity…and some strange sort of guilt.

  ‘Somer, I…’

  ‘I’m sure Andrew will appreciate the expertise I’ve gained in your arms.’

  The expression on his face changed, hardening.

  ‘He won’t get the opportunity to. We’re leaving for Barnwell at the end of the week. The house isn’t habitable at the moment—all the services are disconnected for one thing—but my sister’s offered to put us up until we can move in.’

  ‘Barnwell? You never said anything about us leaving London.’ If Somer sounded shocked it was because she had never envisaged the undoubted intimacy of living with Chase in a small country village where she knew no one apart from himself and his family, but Chase chose to misinterpret her concern.

  ‘It was never part of our bargain that marriage to me included easy access for Hollister,’ he told her harshly. ‘You come very highly recommended from your father as a good organiser and homemaker, so I might as well make use of your talent.’

  ‘Meaning that it’s the only one I have,’ she challenged bitterly. To her surprise his lips twisted in the faintly mocking smile she was coming to know and he countered softly, ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say that… While it’s true that your other…talents may not yet be honed to perfection, there’s no doubt that the raw material’s there.’

  Thoroughly flustered Somer changed the subject. ‘Tell me about Barnwell,’ she demanded. ‘When you say we can’t move in straight away…’

  ‘Oh, there’s nothing structurally wrong with it,’ Chase assured her. ‘It’s a soundly built house.’ He yawned, suddenly stretching, reminding Somer of their intimacy—something she had almost forgotten in the heat of her anger against him. Dawn had broken fully now and as though he had read her mind Chase drawled softly, ‘There’s only two adequate reasons for waking up an hour earlier than you need to in the morning—the first is having an early business meeting, the second…’ His glance lingered tauntingly on the full softness of her mouth and then moved downwards, gliding over her duvet-shrouded curves. Every muscle tensed, Somer stared back at him. Inwardly she was quivering with wild panic mingled with an aching feverish need which threatened to demolish her completely. She actually wanted him to make love to her again; to take her in his arms and caress her body, to…to tell her that he loved her.

  Her heartbeats thudded almost to a standstill and then started up again; jerky staccato beats that told her of her anguish. Chase would never say those all-important words to her. Hadn’t he told her why he was making love to her? Hadn’t she seen him with her own eyes with Clancy Williams in his office?

  ‘I must get up.’ How breathlessly uncertain her voice sounded, almost as though she were hoping he would argue with her; plead with her to stay. Angry with herself she continued brittly, ‘I’ve got some work to do… I should have done it yesterday, but I had to put it off to…’

  ‘To take your papers to the studio,’ she had been about to say, but Chase forestalled her, almost snarling, ‘So that you could be with Hollister!’

  ‘I had no idea Andrew was in London.’

  ‘No?’ He flung back the bedclothes, making no concessions towards any embarrassment she might feel at his nudity, Somer thought angrily, dragging her eyes away from the muscled perfection of his body. If they were really married, really lovers, she would be able to reach out and touch him; to coax him to stay with her and make love to her again.

  She heard the bathroom door close behind Chase and tried to pull herself together. From the brief description he had given her she had no idea what to expect at Barnwell. It was true that she had organised her father’s households for years, planning their decor, chivvying decorators and other craftsmen, but to do the same thing for a man who was virtually a stranger to her?

  A stranger? Her own words mocked her. How could she describe a man who knew her as intimately as Chase did as a stranger? His heart and mind were locked and barred against her, and he was a stranger. She wanted to pull the bedclothes over her head and cry, but pride forbade her. When Chase returned from the bathroom he wasn’t going to find her here in bed still, looking as though she were waiting for him.

  * * *

  ‘SOMER, my dear, I hope I’m not ringing at a bad time?’

  Somer recognised her new sister-in-law’s voice almost immediately, and responded to her cheerful opening remarks, guessing that she was telephoning about their forthcoming stay.

  ‘We can put you up quite easily at the moment, Dan and Chris, our eldest pair, are away in France on an exchange holiday, so we’ve plenty of space.’

  ‘Chase says that Barnwell is structurally sound…’

  ‘Oh yes, it is,’ Helena agreed. ‘But it has been very neglected. He’s asked me to organise for all the services to be reconnected, and I’ve arranged for someone from the village to go in and give it a good clean up, but it is terribly old-fashioned; the house is Victorian and the kitchen hasn’t been touched in the last fifty years at least. All the bedrooms still have their original fireplaces—but they’re coming back into fashion now, and I don’t suppose you’ll be too worried about the size of the place—Chase was telling me what a good job you’d done on your father’s London house. He said it was a proper home rather than a series of reception rooms. I can send you some photographs of the interior, plus all the room sizes if that will help—of course you’ll need to see the place for yourself, but I suspect once you have you’re going to be kept busy flying between here and London—our small village and local market town won’t be able to provide the fabrics and wallpapers I suspect you’ll want. Still at least the place is large enough to house that football team Chase seems so keen on having.’

  Talking to her sister-in-law was rather like being buffeted by a rough autumn wind, pleasurably bracing but rather exhausting, Somer reflected when she eventually hung up. Against her will she f
elt drawn towards Chase’s sister, and if the reburnishment of Barnwell proved anything like as time-consuming as Helena predicted it would at least be something to keep her mind occupied until her twelve-months’ sentence expired. She would look upon the task as a job for which she had been employed, and perhaps with Chase busy at the studios and her involved at Barnwell they need not see too much of one another at all; that way there would be no repetitions of last night.

  Last night. She squeezed her eyelids tightly closed trying to blot out the memories; Chase looking at her almost tenderly… Chase touching her as though he wanted to give her pleasure, and then later as though he couldn’t resist the feel of her skin beneath his fingers. His lovemaking had been all she had imagined all those years ago and more, eliciting from her a response that shattered her reserve, but it hadn’t been lovemaking; it had been a self-imposed penance performed by a man she had never credited with the sensitivity to take on such a responsibility, never mind accomplish it with such acutely shattering delicacy.

  But it was dangerous to delude herself that the man who had held her in his arms last night was the real Chase. He was a sensualist but she was far from being the only woman to find pleasure in his arms.

  * * *

  CHASE WAS HOME late that evening. Somer had eaten another solitary dinner and then worked on her programming. She was just flicking idly through a magazine when he walked in, trying to appear relaxed, while inwardly she was as tightly coiled as an over-wound spring.

  The first thing she noticed was the alert, satisfied gleam in Chase’s eyes, and for some reason it infuriated her.

  ‘Sorry I’m so late,’ he apologised. ‘Something came up but I managed to get it sorted out over dinner.’

  ‘Something not being Clancy by any chance I suppose?’ Somer asked sweetly, astounded to hear herself sounding very much like a jealous wife. Chase seemed amused rather than annoyed by her comment.

  ‘As a matter of fact I did have dinner with Clancy,’ he agreed, watching her as she strived to appear cool and uncaring. ‘She’s a very entertaining companion.’

  ‘I’m sure she is,’ Somer agreed waspishly, putting aside her magazine and standing up. ‘I’m rather tired, I think I’ll go to bed.

  Chase paused in the act of removing his jacket, turning towards her as he tugged loose his tie and unfastened the top buttons of his shirt, stretching indolently.

  For a long moment their eyes held and Somer was left in no doubt that he was remembering their lovemaking, and the gleam in his eyes was a satisfied very male one.

  ‘I’m not tired because of that,’ she bit out angrily, torturing her lower lip against her teeth as she saw the way he smiled.

  ‘Because of what?’ he asked lazily, not bothering to hide the amusement in his eyes.

  ‘I’ve been working on a difficult programme today,’ Somer told him, changing the subject. ‘It’s left me feeling rather drained—far too drained to sit here and unravel your innuendoes, Chase. Perhaps you shouldn’t have rushed home quite so quickly,’ she finished maliciously.

  ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t at that,’ he agreed blandly, but Somer was quick to sense the chill in his voice. ‘Did Helena ring you?’

  ‘Yes. She’s sending me some photographs and measurements of Barnwell.’

  ‘Umm, well don’t let her pressurise you into rushing—my sister tends to forget that the rest of the female population doesn’t share her Amazonian tendencies.’ The phone rang as he finished speaking and Somer reached automatically for it. She recognised the female voice asking for Chase almost immediately.

  ‘It’s for you.’ She thrust the receiver towards him, almost shaking as she turned her head away.

  ‘Well, it might be in the car,’ she heard him say. ‘I’ll go and have a look.’

  There was a brief silence while he listened and then as Somer turned towards him, his eyes fastened on her face and he drawled softly, ‘No, no…if I find it I’ll come round with it. You aren’t interrupting anything that won’t keep.’

  ‘That was Clancy,’ he told Somer unnecessarily when he had finished. ‘She’s lost one of her earrings and thinks it might be in the car.

  Somer didn’t comment. She felt too sick with jealousy to be able to do so.

  It was very late when she heard him return, and she found she was holding her breath when she heard his bedroom door open. She could hear him moving about—showering in the bathroom which adjoined hers and then silence. Had he made love to Clancy? Had he touched her and caressed as he had touched her last night? she wondered, images of them together biting into her like acid. It was a long time before she eventually fell asleep and when she woke up it was gone ten and she was alone in the house.

  CHAPTER NINE

  IN THE end it was almost a relief to set out for Barnwell. The photographs and measurements had arrived—the rooms seemed large, and spacious, early Victorian as Helena had said. Until she had actually toured the house herself Somer didn’t want to commit herself to any too fixed ideas, but in her mind’s eye she could already envisage the high-ceilinged elegant rooms awash with soft pastels and chintz fabrics; perhaps some of the new Japanese-influenced ones…but she would have to consult Chase, after all he was the one who was going to live there, not her.

  When she did so, Chase shrugged indifferently and said he would leave everything to her. ‘I might as well get something from this marriage,’ he taunted.

  ‘You already are,’ Somer shot back. ‘Your uncle’s fortune, and you were the one who wanted this marriage, Chase, not me. I had to be blackmailed into it—remember?’

  ‘With photographs that you wanted me to take. Does Hollister know about them?’

  ‘No!’

  Her shocked recoil made Chase laugh grimly. ‘No, somehow I thought he might not. Does he know that we have been lovers? Does he know why you have this hangup about not making love?’

  She was saved from answering by the insistent ring of the telephone, and escaped upstairs to continue with her packing.

  Chase was caught up in difficult negotiations over the American series—or at least that was what he told her and so the burden of preparing for their move fell on Somer. She had asked him what he intended to do about the London house and had been disconcerted when he replied that he would keep it on and live in it himself during the week.

  ‘Try not to look so relieved,’ he told her drily, misinterpreting her reaction. ‘I had thought…but I hadn’t realised then…’

  ‘That my hang-up prevented me from becoming a casual bed partner as well as a means of obtaining your inheritance,’ Somer said scornfully.

  ‘Somer, are you all right?’ His sharp query broke through her painful thoughts. ‘You went quite pale,’ he said watching her. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Of course,’ she responded crisply, adding calmly, ‘I had a letter from my father this morning. He seems to be settling in well.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ Chase broke in sardonically. ‘If you want to remain a princess in her ivory tower, yearning over her lost love, I’m not going to stop you. I know better now than to cast myself as Sleeping Beauty’s prince, although you did respond to me,’ he added, making it plain what he alluded to.

  Somer hated the painful flush that scorched her skin. ‘You know why…’

  ‘Because you hadn’t been able to get over my supposed rejection of you five years ago? Yes, I know why,’ Chase agreed, and Somer wondered if her imagination was playing tricks on her when she heard what she could have sworn was bleak bitterness in his voice.

  ‘I’ve got to go now, if I want to finish early tomorrow. We’ll drive down to Barnwell late morning. Do you need any help with anything?’

  ‘No. I’m all ready. There’s just your things to pack.’

  ‘I’ll do that myself,’ Chase cut in abruptly. ‘I’ve got to go now.’

  * * *

  ‘NOT MUCH further now.’

  It was the first comment Chase had made since they left the motorway
behind half an hour ago. The comfort of his car had lulled Somer almost to sleep, and she pulled slightly against the restriction of her seat belt, noticing for the first time the loveliness of the countryside. Gently rolling hills, chequered in greens and golds, stretched out around them. The narrow road they were driving down was bordered with fields, clumps of trees interspersing the hedges.

  ‘There’s Barnwell.’

  Chase stopped the car on the crest of a small hill. Below them Somer could see a cluster of houses which Chase told her was the village. Dotted round the periphery were half a dozen or so large dwellings, and then as she followed the direction Chase was indicating Somer saw Barnwell for the first time.

  Victorian it most certainly was, but where she had expected austere patriarchal Victorian she saw a house mellowed by age, in warm buttermilk cream, ivy and soft yellow roses smothering the walls.

  ‘It’s lovely.’

  She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

  ‘Yes.’ Chase’s agreement was soft. ‘I’ve always had a special feeling about the place—perhaps because it was the only permanent home Helena and I knew as children. It’s very special to me.’ The quiet admission brought the betraying sting of tears to her eyes. Against her will she was picturing Chase as a child, missing his parents and clinging to the security of a house that exuded it. Stop making excuses for him, she warned herself when she found herself thinking that it was understandable that he would want to hold on to such an inheritance.

  ‘Could…could we go and see it now?’

  Somer was as surprised to hear herself voicing the request as Chase seemed to hear it. The plan had been that they would go straight to Helena’s and yet something in Chase’s expression as he looked down on the house tugged at her heart.

  Without saying anything he set the car in motion, but Somer wasn’t surprised when they drove in through the open gate and down a rhododendron-lined drive that led to the house.

  ‘It’s so tranquil.’ For some reason Somer found herself whispering.

  ‘Not when Helena is round her with her brood it isn’t,’ Chase drawled drily, ‘and I suppose she and I were just as bad when we were kids. Our uncle was my father’s uncle really, which makes it all the more remarkable that he was willing to take on the responsibility for it. He had been a teacher, and he had a way of imparting information that was so gentle that you didn’t even realise you were being taught.’