The Valentine Child

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The Valentine Child Page 13

by Jacqueline Baird


  'Yes, yes, I have, and he would like to speak to Val. Can you put him on, please?'

  'Hi, Mom. When are you coming back? Have you got me a present?' At the sound of her son's childish chatter Zoe's eyes misted with tears.

  'Slow down, darling. I'll be home tomorrow and yes, I am bringing you a present.' Sensing Justin's presence behind her, she glanced over her shoulder. His dark eyes burnt implacably into hers as he mouthed the words Tell him, while Val's shout of joy and demands to know what it was rang in her ear. 'I'm bringing your daddy home with me; he's here now and would like to say hello!'

  Numbly she handed the receiver to Justin, and watched silently as he spoke to his son for the first time. She choked back a sob, amazed to see his eyes luminous with tears. Only then did the full enormity of what she had done by denying him his son sink into her tired brain, and the feeling of guilt was crushing.

  'Here. He wants to say goodbye.' The receiver was pushed back into her hand and she managed to pull herself together enough to finish the call.

  She replaced the receiver, her hand shaking, the ecstatic delight in her son's voice ringing in her ears. Val sounded happier than she had heard him in months, and it only added to her own self-disgust.

  'I suppose I should thank you, but I don't damn well feel like it! That was my son—my boy.' His angry words flayed her like a whip. 'And you only told me because you were desperate.'

  He was right and she bowed her head in shame.

  'Oh, for God's sake go! Go and have a rest and then pack. I'll be back in couple of hours. I have a few things to sort out—people to see—before we leave.' He was all brutal efficiency and she should have been glad. Instead she watched him walk out of the suite with a pounding heart and her thoughts in chaos.

  They arrived in New York in the early evening, and before Zoe had time to catch her breath they were on another private flight out to Brunswick. Justin had done his homework well, and as he deftly swung the rental car off the interstate at her direction and along the small road that ran to Rowena Cove she could sense the tension mounting in his large body.

  She glanced sideways at his grim profile, etched in the lights of a passing car, and her own fear seemed to lessen slightly when she thought of what he had to face.

  'Is this it?' The car ground to a halt outside the front door of the cottage.

  'Yes.'

  'Nice, but hardly your style,' he murmured, following her up the porch steps, his travel bag in one hand, hers in the other. He glanced up at the comfortable-looking old house and then around the headland to the sea beyond.

  She made no response as she fiddled in her bag for the door key; finding it, she opened the door, walked into the hall and switched on the light. She was bone- weary, jet-lagged and totally depressed. In a few hours' time Margy would be bringing Val home but until then all she wanted to do was collapse into bed. But good manners dictated that she take care of her guest first.

  'Follow me; I'll show you to your room. If-- '

  'Correction.' Justin caught her arm and spun her round to face him; his hard black eyes clashed with hers, a derisory anger in their depths.

  'Our room, Zoe. You sleep with me. I told you last night, I'm not into celibacy—especially when I have a perfectly good wife at hand.'

  'My, you have changed your tune. I seem to remember you always preferred separate bedrooms,' she was goaded into replying.

  'At the time I thought it was for the best, but after last night I realised what a mistake I had made. Your fragile exterior cloaks a strong, sexy woman and I have no intention of making the same mistake again.'

  She looked up at him, puzzled. She didn't understand his comment, but she was too tired to worry about it. 'Right at this moment all you have is an exhausted woman,' she said flatly.

  Until now she had not really thought about what bringing Justin into her life would entail; she had not thought of much at all beyond wanting to save her child. Seeing his harshly determined face, she knew it would be pointless to argue.

  Turning on her heel, she proceeded up the spindle- railed staircase to the landing and along to the main bedroom. She dropped her bag on the bed and crossed to the adjoining bathroom. 'Make yourself at home, why don't you?' she flung facetiously over her shoulder as she closed the bathroom door behind her.

  'Mom, Mom, I missed you.'

  'Yes, darling, and I love you,' she murmured sleepily, and felt the warm touch of lips on her brow. Reassured, she drifted back to sleep.

  Zoe blinked; she could vaguely hear voices whispering and the sound of childish laughter. She blinked again and opened her eyes. The small face was peering over the edge of the bed, and she smiled sleepily.

  'Hello, darling; you're up early,' she murmured, and then she noticed his small hand curved in a much larger one. She glanced sideways, and slowly up long, jean- clad thighs, a plaid shirt, to the smiling face of her husband. She blushed scarlet and scrambled up into a sitting position, pulling the bedclothes with her, the events of last night flashing through her mind. 'Good morning, Justin,' she mumbled.

  'Is it?' he queried, with a conspiratorial grin at Val. 'What do you think son?' And as Zoe watched they both burst out laughing.

  'Nearly afternoon, Mom. Dad and I've been waiting ages for you to wake up. I've promised to take Dad to my favourite picnic place. Mrs B has got everything ready.'

  'What? Oh!' Her startled gaze flashed from father to son and back to the man again. 'Give me five minutes,' she said, flustered by the insolent gleam of masculine appreciation in his dark eyes as they lingered on her small figure, and inexplicably angry at the ease with which Val called Justin Dad as though he had known him all his life.

  She glanced at their joined hands and a shaft of pained jealousy arrowed through her.

  'Come on, son. Let's leave your Mum to drink her coffee and dress in peace.'

  'Not until I've had a cuddle,' Zoe insisted, her gaze resting lovingly on Val's face. 'I've missed you, darling,' she murmured, leaning forward and wrapping her armsaround his thin little body. She buried her face in his sweet-smelling hair. He clung for a moment and then began to wriggle free.

  'I'm glad you're home, Mom, but hurry up.'

  It was fifteen minutes later before, with hesitant steps, she descended the stairs and pushed open the door into the large family-room. Justin was sitting on the battered old hide sofa with Val curled up on his lap, his small face a picture of rapt concentration as Justin's deep voice was describing what the Tower of London looked like.

  'When can I go, Dad?

  'As soon as you're a hundred per cent-- '

  'Hey, what happened to our picnic?' Zoe cut in, and they both turned identical brown eyes up to hers and her heart squeezed with a hope and a longing so intense that she had to turn away. 'Race you to the car,' she said, and fled, with father and son a few steps behind her.

  It was one of those perfect, early spring days; the sun shone with the first real warmth of the year, the trees were in bud, the grass, awakening from winter, was turning a richer green, and as Justin manoeuvred the Range Rover along the narrow, winding coast road, with Val strapped happily in the back, keeping up a constant flow of chatter, she felt a new sense of hope growing in her heart.

  And the hope grew stronger and brighter with every hour that passed. They parked the car and, with Zoe leading the way, Justin swung Val up on his shoulders and followed her down the winding path through the pine forest to the sea.

  'Isn't it great, Dad?' Val demanded, once more on his own two feet. 'I named it Pirates Cove and nobody else ever comes here.'

  It was a lovely place; tall pine trees edged a narrow ribbon of sandy beach, caressed by the eternal touch of the mighty Atlantic Ocean. She breathed in the fresh, healthy air and glanced sideways at Justin. He looked magnificent, dressed in well-washed jeans and a heavy navy turtle-neck sweater that didn't quite cover the collar of his blue and red plaid shirt. But it was the expression on his tanned face that shook her.

&nbs
p; His eyes gleamed with such tender love and care down on the excited, upturned face of his son that it bought tears to her eyes. Swallowing hard, she briskly set about unpacking the picnic basket. 'Run along, you two; I'll give you a call when it's ready,' she said brightly, spreading a blanket out over the short grass on the edge of the tree line.

  'Do you want any help?' Justin asked, his hand resting lightly on her shoulder for a second.

  The sensual warmth of his touch triggered an immediate response in her that flustered her completely, and she was reminded of the meek way she had crawled into bed with him last night and promptly fallen asleep in his arms.

  She shrugged off his hand. 'No, no. You watch Val,' she said, and added curtly, 'Be careful. Don't let him tire himself out. He's not as strong as he looks.'

  'I am capable of looking after my own son. I'm not the uncaring monster you obviously assume I am,' he responded cuttingly.

  'Hey, are you cross with my mom?' a little voice piped up.

  The two adults immediately turned to the small figure bundled up in a wool coat with a muffler round his neck, his little face serious.

  'No, darling, of course not.' Zoe recovered first. 'It's just Daddy's funny English accent,' she placated the boy.

  'When I'm grown might I talk funny like dad?'

  'Not so much of the "funny".' Justin rumpled the small, dark head with an affectionate hand. 'Come on, son; it's time I taught you how to skim stones.'

  It was like a day out of time for Zoe. With everything prepared she sat down on the blanket and watched the two most important men in her life. They were standing at the water's edge; every so often a husky male laugh mingled with childish chuckles floated back on the breeze. She clapped her hands in spontaneous applause when a stone actually did jump along the water, and when Val skipped back towards her she laughed out loud as an extra large wave splashed up Justin's back just as he turned to follow suit.

  They feasted on chicken legs, peanut butter sandwiches—a favourite of Val's—and home-made chocolate cake, washed down with Coke and a flask of coffee for the adults.

  'Here they come,' Val whispered, and dashed to where Justin was sitting, his legs splayed, and crawled between them, hugging one large knee. 'Watch dad.'

  Zoe envied him his position and immediately blushed at the thought. Justin caught her eye and, reaching out, curled his fingers around her arm.

  'Come on, you too, Mom,' he drawled huskily, and suddenly she was sitting pressed to his side, the three of them a perfect picture of a close family. They smiled in delight as another family—this time one of chipmunks—descended on the beach, cavorting in the fine sand. Val threw the nuts Mrs B always packed and soon the chipmunks were brave enough to come near and eat them.

  'I don't believe it,' Justin murmured, his usually stern face softened into a boyish grin as he watched the cheeky animals.

  All too soon it was time to leave. Zoe glanced at Val; he looked pale, his eyes heavy, and, with a few quick words to Justin, they were packed up and back at the car.

  Carefully Justin lifted the little boy into the back seat and strapped him in while she slid into the front passenger seat. She glanced back over her shoulder worriedly. 'Are you feeling all right, my pet?'

  Val's drowsy eyes opened wide. A beatific smile lighting his whole face, he said simply, 'That's gotta be the best day ever, Mom.'

  Zoe swallowed the last of her wine and placed the glass down on the table beside her chair. She tucked her bare feet underneath her body, her eyes roaming around the room, looking anywhere except at Justin, lounging on the sofa opposite.

  They had bathed and put Val to bed ages ago. Mrs B had gone after serving up a delicious dinner. Zoe had finished her coffee, drained the last of her wine, and was overwhelmingly aware of the fraught silence in the room.

  'It's nice; I didn't think it was you, but after today I realise it is.'

  She jerked up straighter in the comfortable armchair. 'What is?' she said, completely at a loss as to what he was talking about.

  'The house—I like it. Mrs B showed me around this morning when you were still asleep.'

  'Oh.' She looked around, seeing the place as a stranger would for the first time. The living-room was comfortable with softly cushioned chairs and one or two pieces of good Federal period furniture, actually made in nearby Portsmouth. She didn't buy a lot of antiques but when she did she liked the best.

  'I imagined you living in something like Wayne's place at Malibu; obviously motherhood has changed you.'

  'Not that much,' she said shortly, but she wasn't about to enlighten him about her relationship with Wayne, not with Jess in the background. Instead she flared defensively, 'The house was built in the eighteenth century and as soon as I saw it I fell in love with it.'

  'So adamant,' he drawled. 'Hey, I approve.'

  'Yes, well. . .' She trailed off. She was proud of her home. She had tastefully furnished the two main reception-rooms in Early American style. The family-room she kept minimally furnished for Val and herself to play in. The hall still retained the original panelling, with the added delight of some interesting carvings.

  In the olden days the master mariners and craftsmen who had lived in the area had also turned their hand to interior design, and the same seaman who carved a figure-head on an old sailing boat had been just as likely to carve a staircase when on dry land.

  Personally Zoe loved the fireplace in this room; it was a prime example of the work of a skilled carver, and, with the fire lit and the pretty Laura Ashley curtains and decor, the room was cosy and intimate.

  Too intimate, she thought, her eyes sliding over Justin's long, lounging body. 'It's not that big—only four bedrooms,' she said quickly—anything to break the growing tension.

  'We only need two,' he drawled mockingly. 'Though I think the smallest one will do as a study for me. I'll see about getting it set up tomorrow.'

  'But will you be staying that long? I—I mean. . .' She stammered to a halt. How could she say, If you're not a match for Val you can go? It sounded so brutal.

  'Let me make this perfectly clear, Zoe.' Justin straightened up, his deep brown eyes fastening on hers, anger in their depths. 'You came looking for me. You found me, and I'm back in your life to stay. You're my wife. Whatever the result of my screening—however long Val does or does not have—I will not divorce you, and after the other night when you couldn't wait to get into my bed . . .'

  She felt the colour rush into her face at his reminder and flinched, tearing her gaze away from the sensual, knowing gleam in his eyes.

  'You must have realised that in law it constitutes a reconciliation and we would have to be separated another few years before you could even think of divorcing me.'

  'But what about your work, your career?' He couldn't really mean to give it all up and she certainly wasn't moving anywhere. She had a life, family, friends, a business.

  Justin rose and strolled across to the fireplace, to lean one elbow casually against the mantelshelf. He turned slightly, his expression grimly serious as he started to speak.

  'I can follow my career from virtually anywhere; tomorrow I will arrange for the installation of the right computers. I see no problem. As it happens I've just finished a particularly long case and I have a clear calender for the next month. I had intended taking a holiday.' He studied her from beneath his lids, the tension rising.

  'But that's not really the issue, is it, Zoe?' In two lithe strides he was beside her, his hip propped casually on the arm of her chair.

  'No?' She swallowed nervously. He was looming over her, dark and dangerous. She wriggled uncomfortably in her seat and slipped her feet to the floor. But his hand slid under the heavy fall of her hair and curved around the back of her neck.

  'The issue is Val and you and me.' He tilted her head back so that he was staring down into her wide blue eyes. 'Today Val thought for a second I was shouting at you. It mustn't happen again; the child has more than enough hardship ahead of him witho
ut our adding to it. Agreed?'

  'Yes, yes, of course, but--- '

  'No buts, Zoe. You've done a great job with Val; he's a lovely boy, and he deserves the best. By that I mean two apparently loving parents. When he walks into the bedroom in the morning it will be to find his mother and father. Together. Understand. . .? No arguments, no fighting. A truce, if you will.'

  So that was where he was leading. Why not? she asked herself. There was no surety that Justin would be a match for Val, and she had not given up hope of another pregnancy. In all honesty, she loved the idea of having another child irrespective of any health gains. She had been an only child and as a consequence had often felt lonely. In fact, she could have two or three. . .

  She was beginning to feel quite euphoric; at least this time around he was prepared to share a bed with her, which was odd, when she thought about it.

  She glanced up at him consideringly, through the veil of her thick eyelashes. He was so vitally male and yet before in their brief marriage he had rationed out their lovemaking and she still did not completely understand why. He obviously had no such hang-ups now if the other night was anything to go by.

  Who knew? Propinquity might do what Zoe could not do before; he might actually fall in love with her. Then she remembered Jess.

  'But what about your girlfriend?'

  'Forget the girlfriend. I have.' His dark head bent, his kiss drawing all the air from her body.

  CHAPTER NINE

  'For Val,' Zoe murmured in brief defiance, against his mouth.

  Justin's hands slid down and under her arms, their warmth penetrating the smooth cotton of her sweatshirt, burning into her as he swung her up and into his arms.

  'For Val, yes. But don't kid yourself, Zoe,' he taunted, carrying her up the stairs. 'You want me just as much as I want you. You always have; the last four years haven't dampened the fire.' His lips moved sensuously over hers as he slowly slid her to the ground. 'Only banked it down for a while.'

  She looked away from the passion burning in his eyes, the masculine confidence of his claim infuriating her. She tried to push him away and then she realised that they were in the bathroom. A sudden feeling ofdeja vu engulfed her. The trouble was that Justin was right. She did want him. Years ago she had fantasised about sharing a shower with him.

 

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