'Quite easily,' Jess offered drily. 'You ran away to London and he barely saw you for two years. He thought he had made the same mistake again and that was why you ran out on the marriage.'
A comment from the terrible night of their argument slipped into Zoe's mind—Justin saying ironically, 'And I thought I was being considerate,' when she had taunted him with Janet's words about his sexual exploits. Could he have been telling the truth? Was Jess's almost too simple explanation the right one? If so she realised that she had made a mistake of mega, mega proportions.
Jess was still talking and she listened with mounting horror, and the growing conviction that Jess was right.
'Until, that is, he followed you to the airport the last day, saw you in the arms of your American friend and realised you had a lover, that you had betrayed him. . .'
'But I never. . .' Zoe cried.
'It's not much good telling me that. It's Justin you have to convince, though to be honest I was under the impression that the pair of you had sorted out your differences.
'He told me last Saturday in London all about the child. He was furious at your hiding Val from him, but I know my brother and I knew he had already forgiven you. You were sharing his bed again, and he was vibrant—fully alive for the first time in years. But if the look on his face tonight was anything to go by you've crushed him again.'
'No—deflated his ego maybe.' And in a few, succinct sentences Zoe explained her attempt to seduce Justin into making her pregnant and how he had discovered the truth. To her amazement Jess started to laugh.
'My God, what a pair.'
'Excuse me if I don't see the joke,' Zoe said sarcastically. 'The man I love is going to divorce me; that's not funny, it's tragic.'
'But don't you see? There is my beloved brother terrified of his own strength, determined to treat you gently, and there you are, a tiny woman, equally determined to get him into bed, never mind that you thought I was his live-in girlfriend.'
One dark brow arched elegantly. 'And look who won! It's hilarious; you're as strong as he is, if not more so. You make a great couple. Or you will if you ever get your act together.'
Jess's chuckle ended in a wide yawn. 'I'm going to bed. If you take my advice, Zoe, I suggest you set about seducing my brother yet again, simply for yourself.' And with that parting shot she got up and left the room.
For a long time Zoe stared sightlessly into the flames of the open fire, rehashing Jess's conversation in her mind. It made a lot of sense, and it explained a good deal of the past. If she believed her. . .
Standing up, she slowly walked upstairs. She hesitated outside Justin's door, then moved on to Val's room. She gazed down at the sleeping child, and said a silent prayer of thanks and hope for his well-being. She kissed his smooth brow, and headed for the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, showered, her only covering a fluffy white bathrobe belted loosely around her waist, and with her face scrubbed clean of make-up, her hair brushed to a silken silver sheen falling in soft waves down her back, she quietly closed her son's bedroom door, and tiptoed along the hall to her own room—the room she shared with Justin. . .
Her mind made up, she took a deep breath and, squaring her slender shoulders, pushed open the door and walked in. A single lamp was burning on the bedside table, illuminating the figure reclining on the large bed.
'Justin?' she began unsteadily, her hands curled into fists to stop their trembling. He was propped up against the pillows, a book in his hand. He was bare-chested, the hand-crafted quilt draped across his thighs covering his essential maleness.
'Zoe.' She looked at his face and flinched at the look of cold anger in his dark eyes. 'Why are you here?' he demanded harshly, the hand holding the book lowering to the bed.
'This is my room,' she mumbled defensively.
'Possession is nine tenths of the law,' he drawled sarcastically, 'and last night you made it abundantly clear that you preferred to sleep with our son. If you imagine for a second that I will swap places with you and sleep in that bunk forget it.'
'No. I mean, I thought. . .' She was stumbling over her words, but he sounded so chillingly remote that she had no idea how to continue.
'Don't try to think. I've had quite enough of your machiavellian thoughts for one day,' he informed her hardly. 'Dr Lark saw to that.'
'That's what I wanted to talk about—I meanI didn't ' She could not find the words 'set out to seduce you'; after all, she had. How could she explain that within minutes of being in his arms again her only thought had been how much she'd missed and needed him?
'For heaven's sake! Get to bed; you look worn out.'
He lifted the book and resumed reading. She was dismissed . . . Her shoulders slumped and she half turned, and then she stopped. No, damn it! She would not meekly bow out. Justin had said, 'Get to bed,' and that was exactly what she was going to do.
Swinging on her heel, her blue eyes glittering with rising excitement, she ran across to the bed. A tug of the belt at her waist and a shrug saw her towelling robe fall to the floor, and, catching the corner of the coverlet in one hand, in a second she had jumped into the wide bed.
'What the hell. . .' he roared. The book went flying through the air and the quilt slid down to his lean hips as he raised himself up against the headboard and stared down at her with a look of incredulous amazement in his dark eyes. 'What do you think you're doing?'
'You did say, "Get to bed,"' she said innocently and, turning on her side, she deliberately placed her small hand on his hard, flat stomach; she felt his muscles tense and his hand dropped to grab her wrist.
'Don't be frightened, Justin,' she prompted sweetly, mischief dancing in her eyes. For once she had surprised him and she intended to make full use of the advantage. 'I won't hurt you.'
She felt him stiffen; his fingers on her wrist tightened like a manacle and suddenly she was no longer in control. She was flat on her back with Justin looming over her.
'I will never give you the chance again,' he said harshly, flinging one long leg across her thighs, pinning her to the bed, while his hands formed a cage at either side of her head. 'I've promised you I'll try and save our son. I've agreed to divorce you. Damn it, Zoe, what else do you want from me?'
She stared up at the ruthless, dark face and the breath caught at the back of her throat. His Latin temperament had certainly broken through now, she thought, a sliver of fear racing down her spine. But he looked tired as well as angry. Dark shadows under his eyes were accentuated by the tautness of the skin over his high cheekbones.
'Answer me, damn you.'
'Nothing else,' she whispered, and, dredging up her last vestige of courage, she added, 'In fact, I don't want a divorce either. I want to stay with you—in your bed, in your life.' She felt the blood pounding in her ears; the touch of his hard, hot naked body against hers was dangerously arousing.
He reared back and surveyed her through half-closed lids. 'Am I supposed to believe that?' he asked with dry cynicism, his narrowed gaze angling down over her breasts. She felt her nipples peak in instant response, and cursed her inability to remain calm around him.
'What exactly are you after now, I wonder?' he mused, and bent slowly towards her. Shockingly his tongue licked tantalizingly over one taut nipple, before he lifted his head and added silkily, 'Or shall I guess?'
'Only you,' she breathed.
'Funny, I seem to remember last night you couldn't get rid of me quick enough, and yet last Friday you couldn't crawl into my bed fast enough.' Taunting mockery glittered in his eyes. 'I was flattered until today, when I discovered you were simply using me as a stud.'
'I'm sorry, I should have told you the truth—trusted you to do the right thing,' she freely admitted, but he was not placated.
'Yes, damn it! Yes, you should.' He swore in another flash of anger, his dark eyes burning down into hers. But as she gazed helplessly up at him, expecting the worst, he took a deep, indrawn breath, his mouth tightened and he was once more in c
ontrol.
'I've had time to think about it and in fairness I can't condemn you for using me; I don't like it, but you had the best reason in the world—Val.' He moved his leg slowly, tantalisingly up her thigh, still holding her gaze.
'But now, tonight, you say you want me. Odd, this, from a wife who ran off with another man. For a wife I haven't seen for years. For a wife who forced herself to sleep with me for the sake of a child.'
There was derision in his face as his hard eyes swept down over her, inspecting her nakedness as she lay beneath him, then back to her wide, luminous blue eyes. 'I'm not a complete idiot, Zoe. Come on, tell me. Why?'
His distrust was only to be expected, she thought. God knew, she had shown little enough trust in him during their brief marriage; a bit of bitchy gossip and the drunken ravings of an ex-girlfriend and she had taken flight. She had no intention of making the same mistake again. But where to start? The beginning, perhaps. It meant baring her soul, leaving herself open to his ridicule, but she was going to try.
'Because I love you; I've always loved you,' she said bravely, reaching up to lay her hand on his broad chest. He looked very big, very remote, but she felt the heavy thump of his heart beneath her fingertips, and noted a betraying flicker of his long eyelashes; it gave her hope and then he smiled, and a frisson of fear darted up her spine.
'And I am supposed to believe you, and clasp you to my manly chest? Is that why you're here?'
The mockery in his deep voice was evident, but she refused to be cowed by it. 'No, I don't expect you to believe me, but I fully intend to convince you eventually,' she said boldly, hiding her fear. 'You're a very large man, very strong—to some people your power might be intimidating, but it never was to me.'
Her face was somber, her voice low. 'I remember the first time we met and you held me on your lap and dried my tears. You were my gentle giant, and I had a terrible crush on you. By my eighteenth birthday party, the crush had changed to love, and I wanted you so badly.'
He sent her a sharp glance, and smiled without humour. 'Not that badly—you were terrified when I kissed you, touched you.'
She chuckled softly, gaining confidence, 'Oh, no, Justin; I wasn't frightened of you.' She allowed her fingers to curl in his chest hair. 'You were so sexy, my dreamboat. But I simply panicked; I was terrified by my own reaction; the feelings were so overwhelming that I couldn't handle them. But later, alone in bed, I ached and wished you were with me.'
'You don't have to lie,' he growled, the wariness in his expression giving her more hope. 'I know I came on too strong and you were disgusted.'
'I wasn't disgusted then, and I'm not lying now. I've always wanted you,' she husked provocatively, her sapphire eyes fixed on his. 'I want you now,'
A cruel, sensuous smile twisted his hard mouth. 'Yes, I can believe that. Four years on, and a few lovers later, you're hardly the shy, young thing I married.'
She flinched at his harsh words, but could not really blame him for thinking so badly of her. 'There was no other man, ever,' she said bluntly, willing him to believe her. 'The only difference between the last few nights we have spent together and the brief duration of our marriage is that now you treat me as a mature woman.
'Before you saw me as a child bride needing protection. I never did; all I needed was you, in my bed at night—all night.'
She saw the glitter in his eyes, and for a moment thought she was winning—until he stopped her wandering hand on his chest with his own much larger one.
'Why should I believe you? The girl I married would never have dared to try and seduce a man into bed as you did with me last week.' He held her hand hard against his heart while his other hand laced through her long hair, lifting her face up to his. He studied her palefeatures through narrowed eyes; only a nerve twitching in his jaw betrayed his tension.
'The man I married would not have let me,' she said flatly. 'You were always in control, always restrained. Did you really think, young as I was, I wouldn't recognise the fact?'
'And that bothered you?' he asked quickly, a dark flush spreading across his high cheekbones. 'You wanted more?'
'Yes,' she said simply. 'But I was too young and too in awe of you to tell you, and then after Uncle died you became even more withdrawn; you worked all hours, and didn't seem to need me at all. Then tonight Jess told me that you thought you were too old for me; that you tried to be noble.'
She knew she had to discuss everything, get it all out into the open, but it was hard. Justin had given her very little reason to hope.
Nevertheless, taking her courage in both hands, she told him everything Jess had said and ended with, 'I know how your mother died, and I thought perhaps it wasn't simply that you didn't love me but maybe because you were trying to be considerate. I remembered you once said that.'
She was rambling on but did not seem able to stop; she was too frightened. What if she had made a mistake, and he didn't care for her?
'God damn you, Zoe! Why, oh, why did you not tell me this before?' His mouth ground down on hers and he kissed her as if he would devour her whole.
When she was finally allowed to breathe she gazed bemusedly up into his brilliant dark eyes.
'Have you any idea of the agony I went through, leaving you every night?' he groaned, easing her back into the bed, his large body hard over her. 'Too terrifiedto stay with you because I didn't trust myself to keep my hands off you, again and again and again.'
Happiness, sharp and sweet, surged through her. It was going to be all right. Justin slid his hand slowly down, over her breast, the indentation of her waist and lower, to linger on her slim thigh, and she moaned low in her throat. His hard mouth closed over hers in a ruthless, masterful kiss, and her hands helplessly sought his strong neck and tangled in his black hair.
He lifted his head, his mouth curving in a self-derisory smile. 'God, Zoe! You were my muse, my idol from the very first moment I saw you. You terrified me. I only had to look at you to want you, and I knew that if I touched you I'd be lost; you were, and are, everything I ever wanted. I loved you, but I was terrified of losing you. You were so young, so innocent, so tiny.'
'It wasn't because Uncle Bertie told you to marry me?' She sighed, closing her eyes and searching with parted lips for his mouth.
'No, Zoe.' He rolled off her and, propping himself up on one elbow, stared down at her flushed, bemused face. 'First it had little or nothing to do with my mother. In fact, some people might say it was a lovely way to go.' He chuckled. 'But Bertie was involved.'
'You don't need to tell me.' She wasn't sure that she wanted to know the whole truth.
'Hush, Zoe, I do. Jess was right in a way. I took Janet to your eighteenth out of a misguided sense of nobility, but one look at you in that mini nightgown and I was a goner.
'I was sure I had frightened you away for good, and I'm not proud of the fact but for the next few months I did have a brief affair with Janet. It meant nothing and was soon over. Eventually I confided in Bertie how I felt about you and the fact that I thought I had lost you forever. He told me not to be so negative.'
'So you did discuss me with Uncle Bertie,' she said warily.
'Exactly! And that was why, when you accused me of doing so, I couldn't deny it, but not for the reason you thought. Bertie was a shrewd old bird and advised me to wait a year or two, allow you to finish your studies and mature a little, and then try again with a little more restraint.'
'I see. I think.'
'He loved you deeply, Zoe—almost as much as I did— and I stupidly took his advice again later when we got engaged. It was his suggestion—the master suite. He thought if I took things slow and gentle, curbed my baser instincts. . .' He smiled wryly. 'Well, you know the rest. It backfired spectacularly.'
The refurbishment of the master suite had been her uncle's wedding present; she had forgotten that. 'And I thought you didn't care and you thought I was too young, too fragile. . .' She touched his strong face with one hand. 'And I allowed my insecurit
y and other idle gossip to chase me away from you,' she concluded sadly.
He stared, his face grim. 'Are you sure that was all that sent you running? Not the handsome Texan, your secret valentine?'
'I always thought you sent the cards. You pretended you had sent the last one,' she said, with a grin that quickly vanished under his scowling frown.
'I followed you the last day; I saw you at the airport.'
'I swear it was pure coincidence that I met Wayne in the departure lounge.'
He caught her hand in his, his fingers tightening painfully around hers. 'And was it coincidence that you shared his house?' he said, with an edge of cruelty.
'Necessity.' She stared up into his strong, attractive face and willed him to believe her. I had to wait until he'd arranged my finances, and I had nowhere else to go; I was a whimpering wreck without you. But Wayne and I were never more than friends.'
Slowly the pressure on her hand relaxed, and he said deeply, 'I believe you, Zoe.' He kissed her long and tenderly. Picking her up in his arms and rolling on to his back, he held her close against his strong body. 'I have to.' He groaned as he kissed her again with aching sweetness. 'I love you.'
She wanted him to make love to her, but she wanted him really to believe her, and, forcing herself to lift her head, she leant back, her hands splayed across his muscular chest.
'And I love you.' She gazed down, her eyes wide and pleading on his handsome face. 'And I only allowed you to think Wayne was my lover because when you arrived in California you were so cold.' She shuddered with remembered pain. 'So remote, and you never wanted to see me again.'
'I lied; I came to fetch you home, but when I saw you in that man's home, looking so sleek and content, I was so hurt, so angry that I could barely speak. I had to get away.'
'But you refused to divorce me.'
He tensed suddenly, and looked at her with hard eyes. 'I love you, I would do anything for you, but I'm not the kind of generous soul who would hand over the love of his life to another man.'
She studied him from beneath lowered lashes. 'Then why tonight did you say I could have a divorce?'
The Valentine Child Page 16