by Susan Tracy
"Well, then, I'd prefer to choose my own swim-wear, if you don't mind," Leigh said haughtily, reaching out a hand toward the rack.
Her wrist was caught in a punishing grip.
"But I do mind," he returned smoothly. "Now go ahead or I'll come and put that suit on you myself."
Aware of the glint of determination in the night dark eyes, Leigh knew better than to push her luck. She did not doubt that he would do as he said. Without another word she returned to the dressing room.
The bikini was of the very scanty variety, the three lime green triangles that composed it just covering her. Leigh looked in the mirror and shuddered at the expanse of golden skin the slinky fabric exposed. She was tugging at the halter and wishing for a wrap when she heard Jason's mocking voice outside the door.
"Need any help?"
"No thank you," she said, attempting firmness.
The door opened and there he stood. His eyes measured her, lingering on the swell of her breasts and the curve of her softly rounded thigh. Leigh blushed all over at his prolonged scrutiny. It was as if he were touching her without reaching out a hand.
"Not bad," he said finally, breaking the electric silence between them.
"Of course," he drawled, "you're a little skinny for my taste." With a mocking grin, he turned to go.
"I've just about had it from you, Jason Randall!" She picked up the article that was nearest at hand, which turned out to be a blouse, and flung it at his retreating back. She'd like to toss everything in this room into that smug face! He was having a fine time at her expense.
He wasn't through with her yet.
When Leigh went over to the counter where the saleswoman was folding her purchases neatly into elegant maroon boxes, she found Jason there, his wallet open.
"I'll pay for my own clothes," she whispered. "I have enough money and I'd prefer not to accept anything from you."
He ignored her and counted out a pile of bills.
"Jason," she hissed, too aware of the interested saleswoman nearby, "I said I'm paying." She reached into the depths of her large handbag, but he forestalled her as he casually threw an arm across her shoulders to draw her a few feet away.
"I buy my wife's clothes, Leigh. Don't continue with this or you'll be very sorry." The words were a threat, menace clear in his low voice.
Leigh wrenched out of his hold. She didn't want to cause a scene but neither did she want him buying her anything.
With as much dignity as she could muster, she straightened her spine and conceded.
"All right, for now. But I'll give you a check when we get home."
"Home?" Jason gave her a curious look, then shrugged. "As you like."
After Jason dropped them off at the cottage, Leigh and Jody spent what was left of the afternoon coloring in the new book Leigh had bought. She judged a quiet activity to be a good idea since Jody had had an unusually full day.
They had an early light supper, and before Leigh bathed Jody and dressed her in pajamas, she changed into her own robe. Then they curled up together on the living room sofa while Leigh read the little girl's favorite story, "Sleeping Beauty." She had just ended with "And they lived happily ever after," when she saw Jason, standing just inside the doorway. So engrossed had she been in reading that she hadn't heard him come in, nor had Jody.
He put his attaché case down and walked over to the child, whose eyes were heavy with sleep.
"Bedtime for you, little one," he said gently, picking her up.
"Want Auntie Leigh, too," Jody murmured, so Leigh went along. She was now a permanent member in Jody's bedtime ritual.
The good-nights completed, Leigh followed Jason from the bedroom, clutching at the folds of her amber silk robe.
"I, er, thought you said you'd be late tonight," she said distractedly, wondering how long it would be before Jody was sound asleep enough for her to go back for her clothes.
"I did expect to be, but I got away early." He dropped down on the sofa.
"Have you had dinner? I could go and fix you something." Ill at ease, Leigh realized she was babbling, her voice sounding unnatural to her own ears.
"I'll get something later."
His eyes had not left her face, and Leigh felt the awareness flare between them with the suddenness of a brush fire. Nervously she licked her lips.
"Well, in that case, I'll just go and…"
"Leigh," his voice slid across the room to her, soft and silky. "Come here."
He didn't move, didn't lift a finger, just sat and looked at her. Leigh was mesmerized, gazing back at him, and time seemed to slow, to stand still until nothing existed in that moment but the spell that held them.
Leigh had known this was coming. She hadn't known when or where, but she was sure, all the same. She had seen it in his eyes today in the dressing room at the boutique, the small flame of desire that burned deep in the brown depths of his eyes. Jason Randall wanted her, and what Jason Randall wanted, he took. And the way her pulse was leaping, Leigh wasn't sure she could deny him.
Without resistance she moved across the room toward him and let him pull her down beside him on the sofa.
When his firm lips met hers, all conscious thought fled and her reflexes took over. Very lightly his lips touched hers, then moved to the corner of her trembling mouth, teasing until her nerves were screaming. He kissed her eyelids, her flushed cheeks, the tender hollow at the base of her throat. Leigh put her hand to his chest, feeling the heavy thud of his heartbeats. Slowly she slid her hands up to encircle his neck and to tangle in his crisp black hair. Her touch seemed to enflame him. With a groan he gathered her closer, sensuously molding her body to his.
"Leigh, Leigh," he murmured into the fragrance of her silky tresses. "I've been waiting for this all day."
His kisses deepened as his tongue teased her lips apart and he tasted the sweetness of her mouth. She responded with everything in her being, holding nothing back, giving kiss for kiss, caress for caress. She was floating in another dimension, caught in a fierce desire she had never known. She wanted him to hold her forever, to press her closer, to touch her, to love her.
As if in tune with her pulsing feelings, Jason leaned back a fraction and looked into her cloudy gray eyes.
"Come to my room, little wife," he whispered, his voice husky with desire.
The words froze the bemused Leigh. She actually felt ice starting to form all over her body, and her mind was suddenly crystal clear. Wife. Yes, she was his wife. He had married her without love and that's how he would take her. With desire. But not with love.
Unaware of her tumultuous thoughts, Jason pulled her to her feet and brought her hard against his body to imprison her in the circle of his arms. His head came down and he took her breath away in a possessive, demanding kiss. In spite of her resolution, Leigh could feel herself sinking fast, her knees were weak, her traitorous senses were exploding, and all she wanted was to stay in his arms. Marshalling every ounce of strength she possessed, she said the only thing she could think of that would ensure her release.
"Is this the payment you want for the clothes you bought me today?" she gasped out in desperation.
His face went white, a muscle twitching in his lean jaw. Leigh watched the desire drain slowly out of his eyes to be replaced with contempt. His hands tightened for an instant on her arms before he threw her from him, and then without a word he slammed out of the house.
Leigh crept off to bed, shaking, as miserable as she had ever been in her life. She had known for days that Jason still attracted her, but she had not acknowledged until tonight the incredible strength of that attraction. His mere touch melted her body, even while the cold voice of reason was speaking in her mind. All Jason had to do was come close and her carefully imposed restraints dissolved into thin air.
In the next few days, Jason treated her with a cold civility. It was as if she was someone he had hired to look after his niece and that's all she was to him. Not that he was at the cottage much. Althoug
h he still managed to spend some time each day with Jody, he deftly avoided Leigh. Where he spent his evenings she had no idea. Often, lying sleepless, she heard him come in during the early hours of the morning, only to leave again for work a few hours later. How he stood such a punishing pace, she did not know.
As for herself, she fought the strain she was under by keeping busy. She devised little projects for Jody, and when Jody was sleeping, found relief in the pure physical labor of sanding down the living room walls in readiness for painting.
One Sunday afternoon, Jason surprised her by suggesting that they all go over to the main house.
"The remodeling is getting near the finishing stages and I'm going to need your help in choosing color schemes and such." He gestured vaguely.
If this was any sort of olive branch, Leigh was going to grasp it, so she quickly agreed and went to get Jody ready.
At the house they found that Smitty was resting, and since Jason had a few business matters to deal with in his study, Leigh took Jody into the garden. Way at the back, they came upon a swing made from a car tire. It was hanging on a long, sturdy rope from the branch of an oak tree.
"This swing was my daddy's and Uncle Jason's," Jody said. Clearly it had been her destination all along. "Will you swing me, please?"
Leigh helped the child maneuver her legs through the hole in the center of the tire, and cautioning her to hold on tightly, gave her a small push. Leigh was pensive as she kept the momentum going. Jason's swing, she mused. Somehow she had never imagined Jason as a child. He was too much a man, too strong and virile. A smile touched her lips. He must have been a handful, a willful little boy with a mop of black hair and mischievous eyes. Realizing the direction her thoughts were taking, Leigh gave herself a mental shake. It was bad enough that the grown man dominated her thoughts, she could do without conjuring up an image of the younger version. With a sigh she gave Jody another push and was rewarded by a shriek of laughter.
Jason came out before Jody had tired of the swing, but once she saw her uncle, nothing would do but that he give her a ride around the garden on his shoulders.
As Leigh watched them, she felt a pain somewhere in the region of her heart. Jason was so good with the little girl. He would make a wonderful father. Suddenly, without warning, a thought struck Leigh. Jason must be planning to get married again. Why else would he be redoing the house, if not for a bride? He had agreed to the annulment readily enough.
Shaken, Leigh leaned back against the rough trunk of a tree. One thing was sure, she shouldn't be the one to help decorate the house for his next wife.
Before she could find a way to voice her objections, however, Jason had turned Jody over to Smitty, now in the kitchen preparing dinner, and bundled Leigh up the stairs.
The kitchen was the only room downstairs that had needed major modernization, he explained, and it was finished. The addition of a glassed-in sun-room facing the terrace and the new pool were almost so. Upstairs was where the work would now be concentrated, primarily the addition of a bathroom to each of the six bedrooms.
"We've tried to let in more light and add modern conveniences without sacrificing the character of the rooms," he told Leigh who Was inspecting a high-ceilinged bedroom, complete with fireplace. "There is quite a lot of Victorian woodworking in some parts of the house that we've preserved."
Her face alight with interest, Leigh smiled at him. "You have a beautiful home, Jason," she said sincerely.
"I'd like you to pick out paint colors or wallpaper, let me know what furnishings need to be replaced, that sort of thing," he said after a moment. "Expense is no object."
"Did, ah, did the house actually need all this work? I mean, was remodeling structurally necessary?"
Jason cast her a studied glance. "No, the house is sound. I suppose you could call it a whim of mine." He put out a lean, brown hand to touch a wooden mantle shelf above the fireplace. "The time had come for a change of life style. I wanted to live more—comfortably, let's say."
He guided her into another room, done in shades of brown and mushroom beige.
Leigh looked around the spacious, airy bedroom that was filled with lustrous oak furniture. Moving from the large four-poster bed, she went to a love seat and several matching chairs grouped around an imposing fieldstone fireplace.
"Oh, how lovely," she exclaimed impulsively. "What a cozy spot to curl up and read."
"I take it you like my bedroom, Leigh." Jason's voice was dry as he joined her by the apricot velvet love seat. "Would you have enjoyed long, quiet evenings here beside the fire with me?"
Yes, yes, screamed Leigh's senses silently, his words creating a forbidden image. Jason, who stood suffocatingly near, stretched out his hand to tip her face up to his. Leigh couldn't have moved if someone yelled fire. It was all she could do to keep the sudden longing she felt from showing on her face, from being revealed to the keen, tormenting eyes watching her so closely.
In self-defense she stepped back, away from him, her wariness intensified.
She knew exactly what he was up to. He was playing with her, showing her what she could have had if she hadn't run away.
With as much composure as she could dredge up, she walked over to a door set into the wall at the side of the room.
"What's in here?"
Jason came and opened the door for her.
"The bathroom and beyond that, the dressing room. Both are going to be enlarged," he added indifferently.
He seemed to lose interest in the tour and motioned Leigh out.
Leigh led the way, but she was trembling inside, afraid of the cold purpose she had sensed in Jason, a man who could create a taunting moment of intimacy between them, deliberately, and then walk coolly away from it. She knew she had to keep her wits about her if she was to emerge unscathed from her relationship with Jason. If she could just keep in mind what he had done, how he had coldly and calculatedly picked her out to be his wife of convenience while letting her think he cared for her. She couldn't trust him an inch.
Downstairs, Leigh discovered that Smitty had cooked dinner for them, and gratefully offered to help. The taciturn Smitty allowed her to take the dishes from the kitchen into the dining room.
The house had been built in the days when large families were the rule, especially on farms where many sons and daughters were needed to help with the work, and the dining room reflect-ed that past. It could comfortably seat twenty-five people, Leigh decided. Several leaves had been removed from the burnished mahogany table, which converted it from oval to round and made it more convenient for the four of them. Against one wall stood a lovely Hepplewhite sideboard, a collector's item, as were the matching chairs around the table. Someone had drawn the gold velvet curtains, shutting out the setting sun, and in the candlelight the room had an old-world charm.
Smitty was a superb cook. She pressed any number of fresh vegetables and the succulent prime rib, swimming in rich juices, on Leigh, who gave in and had an unaccustomed second helping. She almost regretted that extra portion, delectable though it had been, when Smitty served her a large wedge of homemade apple pie, but she managed to finish even that.
"Everything was delicious, Smitty," Leigh said, folding her napkin. "I'll bet I just gained five pounds."
"You could use it," the older woman returned. Leigh caught a flicker of amusement in Jason's eyes.
They took their coffee into the living room, Jody tagging happily along. It was quite a treat for her to be out this late.
Somehow they seemed to be regaining their old footing, for Jason was not as stiff with Leigh and the atmosphere between them was less strained. They were just arguing pleasantly over a book they had both recently read when they heard the front doorbell.
"Now who could that be?" Jason muttered, standing up.
Within minutes Smitty was showing Paula Knight into the room. Stunning in a scarlet jumpsuit, the woman went straight to Jason.
"I'm so sorry to burst in on you like this, Jason, but my
car is acting up." As she paused she saw Leigh across the room.
"Oh, Mrs. Randall. I didn't realize you were here." The words hung lamely on the air.
"That's perfectly all right, Miss Knight." Leigh picked up the heavy silver coffeepot. "Will you have some coffee?"
"Thank you, no. I didn't mean to interrupt your evening, but," she turned wide blue eyes to Jason, "my car is making a funny noise and I didn't want to try to drive it home and chance breaking down. Since I was near here, I thought I'd call on Jason."
At the appeal in the blue eyes, Jason visibly softened. "Of course, Paula, that was the thing to do. I'll go take a look at it. Won't be a minute." He started toward the door.
Paula was right behind him. "I'd like to come with you if you don't mind. That way, I can get some idea of what the problem is."
When Smitty came in for the tray ten minutes later, she found Leigh staring vacantly at the carpet, her coffee cold in the cup.
"Are you going to let her get away with it?" she asked sharply.
"What?" Leigh looked up, startled.
"You know what I mean. The secretary. This isn't the first time she's dropped in here on one pretext or another." Smitty's hands went to perch on her narrow hips.
"She's been after Jason since before you came here, and it looks like not even a wife will stop her."
"I don't have any right to stop her, Smitty. You know that."
"Don't you?" With a disgusted snort, Smitty picked up the tray and went back to the kitchen.
After a few minutes, Jason returned to report that he couldn't find the trouble with the car, and since Paula was reluctant to drive it, he would take her home once he had dropped Leigh and Jody off at the cottage.
Leigh collected Jody, thanked Smitty for the meal, and followed Jason outside. During the short ride, she was very quiet. She had a lot to think about.
Chapter Six
One last swish with the small brush and Leigh was finished. It was a good thing there wasn't another strip of molding to do, she decided, peering into the now empty paint can.