A Husband of Convenience

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A Husband of Convenience Page 11

by Jacqueline Baird


  ‘Please do tell...’ She meant to sound sarcastic but only sounded breathless.

  ‘The bank extended a large loan to a Japanese-American corporation, and it’s in a spot of bother—nothing I can’t handle. But enough about me. How are you, Josie? Not running around after your father and mine, I hope.’

  ‘Hardly. They got your present, and have been studying maps all day. What made you give them a cruise?’ she couldn’t help asking.

  ‘Mainly because they’re both too old to live in a house with builders and decorators all over the place.’

  ‘That was considerate of you.’

  ‘I’m a considerate kind of guy. Hadn’t you noticed?’ he asked, with a chuckle that made her heart spin.

  Belatedly she remembered the car. ‘Yes, I had, and thank you for the car. I love it, but really there was no need. I can drive Dad’s.’

  ‘No, you can not. A new car was a necessity; that old rust-bucket of your father’s is ready for the scrap heap, and you can’t risk your baby’s life, let alone your own, in that thing.’

  Some of the shine went out of the gift for Josie at his comment. ‘Well, thank you again; it’s very nice.’

  ‘You can thank me properly when I get back—or improperly if you like,’ he drawled sexily.

  Her stomach clenched with a shaft of longing so intense, she almost moaned. Instead she wriggled under the bedclothes and the safety of the distance between them gave her the confidence to respond daringly. ‘I might just do that, Conan. But what exactly do you mean by improperly?’ She heard his swiftly indrawn breath, and grinned.

  ‘Josie! Now you ask, when the Atlantic is between us! What are you trying to do to me?’

  ‘Encourage you to return. This bed is far too big and cold for me alone.’ She chuckled out loud at her own audacity.

  ‘Why, you little tease!’ Conan laughed. ‘I hope you’re as brave when I’m in bed with you.’ His voice dropped. ‘Every luscious inch of you naked, exposed for my eyes only. I want to sip at your breast, and taste you with my tongue until you’re delirious with desire.’ It was his turn to tease and it was Josie’s turn to catch her breath at the image he evoked in her mind’s eye.

  ‘Yes, well... Do you realise what time it is? One o’clock in the morning,’ she said inanely to cover her pounding heart.

  ‘The next time we talk at one in the morning I’ll be in bed with you, and I won’t let you change the subject so easily—that’s a promise,’ he declared huskily. ‘But I’m sorry for waking you, though I wouldn’t have missed this conversation for the world. I’ll be back as soon as I can.’

  ‘Make it quick,’ she breathed, her body flushed with heat, and then a sudden attack of nerves had her adding, ‘Happy Christmas, but if you don’t mind...’ She paused.

  ‘You’re tired; I understand. Give my regards to the old men. And, Josie I really am sorry I can’t be with you, but Angela has tried everything without success.’

  Josie stiffened, the mention of Angela enough to cool her overheated flesh. ‘Tell her thanks, but...’ she yawned loudly ‘...I really must get some sleep.’

  ‘I know, darling. Merry Christmas. I’ll be thinking of you, and I’ll be back by next Tuesday at the latest.’

  ‘Don’t hurry on my account,’ she said, more sharply than she had intended, but the mention of Angela had been enough to dent her optimism.

  ‘I’ll see you soon,’ were the last words she heard as she replaced the receiver.

  Josie curled up in bed, and replayed the conversation in her mind. She loved Conan, totally, and the sound of his voice alone was enough to make her ache with frustrated desire. But it was going to be almost another week before she saw him. In the meantime he was with Angela! Though that did not necessarily mean he was sleeping with the woman, she told herself staunchly. Whatever the reason for their marriage, Josie knew when Conan held her he wanted her. Even a man of his experience couldn’t fake his body’s reaction so convincingly. She had decided it was time to give Conan the benefit of the doubt, and their marriage a chance, and she was not going to change her mind now. When he returned she would be a loving, sexy wife and maybe propinquity would do the rest.

  By the following Monday, when she drove her new car into Cheltenham to work, she was almost happy. But when the telephone rang at nine the next night the burgeoning hope she had entertained of starting a meaningful relationship with her husband was killed stone-dead...

  It was Angela, calling from London. Conan had asked her to relay a message. He was still delayed in America, but he hoped to be back by the weekend. Josie might have believed the message was genuine, had it not been for the background noise of a party in progress, and a whispered aside she was not supposed to hear.

  ‘Shhh, Con; she might hear you and guess you’re already back,’ Angela drawled huskily.

  Josie carefully replaced the receiver, and, using tiredness as an excuse, she said goodnight to the old men and walked upstairs.

  Stripping off her clothes, she asked herself, Why? Why did she torture herself so? She had known from the start her love was hopeless. Josie stared at the engagement ring and gold band on her finger. They were only for appearance’s sake, as was her marriage. She had to stop fooling herself. She had to block Conan out of her mind once and for all.

  Josie tried. She drove the Major and her father down to Southampton for their cruise, and waved a cheery goodbye. The weekend came and went with another brief telephone call from Angela. Conan was still delayed. With a heightened sense of determination Josie spent her time reading the book on childbirth she had bought, and started massaging her swollen stomach with baby oil religiously every night. The baby was her only priority.

  Walking into the kitchen on Wednesday morning, Josie sighed at the grim expression on Mrs M.’s face. The old lady did not approve of her working, and Josie listened in silence as the housekeeper declared that it had snowed all night, and Josie had to be mad to go out.

  Ignoring the dire warning, and driving in to the office, Josie told herself she felt better than she had done in months. A new year, a new life, new hope. Who needed a man?

  But at five-thirty in the evening, when she parked her car and walked into the dimly lit hall of the Manor, her confidence took a nose-dive.

  ‘So you’re finally home!’

  She jumped in surprise, the familiar deep, sexy voice shaking her to the core. Conan was leaning nonchalantly against the wood frame of the sitting-room door. Over six feet of solid muscle that the conservative business suit he wore could not tame. Every nerve in her body tightened in direct response to the sensual impact of the man. Nothing had changed. Josie swallowed a groan, frozen to the spot, intensely aware of him.

  ‘What are you doing here? I didn’t see your car,’ she said, her voice higher than she would have wished.

  ‘I parked it round the side,’ Conan straightened and moved towards her, his dark golden eyes glinting with mocking amusement. ‘I thought to surprise my wife, but then I was expecting a more enthusiastic greeting from you,’ he drawled, and, pulling her unresisting figure against the hard length of his, he covered her mouth with his own.

  Only when she was breathless and trembling in every limb did he break the kiss. Looking down at her and noting her dazed violet eyes he said smoothly, ‘That’s more like it. Happy Christmas, Josie.’

  Drawing a deep breath, she battled against her wayward senses, and, schooling her features into what she hoped was a polite smile she responded, ‘Happy Christmas, Conan.’ Pushing her hands against his broad chest, she added, ‘But you’re a bit late. It was two weeks ago.’ Her legs were like jelly, his kiss had shaken her to her bones, but she did not want him to see it, and, brushing past him, she made straight for the sitting room, disturbingly aware of him following her only a step behind.

  Sinking on to the nearest sofa, Josie glanced up at him towering over her. He looked rakishly handsome, his tie loose and his shirt unfastened at the neck, but the gold glint in the dark
eyes that captured hers hinted at danger.

  ‘Not quite the eager response I was hoping for,’ he drawled sardonically.

  ‘Sorry... But in my experience one rarely gets what one hopes for.’ Josie’s voice was tight. Ten days ago she had thought their marriage might have a chance, but no more... Deliberately she fixed her gaze on his chest, and asked the question that had been burning in her brain for a week.

  ‘When did you get back from America?’ Would he admit that he had been back in England since last week? she wondered. But not by a blink of an eye did she betray her thoughts. Instead she tagged on, ‘Did you solve the problem? ’

  ‘I flew in this morning and, yes, I managed to sort everything out successfully.’ She could feel the intensity of his gaze on the top of her head, and she knew he was puzzled by her less than enthusiastic welcome ‘You’re angry because I didn’t get back for the holiday, but I did ring.’

  ‘Yes, Angela gave me your message,’ she said coolly. He had some nerve reminding her...

  ‘I didn’t mean just Angela. I rang and spoke to the Major because you were out. He did tell you?’

  ‘No, he must have forgotten.’ What a liar he was. Somehow Josie had always considered Conan to be strictly honest, but now she realised the opposite was true. She lifted her head, her stormy eyes clashing with his. It was amazing how he managed to look sincere. Yet she knew he had spent the last week in London with Angela. Obviously he took her for a complete fool.

  ‘Much the same as you conveniently forgot to inform me you had gone back to work, I suppose,’ he prompted with silken softness, his eyes narrowing to slits on her upturned face. It was only then she realised he was savagely furious.

  ‘Yes, well, you weren’t here to tell, and Mr Brownlow needed a temporary secretary,’ she flung back, refusing to be intimidated by his sarcasm.

  ‘Yes, nothing! What the hell do you think you are playing at?’ Not waiting for an answer he ploughed on ruthlessly. ‘You’re a pregnant woman, for heaven’s sake, and my wife. Yet I can’t trust you for a moment to look after yourself.’

  Josie did not trust Conan full stop! And his listing her as pregnant first and his wife second only served to stiffen her resolve and gave her the strength to put the plan she had been forming in her head into action.

  ‘Ours is a marriage of convenience, as you well know. And it’s as convenient for me to work as it is for you,’ she said facetiously, and, leaping to her feet, she tried to slip past him.

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous! It’s not the same at all.’ He caught her arm and spun her around to face him. ‘Have you no sense—driving around country roads in the middle of winter in your condition? As of now you are going to do as you are told. You will call Mr Brownlow in the morning and tell him you’re no longer available, and tomorrow you’re returning to London with me.’

  Jerking her arm free, she headed for the door, too incensed to speak. So she was ridiculous! Incapable! Now she knew what he really thought of her.

  A long arm snaked around her waist and hauled her back against his body. ‘Don’t you dare walk away from me, Josie. I haven’t finished with you yet,’ Conan snarled. His hand dug into her side as he swung her around in his arms yet again. Josie felt the frisson of excitement that his touch never failed to arouse and bitterly resented it.

  ‘Well, I’ve finished with you!’ she cried, grasping his arm and trying to wriggle free from his hold. Flinging back her head, she defied him. ‘And I am not giving up my job, or going to London with you, or anywhere else.’ She was furious. How dared he tell her what to do? She was her own woman, even if she hadn’t been behaving as such for a while.

  Stark fury flashed in his dark eyes, and the realisation that he was going to kiss her again came too late for Josie to take evasive action. She felt the hard, demanding pressure of his mouth against her own, and tried to keep her lips closed. But the intense passion, the desire in the savagely hungry kiss, made her mouth open to welcome his thrusting invasion. She knew the danger but was helpless to resist, softening against him as he drew all her strength from her with the power of his sexuality. Shame burned through her, but with it a fierce longing she was helpless to control. And when Conan finally raised his head, his breathing ragged, and they stared at each other, it was Conan who recovered first.

  ‘What happened to the soft, sexy woman I spoke to on Christmas morning, Josie? I don’t understand. I can see the desire in your eyes, for heaven’s sake! Why deny it?’ he challenged in a deep, rasping voice.

  Humiliated by her abject surrender to his kiss, she fought to keep her breathing steady and bravely forced her eyes back to his.

  ‘Put it down to my condition and hormones, if you like. But don’t try and tell me what to do. You are not my keeper.’

  ‘Oh, but technically I am,’ Conan drawled, with a sardonic tilt of one brow.

  Colouring furiously, Josie could not deny he had kept her very comfortably for months, and it made her madder than hell! ‘Not any more,’ she raged. ‘I can earn my own living; I don’t need some pompous oaf telling me what to do.’

  ‘Why, you...’ Conan snarled, his dark glance raking over her with savage intensity. ‘You selfish little bitch.’ His arm tightened around her, and she raised her hand to ward him off, fearful of this wild-eyed man. Perhaps ‘oaf had been a bit strong, but Conan drove her to it.

  ‘Josie.’ He said her name, sensing her fear. Dropping one hand from her waist, he ran it distractedly through his hair. His dark eyes sought hers, a hint of regret in their depths. ‘Please, Josie, don’t be afraid of me. I’m sorry; I’m not used to dealing with a pregnant woman.’

  ‘You don’t have to deal with me,’ she sneered, but inside she was shaking. She wished he would simply let her go. Talking was getting them nowhere, but the way he was holding her, his hard body pressing lightly against her, was arousing a host of erotic sensations she could not control. She felt her breasts swell against the soft wool of her shirt, and the fact that she was responding to him despite herself only infuriated her further.

  ‘But I want to. I remember how you were in my arms the last night we were together in London,’ Conan reminded her softly.

  ‘Well, I don’t.’

  ‘You have a short memory,’ he derided, and, lifting his free hand to cup her chin, he added, ‘Let me remind you.’ With a slight tilt to his mouth, he smiled, and it took all her will-power to resist the deliberate sensual invitation in his gold-flecked eyes.

  Josie took a deep, steadying breath, forcing herself to meet his gaze as she put her plan into words. ‘No, thanks. I meant what I said, Conan. I am not coming back to London. I’m staying here, and I’ll be moving out of this house as soon as I can get an apartment. My work is here, my friends are here, and the area holds special memories for me.’

  She nearly choked on the lie she was about to tell. ‘I’m sure Charles would have expected me to stand on my own two feet and look after his child.’ She watched the smile disappear from Conan’s face, but still she carried on. ‘I’m going to attend the clinic in Cheltenham until the birth of my baby. It’s all arranged. I’m sure you understand; after all, you have friends in London—you don’t need me,’ she finished smoothly, but inside she was quaking. His arm around her waist tightened, his face flushed dark red.

  ‘When the hell have you ever considered my needs?’ he snarled, his fingers gripping on to the side of her jaw. He looked as if he wanted to shake her, but instead he suddenly set her free, and marched across the room to stand looking out of the window with his back to her.

  Josie collapsed back on the sofa. His rage had surprised her. She thought he would have been relieved she was giving him a clear field in London with Angela. She glanced at him, and could see the effort he was making to control his temper. His hands were curled into fists at his sides, and she could sense the tension in the set of his wide shoulders.

  ‘You realise the builders are moving in to renovate the rest of the house, and I won’t be a
ble to get down here much in the next few months?’ Conan finally broke the fraught silence, with a complete change of subject. Then, slowly turning he crossed to where she sat. ‘You will be alone with Mrs M. Is that what you want?’ he demanded harshly.

  ‘Yes,’ she confirmed bluntly.

  ‘You know you would be much better looked after in London. The private clinic is far superior to the cottage hospital here.’ Suddenly he bent over her, one hand on the arm of the sofa, the other behind her head on the back of the sofa.

  The breath caught in her lungs; he was heart-breakingly close, and she was not sure she could hold out against his lethal charm. ‘So you say,’ Josie murmured. She could see the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, and she could almost believe it was a pleading gleam in his dark gaze, instead of anger.

  ‘Forget about me, Josie, and think what’s best for your unborn child.’

  ‘I have and I’m staying in the country.’

  ‘Is that your final word?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said emphatically.

  ‘Right, then,’ Conan abruptly straightened up. ‘If that’s what you want, far be it from me to deny you.’ Glancing down at her, he fixed her with a look of such contempt that she cringed. ‘I honestly thought it was simply the timing that was wrong between you and me. But I was wrong. You’re the worst kind of tease. Promising the world over the telephone. “This bed is far too big and cold for me alone.”’ He mimicked her own words viciously.

  ‘You know, Josie—’ his dark eyes raked her from head to toe, stripping her with a glance ‘—I felt sorry for you, caught up with Charles, but I was wrong. No wonder Charles kept a mistress with you as his partner. You have the body of a woman and the mind of a child. In fact I have finally realised you and Charles were the perfect couple—both spoilt children, you deserved each other.’

  ‘It’s a pity you didn’t come to that conclusion before you married me,’ Josie shot back, furious at being called a child; as for the rest, she didn’t care.

  Conan’s lips curved in a knowing smile that never reached his eyes. ‘Perhaps you’re right. I hope for your sake the memory of Charles will keep you warm in bed at night, but I doubt it.’

 

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