‘Josie.’ His hand closed over her shoulder. ‘Josie, darling, take it easy. You’re in shock.’
She shrugged his hand off her shoulder and staggered out of the bathroom. Shock...? Was that what he called it, when her whole life was exposed as a lie?
‘Please, Josie, lie down; I’ll call the doctor.’ Conan followed her into the bedroom.
Josie spun around to face him, her violet eyes flashing fury. ‘No doctor, not yet. Why? Tell me why you lied to me,’ she cried. ‘Why did you let me think the baby was yours? What kind of sick pleasure did you get from fooling me?’
‘It was hardly the time to tell you. You were unconscious in hospital for a week, or have you forgotten?’ he bit out grimly, and, pulling at the tie at his throat, he flung off his jacket and shirt. ‘And now is not the time to talk about it. You’re tired, you’ve had a shock and you’re not thinking straight.’
‘But I am thinking straight, for the first time in months,’ Josie snapped. ‘No thanks to you. And I’m leaving.’ She headed for the door, the only thought in her head to get as far away from Conan as possible. He caught her before she had taken two steps and swept her up in his arms, and deposited her firmly in the middle of the bed.
‘Let go of me; let go,’ she cried, but he was sprawled beside her, his hands holding her shoulders pinned to the bed.
‘Stop it, Josie; you’re becoming hysterical, and it can’t be good for the baby.’
She stared up at him with anguished eyes. What did he care? It wasn’t his baby, she thought bitterly, and opened her mouth to tell him so, but never got the chance.
‘I know regaining your memory must be traumatic for you, and I am prepared to make some allowances, but let’s get one thing straight. You are not going anywhere. Is that clear?’ he demanded hardily.
My, how magnanimous of him! He would make allowances for her. The gall of the man was unbelievable! Anger, ice-cold anger, surged through Josie. He was talking to her as if she were a six-year-old child, but then he had been doing that for months.
‘As crystal, but you can’t stop me, not any more,’ she declared with as much force as she could muster—which wasn’t a lot, she realised furiously, when she tried to sit up and ended up flat on her back on the bed with Conan lying half over her.
‘Get off me, you great brute! I can’t bear you to touch me!’ she yelled.
‘I don’t remember you objecting to my touching you for the past few months—in fact quite the opposite. On more than one occasion you couldn’t wait to get my clothes off.’
Her face burned at his mocking reminder, and she closed her eyes against the amusement she could see lurking in his. She was furious with herself at how easily he affected her, while he took her for a fool.
‘Look at me, Josie,’ he commanded.
She felt the warmth of his breath against her cheek and slowly opened her eyes. He was no longer amused; his handsome face was inches from her own and she shivered beneath the intensity of his gaze.
‘You’re pregnant, you’re not thinking clearly, but if you will listen to me for a moment I can explain everything.’
But she did not want to. Bitterly, Josie realised Conan would have no trouble persuading her into his arms, lying beneath him, with his naked chest barely touching her breasts, his long leg hard against her side. Already she could feel the familiar weakness flooding through her, and she was never going down that route again. Calling up all her self-control, she forced herself to remain calm. ‘Don’t waste your time. We have nothing to say to each other. You tricked me, used me—’
‘I never used you,’ he cut in tautly. ‘We are man and wife, and what we’ve shared for the past few weeks was a mutual passion. I’m not about to let you turn your back on everything—on us—for some stubborn misplaced pride.’
‘Stubborn pride!’ she spluttered. ‘You have a nerve. I wasn’t your wife. Ours was a marriage of convenience! Something you omitted to tell me when you were oh, so solicitous in the hospital!’ she sneered. Did he take her for a complete idiot? He did not like her comment; she could tell by the tension in his long body. But he refused to be riled.
‘I am not going to argue over the past, Josie. It has no relevance now. The important point is you are my wife in the fullest sense of the word, and when you have time to think about it you’ll realise nothing has changed.’
‘But everything has changed. You lied to me.’
‘I never lied to you, my one sin, if you could call it that, was I omitted to tell you about your past, but only because I didn’t want you to worry, in your delicate condition,’ he said, his dark eyes shadowed with concern.
‘Worry me!’ she cried. His concern was not for her, she thought grimly. It was probably because his deviousness had been discovered. ‘My God! Don’t you think I’m worried now?’ She couldn’t stop herself. ‘I lay on this bed with you. We made...’ No, it had not been love, and that was where the real hurt lay, Josie recognised bitterly.
‘Go on, say it,’ Conan prompted. ‘We made love.’
‘It was only sex,’ she spat out
‘If it was only sex, it was very good sex, and I have no intention of giving it up,’ he drawled mockingly. His dark head lowered and his lips sought hers, and she turned her head away—anything to avoid his traitorous mouth.
‘Come on, Josie.’ he cajoled against her ear. ‘If you were honest, you would admit you really don’t want to leave me. You love how I make you feel. You know you do,’ he declared, his thigh pressing into her as he slid his hands down her arms and back up in a seductive caress.
‘No.’ She pushed him, catching him unawares, and shot off the other side of the bed. Coldly, she turned to stare down at him sprawled on his back across the bed. His arrogance was only exceeded by his masculine conceit in his own powers of persuasion, she thought furiously.
‘It’s no good, Conan; I’m wise to you now, and I will never allow myself to be used by you again. Charles...’ She got no further.
Conan leapt off the bed, his dark eyes shooting flames. ‘I wondered when you’d get around to him,’ he bit out, all pretence of caring gone. ‘In that crazy head of yours you probably imagine you’ve been unfaithful to his memory.’
For a split second Josie thought she saw pain in his eyes. Then he hauled her into his arms. Ruthlessly his mouth ground down on hers, filled with rage and frustration. She was powerless to push him away; her hands were trapped between their bodies. She squirmed frantically in his iron grip, keeping her mouth firmly closed. Her fear of betraying her love for him and a burning sense of injustice gave her the strength to resist him. He lifted his head.
‘That ploy won’t work, Josie. You want me, not a dead man. I know you—two minutes on that bed and you’ll be begging me for it,’ he snarled.
Something snapped in Josie at his words. ‘You don’t know me at all!’ she cried. ‘You Zarcourt men are all the same—users and takers—and I wish I’d never set eyes on any of you.’ Conan’s hands dropped to his sides. The stunned expression on his face would have surprised Josie if she had noticed it, but she was too lost in her own hell, and everything she had kept bottled up for months came pouring out.
‘First Charles got me drunk, or I would never have gone to bed with him. Then I found out I was pregnant.’ Her eyes darkened with anguish as she relived the moment in her mind. ‘Then you and your father used my condition for your own ends—the old man hoping to replace the son he had lost and you... You were worse. A plot of earth and bricks was your obsession.’
‘No, Josie.’ He reached out for her, and she slapped his hand away.
‘Even my own father quite happily gave up our home at your instigation, and I, poor fool, was so ashamed, so confused. I let you all get away with it. But not any more. I’m finished with the lot of you.’ It was true; she had had more than she could stand of lies and deceit. ‘From now on it’s going to be just me and my child, and the rest of you can go to hell!’
‘Josie, stop. Do
n’t get upset.’ With his own temper firmly under control, Conan was trying to calm her down. ‘You’ll make yourself ill again.’
‘And that would suit you just fine, because then you could lie to me some more, play the caring husband!’ she raged.
‘You’re being ridiculous. I would never intentionally hurt you, you must know that!’ he reasoned, once again reaching out to her.
She stepped back. ‘I suppose pretending you and I had a normal marriage, when you knew I would find out the truth eventually, wasn’t designed to hurt me,’ she scoffed. ‘Pretending to be the father of my child!’
Her last comment finally cracked his iron control. ‘No, damn it. I never told you the truth.’ He caught her arm and held her, his dark eyes blazing down into hers. ‘But can you blame me? Before your accident you had cut me out of your life and, God help me, I wanted you. I love you. You must know I do!’ He swore in exasperation.
Josie laughed in his face. Yesterday she would have exulted in his declaration of love, but today she knew better.
‘No. The only thing you ever loved was the Beeches estate.’ She stood only inches away from him, her body quivering with righteous indignation. ‘Please don’t insult my intelligence any further.’ She watched a myriad of emotions flicker and fade in his eyes: anger, passion, humiliation. No, nothing could humiliate Conan; he was far too arrogantly male, overwhelmingly male. She must have imagined it, she thought dryly as his lips twisted in a cynical smile.
‘You never believed me before your amnesia; why should I expect you to believe me now? But it was worth a try,’ he drawled, and, letting go of her arm, he added, ‘Go to bed; you look shattered. I’ll sleep in the guest room, and we can discuss our future arrangements in the morning.’
Josie should have felt elated; she had won the argument. Conan was gone, and she was left with the anguish of her thoughts. She cringed with humiliation when she thought of the way she had abandoned herself to his lovemaking, and all the time he had been using her while waiting for Angela to return. Never again, she vowed silently. She would never forgive his betrayal.
CHAPTER TEN
SHE opened her eyes. Conan was standing by the bed, wearing only a navy blue towelling robe and holding a tray with a pot of tea and some toast on it. A smile parted her lips. ‘For me?’ Then she remembered.
‘Get out of my room!’ she snapped, sitting up in bed and eyeing Conan with disgust.
‘No.’ His gaze narrowed angrily on her mutinous face. ‘You and I need to talk.’
‘I have nothing to say to you, and I intend to leave here as soon as possible.’
‘No, you’re not. In the eyes of the world, we are a married couple expecting a baby, and that’s the way it’s going to stay.’
‘Says who?’ she taunted. ‘The lying swine who pretended to be the father of my child, my lover?’ It incensed her anew to think how he had tricked her.
‘There was no pretence in our lovemaking; you enjoyed it as much as I did, and I never lied to you. I might have been economical with the truth, but I never lied.’
‘You’re unbelievable,’ she fumed. ‘I asked you straight out, if you were the only man I’d known, and you said yes.’
‘Cast your mind back, Josie. I said you were a virgin when we first met, and you were. As I discovered the second time we met, when I found you in my bed,’ Conan drawled sardonically.
Josie went red, then white at his reminder. ‘Sophistry is obviously your strong point.’
‘Maybe, but I’m not about to discuss my character with you.’ He was furious and it showed in his eyes as they raked over her pale features. ‘All you need to remember is you are my wife, and you will behave as such. Hopefully, when you get over your childish resentment at what you see as my deceiving you, you will realise it’s the best for everyone concerned. Until then we’ll carry on as before.’
‘No way!’ Josie exclaimed. ‘You are not sharing my bed, ever again. I’ll sleep in the street before I’ll let you touch me.’
‘And this from the woman who declared I was her soul mate.’ His mouth curled cynically. ‘Don’t worry, Josie, you have nothing to fear from me; my only intention is to fulfil my side of the bargain and look after you and the baby. And if you use your head for a moment instead of your hormones you’ll realise you have to stay here with me. You have nowhere else to go,’ he ended scathingly, and walked out.
He was right in one respect. She did not have anywhere else to live. Josie faced up to the truth, and the last of her illusions vanished. She was heavily pregnant, her father, who might have helped her, was halfway around the world, and Conan was powerful and determined enough to make her stay, whether she wanted to or not...
The weeks dragged past. Josie avoided Conan as much as she could, but he insisted on accompanying her to the doctor, and sat there displaying all the concerns of an expectant father, much to Josie’s chagrin. They were coolly polite over dinner every evening, the only meal they shared. Josie spent most of her time reading in her bedroom. Pamela and Belinda called and they went shopping a couple of times, but basically Josie was trapped in Conan’s home.
When she looked at Conan, tall and handsome, and aloof, she tormented herself with thoughts of him in bed with Angela, and then lashed out at him with scathing insults on his character, or lack of it. Her anger only intensified when he took all her snide remarks without comment.
Easter came and went, and with the arrival of the warmer weather Josie’s frustration grew, as did her stomach. She felt like a duck waddling around.
Over dinner one night her frustration boiled over. ‘I want to go to Beeches,’ she declared. ‘The renovations must be finished by now.’
Conan looked across at her, his expression inscrutable. ‘Why?’
‘To get away from you,’ she shot back, but it wasn’t true. Studying him through her lowered lashes, she realised Conan looked as tired and depressed as she felt, and she had an overwhelming urge to reach out to him and smooth the worry-lines from his broad brow.
That was really why she had to get away from him. If she didn’t she was in danger of falling at his feet and begging him to love her.
Conan stood up and walked around to where she sat, and knelt by her chair, his head on a level with her own. She was so astonished that when he reached out and caught her hands in his she let him.
‘Josie, I know you hate me, and you think you have good reason, but everything I have done, I have done for you and the baby.’
‘Including sleeping with me?’ she said coldly.
‘And that’s what bothers you most, isn’t it? You can’t forgive me for making love to you, but, worse, you can’t forgive yourself for enjoying it.’
She tried to push back her chair and stand up. She did not need to hear this. But Conan’s hands tightened on hers, his expression darkening angrily.
‘You’re not a child, although you’ve been behaving like one for the past few weeks, and I’ve let you get away with it because of your condition. I do understand how you feel, and I want to help. Tomorrow you have an appointment with Dr Masters. If the doctor agrees I’ll take you down to Beeches this weekend when your father and the Major are due back. But only for a few days. Then you return here with me.’
‘Your prisoner,’ she snorted.
‘No, your protector. I’m not an ogre, Josie, I’m your husband, and you’re expecting your first baby in a few weeks. You’re excited and afraid, and you need someone. That someone has to be me.’
‘But...’ Josie said huskily, touched against her will by the concern in his tone.
He captured her open mouth, stopping her objection, and started to kiss her tenderly, his tongue exploring her mouth with erotic delight, before he finally sat back on his haunches, his eyes smiling into hers.
‘No buts... Nothing is as bad as it seems,’ he said quietly, and stood up. ‘Now go to bed before I forget my good intentions and carry you there.’
Josie’s Thursday appointment with Dr Mas
ters went without a hitch. Her blood pressure was a bit high, the doctor informed Conan, but was nothing to worry about, and while Josie struggled back into her clothes the doctor and Conan decided she could go to the Cotswolds for the weekend.
‘Nice of the pair of you to consult me,’ she sniped sarcastically at Conan on the drive home.
‘Stop complaining, Josie; I’m not in the mood.’
She cast him a speculative look. His dark brows were drawn together in a deep frown, and he looked about as solitary and approachable as a tiger.
‘Sorry if I’ve spoilt your day but you didn’t have to come with me.’
‘Yes, I did,’ Conan said curtly as he stopped the car, and slid out. Walking around to the passenger door, he opened it, took her arm and helped her out. ‘You may not want my help but you need it,’ he declared, glancing at her protruding belly as he ushered her into the house. ‘So no more arguing. I’m taking tomorrow off and we’ll leave in the morning. Tonight I have a dinner engagement, which should cheer you up. You won’t have to suffer my company any more today,’ he snarled, and marched into his study, slamming the door behind him.
But for once Conan was wrong. Seven hours later Josie lay propped up in the delivery room of St Martin’s clinic with Conan by her side, exhorting her to give one more push, and her baby was born.
Dr Masters placed the child in Josie’s arms. ‘Three weeks early but perfect. This little girl was certainly in a hurry to see the world.’
Josie lay back against the pillows and cuddled the infant to her breast, staring in awe and wonderment at the tiny face with a shock of black hair. Her daughter... She glanced up at Conan, standing by the bed, his gaze fixed on the infant in her arms. He looked out of place in the hospital, dressed in a black dinner suit.
‘Thank you, Conan,’ she said with heartfelt gratitude for his support, then, inexplicably shy, she added formally, ’I’m sorry Jeffrey called you away from your dinner.’
It had all happened so quickly; one minute she’d been in the bathroom getting ready for bed, the next her waters had broken, and she’d been panic-stricken. She had called for Jeffrey, and he had ordered the ambulance, and called Conan on his mobile phone.
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