‘She’s beautiful; I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,’ Conan murmured. ‘A miracle... An absolute miracle.’ He had been saying much the same thing all the time he had held Josie’s hand in the delivery room, and insisted she remember her breathing exercises. ‘She looks exactly like you, Josie. May I?’ He leant forward and touched a gentle finger to the baby’s cheek. ‘Perfect.’
‘She is, isn’t she?’ Josie agreed, yawning wildly, and with her eyes closing Dr Masters took the sleeping baby from her mother and handed her to Conan. Josie never saw the tears in her husband’s eyes as she fell into a sleep of utter exhaustion.
When Conan walked into the room on Friday evening Josie was feeding the baby at her breast. She looked up as he entered. He was dressed casually in jeans and sweatshirt, and he stopped inside the door, his dark eyes fastened on the baby suckling on Josie’s breast in stunned fascination.
‘Conan.’ Josie said his name softly.
His head shot up. ‘Sorry for staring,’ he said, a dull flush staining his hard-cut features.
‘It’s all right.’
Hesitantly he walked to the bed, and sat down on the chair provided for visitors. ‘What are you going to call her?’ he asked softly, glancing from the tiny baby to Josie’s face and back again.
‘I thought Kathleen, after my mother; it’s from the Celtic and means dear to my heart.’
‘Kathleen. Yes, I like it.’ He looked up and caught the expression of pure love for her child in Josie’s eyes, and his own darkened in some unidentifiable pain.
Josie, completely wrapped up in her baby, didn’t notice. It was the next day, when her father and the Major arrived, that her euphoric world took a knock.
‘A girl!’ the Major snorted. ‘She looks nothing like a Zarcourt, though I suppose if Charles was alive he wouldn’t have minded. She is a pretty little thing.’
Josie’s eyes flew to where Conan was standing in the background. She saw him stiffen. His eyes were narrowed angrily on his father, and it suddenly hit her. Her troubles were not over with the birth of her child, but just beginning.
Her father, bless him, was much more enthusiastic. ‘She’s the image of your mother, Josephine, and I’m delighted you’re going to call her Kathleen.’
But for Josie some of the joy went out of her heart at the Major’s comment, and after the two older men left to travel on to Beeches she was too embarrassed to look at Conan.
‘Take no notice of my father,’ he said quietly, walking to the bed. ‘Subtlety was never his strong point.’
‘But he had the right to say it.’
‘No, he did not. It’s your baby and yours alone. No one has any right to the child but you.’ His words should have cheered her up, but the reverse was true. Obviously Conan wasn’t interested in the baby either.
Six weeks later Josie slid into the passenger seat of the sleek BMW and glanced at Conan sitting behind the steering wheel. Jeffrey was baby-sitting while Conan insisted on taking Josie to Dr Masters for her final check-up.
‘There’s really no need for you to accompany me,’ she said for the hundredth time.
‘I’m going with you and that’s final.’
Silently fuming, Josie sat back and let her mind stray back over the past few weeks, and inevitably to Conan. Domineering and dangerous to her health, he was never far from her thoughts, however much she wished it were otherwise.
Her baby was a constant source of pleasure, but Conan was the opposite. Since the day she’d returned from the hospital, the gap between them had widened to a chasm. Josie could not look at him without remembering the intimacy they had shared, and the most intimate act of all—he had been present at the birth of her child.
In fact Josie saw very little of him. He was either at work or locked in his study, and he slept in the dressing room...
But several times when the baby had awakened in the night crying, to Josie’s surprise Conan had appeared at the side of the crib, before she could even get out of bed. He’d cradled the child in his arms as if he really cared. Only last night Josie had finally put Kathleen to bed, and run herself a hot bath. Soaking in the tub, she’d thought she heard the baby cry and then there was silence. Five minutes later, dried and dressed in a towelling robe, she’d padded into the bedroom to find Conan, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts, leaning over Kathleen on the baby-changer, changing her nappy.
‘You should have called me,’ Josie had dashed to his side. ‘You don’t have to do that.’
‘Maybe I want to,’ he’d said quietly, and with a gentleness that was surprising in such a large man, he’d deftly dressed Kathleen, and, carrying her to her crib, laid her tenderly down to sleep. Straightening up, he’d turned back towards Josie, his dark eyes raking over her from top to toe, and back to linger where the vee of her robe revealed the soft swell of her breasts. ‘And you needed to relax, I think.’
She’d looked up at him and heat had flooded through her whole body at the sensual knowledge she saw in the blackening depths of his eyes. Her figure had snapped back to normal with remarkable ease. If anything she was thinner than before except for her chest, but having Conan studying her so intently had sent her pulse rate sky-high.
‘But nobody wants to change a nappy, certainly not a man like you,’ she’d spluttered, dropping her gaze only to find herself staring at his half-naked body.
His mouth had tightened. ‘What would you know about my wants?’ he’d demanded scathingly. ‘You believe I traded you for a lump of land; you don’t know me at all.’ And he’d walked out.
‘We’ve arrived.’ A harsh voice broke into her musing. Josie blinked and saw the car was parked outside the clinic.
Half an hour later Josie slid back into the car, her face scarlet with rage and resentment. Dr Masters had given her the all-clear, and had added that it was perfectly fine to resume normal sexual relations. Then Conan, his golden eyes glinting with devilment, had discussed the merits of different kinds of birth control with the doctor.
‘What the hell did you think you were playing at?’ she demanded, as soon as he got in behind the wheel, her eyes shooting flames. ‘I have never been so humiliated—discussing birth control with Dr Masters, as if I didn’t exist! You did it deliberately simply to embarrass me. We do not have a sexual relationship, nor will we ever again, as you know damn fine.’
He was silent for a long moment, his dark gaze penetrating. ‘If you believe that, then you really are blind. I saw the way you looked at me last night I know the sensual being that lurks beneath your Madonna-like exterior. Living together, it’s only a matter of time before we end up in bed together.’
‘Why, you arrogant swine!’ She struck out with her hand but she was hampered by the close confines of the car and he easily captured her wrist, and held it pressed to his thigh.
‘No, Josie, simply realistic. Dr Masters was very informative, and I thought you needed to know. After all, your past track record is not very good in that department,’ he drawled with biting cynicism.
Josie couldn’t believe he could be so cruel, reminding her of her one mistake—and anyway it wasn’t a mistake; she loved her baby to bits. She stared at him with hatred in her eyes, and all her pent-up resentment came flooding out.
‘But your track record with Angela, of course, is just great! Conan, her ever-present lover along with three husbands. Why don’t you ask her to live with you again? She did before, and you won’t have a problem. She told me herself she wouldn’t get pregnant and spoil her figure, not even for you,’ she sneered.
‘You think I lived with Angela, I’m having an affair with her?’ Conan exclaimed, his eyes widening in amazement on her furious face.
‘I don’t think. I know. Your precious Angela told me the very first time I met her that she’d lived with you, and if that wasn’t enough she kindly passed on your message last year: how sorry you were. You were stuck in New York. And she was calling from London, and all the time telling you to be quiet in the backg
round. The convenient wife in the country, and the mistress in the town. I’m nowhere near as blind as you would like me to be, buster.’
Conan stared at her for a long moment. ‘You believe Angela and I . . . ? That explains a lot.’ Then he flung back his head and burst out laughing.
‘Laugh as much as you like, but...’
‘Ah, Josie,’ he chuckled. ‘You don’t know how relieved I am. You’re jealous!’ he declared, his gold-flecked eyes capturing hers, and he curled her fingers into his palm. ‘You have no idea how good that makes me feel.’
‘Why, you big ape!’ she yelled, pulling her hand from his. ‘I am not jealous.’
‘Josie, I have never lived with Angela. She borrowed my house with her brother while I was in New York. I have never been intimate with her. I respect her brain but I would sooner make love to a barracuda. And whatever she led you to believe over the telephone were lies.’
‘So you say, but why should I believe you? At least Charles pretended to love me before taking me to bed. You just pretended I’d always slept with you, when I was in no fit state to know differently. You’re not half the man Charles was.’ She said it deliberately to hurt him, but she shrank back against the seat in real fear at the inimitable anger in his dark eyes.
The parking attendant knocking on the car window and gesturing them to move on stopped Conan’s full response. ‘Damn you!’ he swore, and, turning the key in the ignition he crashed the gears and the car took off like a rocket.
Josie immediately wished the words unsaid. She wanted to apologise, but never got the chance. On returning to the house he instructed Jeffrey to pack what was needed, as they were leaving immediately for Beeches Manor, and three hours later he deposited Josie and the baby at the Manor House. He did not even stay for dinner but turned the car round and went back to London. His final terse words to Josie had been, ‘You and Kathleen stay here. If you need anything, you have my telephone number; if I’m not there try the bank or Angela.’ And with eyes as cold as the Arctic he’d left.
The hall looked light and airy in the morning sunshine. The whole house had taken on a new ambience since the renovations had been completed. When Josie had arrived three weeks ago, she had suffered shock upon shock. First her father and the Major had moved to the newly converted stable block at the back of the Manor. Mrs M. had her own apartment in the same block. The suite Josie had used the last time now had a nursery adjoining it. The estate manager, Mr Dorking, his wife and their three children had moved into Josie’s old home, Low Beeches farmhouse.
Reaching the hall, Josie picked the mail up off the table on the way to the kitchen. She made herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table to drink it. The first letter was junk mail, but the second left her sitting open-mouthed in shock. The official-looking document fell unnoticed from her hand. She couldn’t believe it. From a firm of solicitors in Cheltenham, it was the deeds to the Beeches Manor estate made out in her name. Conan had given her the lot. But why? Mrs M. walked in and Josie glanced up at her, her face white as a sheet.
‘How is Kathleen today?’ Mrs M. asked.
‘Fine, asleep,’ Josie murmured distractedly.
‘Are you all right? You don’t look so good, lass.’
Josie looked at the older woman. ‘A touch of baby blues,’ she said—the first thing that came into her head. ‘Since I’ve had to stop breast-feeding.’
‘More like husband blues,’ Mrs M. remarked caustically. ‘When are you going to come to your senses and ring Conan? The poor man left here looking like his world had ended.’
‘You don’t understand,’ Josie murmured, but she didn’t understand herself. She looked down at the letter on the table, shaking her head in disbelief. Conan loved Beeches Manor. Why would he give it away?
‘I understand better than you think. I know you’ve had a hard time the last few months, what with the accident and all. But these things happen and you have to get over them. Just look at this house. Conan has done everything for you, and you sit there indulging in self-pity over some stupid argument. It’s time you snapped out of it and called him. You’re a fool, Josie, if you let the past spoil the present. Conan is a proud man, and whatever you’ve argued about has hurt him deeply. It’s up to you to put it right.’
‘I don’t want to discuss this,’ she snapped, and groaned as Mrs M. walked out in a huff. Mrs M. did not know the half of it.
Josie picked up the letter and wandered out into the hall. She had heard nothing from Conan directly, but two days ago she’d received a bank statement, in her name, that had knocked her for six. She had felt like a kept woman, until she’d thought of her baby. Much as she hated accepting Conan’s money, she was a mother first and her independence would have to wait until she was in a position to support herself without her child suffering. But this! She tapped the letter against her hand. This she could not accept. She glanced down at the telephone on the hall table, chewing nervously on her bottom lip.
Making up her mind, she picked up the receiver and dialled. She sighed with relief as Jeffrey’s familiar voice answered. There was no point in rushing to London if Conan was not there. Five minutes later she replaced the receiver and went looking for Mrs Dorking.
By mid-afternoon Josie was bathed and dressed in a lilac silk sheath dress and toning high-heeled sandals. She planted a soft kiss on her baby’s cheek before handing her to Mrs Dorking, who, with three children of her own, had no qualms about keeping Kathleen for the night. Josie stepped into her now repaired yellow car and started the engine.
On the drive to London, she had plenty of time to think about the past, and it slowly dawned on her that maybe she had been wrong about Conan. He had only ever shown her kindness and consideration from the day they married. He had been instrumental in helping her recover from the trauma of her ill-fated engagement to Charles. True, he had taken advantage of her when she’d had amnesia—But had he? She had wanted him just as much. Her jealousy over Angela he had dismissed with laughter, easily explaining the other woman’s presence in his house. But she had not believed him, and had lashed out at him in the worst way. He had even said he loved her, and she had not believed that either. Dear heaven! If it was true, and she had denied him...
Jeffrey opened the door before Josie had a chance to knock, and within minutes he had her seated in the drawing room, and left to make some tea. Josie glanced around her. Nothing had changed. She jumped to her feet and prowled around the room, too nervous to sit.
The door opened and, expecting Jeffrey, Josie froze as Conan strode in. His hand was at his throat, pulling at his tie, as he headed straight for the drinks cabinet, but something must have alerted him to her presence as he stopped in the middle of the room and turned to where she stood, frozen to the spot.
‘You.’ His dark eyes widened in surprise, quickly followed by fear. ‘Has something happened to Kathleen?’ he demanded, stepping towards her.
‘No. No, she’s fine. Getting bigger every day. She can smile now. Mrs M. insists it’s just wind, but I know she smiles.’ She was babbling, she knew, but the flood of emotions she felt at seeing Conan again had knocked every sensible thought from her head.
His dark hair was slightly longer, and his face a little thinner, but he was still the most attractive man she had ever met. As she watched he slipped off his jacket and flung it on a chair, and, carrying on to the drinks cabinet, he poured himself a large whisky.
‘Do you want a drink?’ he asked, his back to her.
‘No, thank you.’
‘Then what do you want?’ he demanded coldly, turning around. One hip propped against the cabinet, he downed the drink in one go.
Her purse was on the sofa with the letter in it, she stepped forward to get it, and hesitated. Conan was watching her, his dark eyes roaming down over her slender body, and back to linger on the firm thrust of her breasts against the fabric of her dress, then slowly back to her face. What did she really want? she asked herself. Her violet eyes were doing s
ome wandering of their own. He looked slightly rumpled and infinitely dear to her, and with a courage she had not known she possessed she walked across to him.
‘I want you,’ she said huskily, and, reaching out, she touched his arm.
‘Want me?’ He laughed harshly. ‘Oh, please, Josie you must be desperate. What was it you called me? Half a man?’ he drawled with biting sarcasm.
She lifted her eyes to his and was stunned by the angry bitterness she saw in their black depths. She had set out to hurt him that day, but only now did she realise how well she had succeeded. ‘I’m sorry; I didn’t mean it.’
‘Yes, you did, Josie.’ He slammed his glass down on the cabinet. ‘The first time I tried to make love to you, you were thinking of him. I should have learnt then. But no, when the doctor told me you had lost your memory I quite ruthlessly took advantage of the fact to have you in my bed. Have you any idea what that did to me as a man? It almost destroyed me. Thinking every night, this is the last time; tomorrow she will remember. In the end it was relief when you did, knowing how low I had sunk in my desire for you.’
Looking back, Josie understood why she had thought he was withdrawing from her the last two weeks before her memory had returned. But the one thing that loomed large in her mind was that he had said he desired her. Standing close to him, her hand resting on his arm, she could feel the heat of his flesh through the fine silk of his shirt. ‘Then so had L Because I wanted you. Desired you. And still do,’ she said quietly.
But she got no further as Conan grabbed her around the waist and hauled her tight against his hard body. His dark head swooped down and his mouth ground against hers in a savagely hungry kiss. He made no pretence of tenderness. His hands slid from her waist, curving one around her bottom, the other fondling her breast, while he spun her against the wall, nudged her legs apart and forced his thigh between hers.
A Husband of Convenience Page 17