Long minutes passed before he turned to look at her, and when he did, his eyes filled with cold blue flame. Her dress had dark wet patches across her shoulders and along the bodice where the rain had soaked through and her hair hung in heavy black ropes down her back. She could imagine the sight she made, especially if he compared her to his secretary with her impeccable silk suit and shining cap of blonde hair. His face was grim for a moment, then without a word he wrenched open the door to Margaret's office and disappeared.
A sigh escaped her and suddenly everything began to spin. She closed her eyes for a moment to block out the never-ending rain whipping against the huge windows in front of her. What was she doing here anyway? If only this pressure would lift from her heart. If only she could erase the past five years and start all over again. If only she hadn't seen Logan and Carol. If only… If only…
'Kate? Kate?'
Someone was crushing her hand and then she felt an arm behind her shoulders and a cold glass against her lips.
'Are you all right, Kate?'
The voice was unfamiliar. And who was calling her Kate? No one ever called her that any more. Cold water trickled across her lips and down her chin before she blinked in confusion.
A tall thin brown-eyed man wearing glasses was peering at her intently. His thick moustache twitched so violently she wanted to laugh.
'Are you all right, Kate?' he asked.
She found that she was held close to Logan's broad chest. His arm was around her shoulders as he held a glass of water against her mouth. 'Drink this,' he said gently. It felt so good to be here she didn't want to move, but Logan's attorney, Dennis McIntyre, was standing in front of her looking about to panic.
'Dennis!' she whispered. 'You look so different with that awful moustache.'
He drew back abruptly, then let out a loud whoop of relieved laughter. 'Still the same old Kate! You gave us quite a scare.'
She felt Logan stiffen before he straightened and set her firmly in the chair and went back to his desk.
'What happened?' she asked with a shiver, missing the comforting warmth of his body.
'You fainted.' Logan's face was set in rigid lines as he flung himself angrily in his chair.
'Oh.' She felt very small.
'Don't let it upset you. Knowing Logan, he probably rushed you from one place to another without giving you a minute to catch your breath.' Dennis flashed her a grin. 'It's no wonder you fainted—marrying him on a day like this! If it's any indication of the way your life together will be—'
'—Never mind,' Logan broke with a scowl. 'Just get those papers for her to sign.'
'Now look, you might push me around on the tennis court, but here,' Dennis tapped the legal documents in front of him with a bony forefinger, 'I'm the boss. She's not going to sign these unless she's in full possession of her faculties. They wouldn't be enforceable otherwise.'
'Stop talking like a lawyer,' said Logan with an irritated sigh. 'I just want this finished so I can take her home. She's not the most robust person at the moment. I should think you'd see that for yourself, you're so busy ogling my wife.'
'I'm not ogling your wife! Kate was a friend of mine long before she ever met you.'
'You're both talking as if I'm not even here,' Kathryn said quietly, standing on rubbery legs, trying to stop the argument between them.
Logan frowned impatiently. 'You weren't, for a good five minutes.'
She flushed. 'I'm fine now. Where do you want me to sign?'
'I don't advise you to sign anything without reading it first,' Dennis said firmly.
Logan scowled at him. 'She knows I wouldn't ask her to sign anything unless it was in her best interests.'
'You're making her an independently wealthy woman as well as Jon's mother. She might as well be aware of it!'
The blood swiftly drained from her face and she stared at Logan with enormous stricken eyes. 'What's he saying?' she demanded.
Logan ran a hand through his hair and rubbed the back of his neck before swivelling his chair away from her to stare out of the window at the rain-lashed darkness. 'Just sign the papers,' he said, his lips thinning.
'No! You know I don't want your money!'
'You're my wife now. The money's yours whether you sign or not.'
'I'm not for sale!' She flung the words at him before pushing past Dennis and accidentally scattering his papers all over the floor. She didn't turn back but ran headlong out of the office.
Logan started to go after her, but Dennis stopped him. 'Let her go. Give her a few minutes to pull herself together. We'll send Margaret to the ladies' room for her when she's had time to realise what you're really trying to do.'
'Thanks a lot, big mouth,' Logan said harshly, watching the lawyer on his knees, red-faced, gathering up the papers. 'If you'd kept your mouth shut she'd have signed and we'd be on our way home. Now I've got to try to make her see reason, and somehow I don't think she'll do that. God! You saw her face. She really hates me!'
'Don't you think she has that right?' Dennis stood up and straightened the papers into a neat pile. 'You've made her your wife—anyone would think you'd try to understand her. But no, the mighty Logan Ramsey has to blunder his way in and use brute force, thinking only of himself, ordering her to sign these without explaining what they're all about. Kate's a person who responds to tact and gentle persuasion.'
'And just how do you know so much about my wife?' Logan's voice was menacing.
'I dated her when she was nineteen—just before she started working for you. That's the one big regret of ray life: I never should have let her get away from me.'
'Then why did you? Or did she stop seeing you?'
Dennis smiled stiffly. 'One night I dropped in to see her without ringing first to make sure she was home. Carol answered the door. Need I say more?'
Logan's whole face congested with rage. 'You preferred Carol to Kathryn?'
'I wasn't the only one. You married Carol.'
'And you know why.'
'Yes, I know why.' Dennis shook his head sadly. 'But does Kate?'
'She knows I had to marry Carol because she was pregnant, but we didn't discuss it in detail. She didn't look ready to listen to reason. I don't know if I can make her understand.'
'You'd better try. You've married her, but she isn't yours yet. She may never be yours.'
'Margaret!' Logan bellowed for his secretary. 'Go to the ladies' room and bring Kathryn back here. Now!'
But when Kathryn had run out of the office she hadn't gone to the ladies' room. Instead, she had made a mad dash for the elevator and then out into the rainswept darkness, intent only on putting as much distance between herself and Logan as possible.
He thought he could buy her! Her face streamed with stinging raindrops and within a minute she was drenched from head to foot. But she felt nothing. She was conscious only of a burning humiliation. He had tricked her into marriage, playing on her sympathy, asking her to be a mother to his son. She had done it out of a sense of obligation to her sister's child, a tiny innocent victim of Logan's irresponsibility. But in attempting to pay her for it, he had robbed her of her self-respect, and that she could not tolerate. She would be a mother to his son, but she would not be bought.
CHAPTER FOUR
Kathryn had no particular destination in mind when she ran through the streets in the cold wind-lashed rain. Lightning continued to stun her with brilliant blinding flashes of light followed by sudden blackness before booming thunder clapped loudly in her ears. Every once in a while she pushed a hand across her eyes, trying to sweep away the water flooding her face, but it was useless. The rain was so heavy she couldn't see where she was going. And then she had to laugh. What did it matter? There was nowhere to go.
When she stopped at a street corner trying to get her bearings, a strong gust of wind whipped around a tall building and struck at her, making her stagger backwards and nearly lose her footing.
'Miss? Oh, miss?'
She he
ard a voice and peered through the rain at a taxi standing by the kerb with the door open invitingly.
'You look like you could use a lift, miss,' the driver shouted above the wind.
Kathryn blinked, shivering, then spread her hands in a futile gesture. When she had run from Logan her handbag and coat were left behind. 'I—I haven't any money to pay you,' she explained.
'I'm just on my way home. It'll be my good deed for the day. Hop in, miss. You're not dressed for this weather.'
She was in no position to argue. 'Thank you,' she said shakily, getting into the car and slamming the door to close out the rain.
'That's all right, miss. You shouldn't be out on a day like this. Where to?'
She looked at the man's friendly face creased with compassion. He reminded her of Aunt Miriam. Without thinking, she gave him the address.
When the taxi drew up in front of the dilapidated house, the driver gave her a speculative frown. 'You sure this is the right place?'
It was dark and unwelcoming, abandoned looking. Weeds were thick and untended even now.
Kathryn turned to him and tried to keep her teeth from chattering. 'My aunt's been sick. It doesn't look quite so—so neglected inside.'
He threw her a wide smile full of relief. 'You be sure to get out of them wet clothes right away, miss. And fix yourself a nice hot cup of broth so's you don't get a chill. I got a daughter about your age myself and I sure wouldn't like it if she didn't take care of herself. You do that now, you hear?'
'Thank you,' she said with a grateful murmur. 'I will.'
Her dress was plastered to her slight figure when she pushed open the door and stepped into the driving rain. The rusting iron gate creaked on broken hinges as she picked her way through slippery weeds covering the walk. Thorns from an old overgrown rosebush tore at her legs and she stumbled in the darkness, blinking away the raindrops that mingled with the surprising tears that began to stream down her face. She didn't hear the taxi as it drove away with splashing tyres in the flooded street.
She breathed ragged gasps of air, as she dragged herself up the steps, pushing open the front door with an echoing crash that bounced off the walls of the tiny house. Stepping inside the dark hall, she peered through a green gloom. Everything was quiet in the musty dankness. All she could hear was the thick pounding of her heart drumming in her ears and the rapid chattering of her teeth.
'Aunt Miriam?' she whispered.
A streak of lightning ripped through the sky, brightening the interior of the small room, only to be followed by instant darkness and an ear shattering clap of thunder. She held her hands over her ears and crept from room to room in the intermittent light and darkness. Just for an instant the tiny living room was lit up and she could see the old empty rocking chair in the corner by the fireplace.
'Where are you, Aunt Miriam?' she cried in desperation. 'I'm home!'
Peals of thunder crashed about her and rumbled in the distance. The increasing pounding of the rain matched the throbbing pulse at her temples as she dragged trembling fingers through the wet blackness of her hair. Her soaked dress moulded itself to her like a second skin and icy gooseflesh prickled along her spine. Then a curious calm settled over her as she reached for the doorknob to the bedroom. Silently, she opened the door and went into the small cosy room. Her eyes became accustomed to the darkness and she could see clearly now. Everything was here just the way it had always been.
Moving slowly, almost as if mesmerised, she neared the old-fashioned feather bed that had been her aunt's pride and joy. Comfort and protection seemed to reach out and beckon her. Only here, in this house, had she known any tenderness and consideration. Long-forgotten childhood memories rushed in on her.
When the authorities had notified her and Carol that their parents had been involved in a fatal car crash, Aunt Miriam had been with them to comfort them. She had brought them here and settled them in this wide soft bed and told them they would never be shuffled in and out of foster-homes. They were a family, and she would see to it they would always be together.
Kathryn shivered as reaction set in. Taking off her soaked clothing, she sank down into the musty blankets. They were soft and warm, and she began to weep with a sudden shuddering release. Aunt Miriam was gone, and Carol. There was no one to turn to. She had never felt more totally abandoned or alone.
Time passed slowly, and as the storm outside began to abate, so did her own storm of weeping. Her eyes were swollen and parched as she lay in the silent darkness wishing for a blind oblivion to finally swallow her into forgetfulness. If only she hadn't seen Logan with Carol that night! How different things might have been. He was everything she had ever dreamed of: strong and proud and handsome. He was a man people looked up to instinctively. But then he betrayed her. Now there was Jon to consider. Jon— Logan's and Carol's son.
A cold damp numbness was seeping into her bones. She huddled into a tight ball of misery and humiliation, blocking out the past and not looking to the future. There was only now, and it was unbearable. She could feel herself sinking, down, down into a warm dark pit, and all at once she felt safe and secure and oddly at peace as her numbed body turned to that unrecognised warmth and embraced it. If only this oblivion could last for ever, she remembered thinking, and then she knew no more…
When she woke the next morning a brilliant streak of sunlight was streaming over her face. She had slept deeply, dreamlessly, and for the first time in years had been unusually comforted. She turned her head, starting to rise, blinking at the blinding light, but her hair caught on something. She tugged lightly, wondering what was holding her, then turned back to stare into the strong calm face of her husband.
He was lying beside her but on top of the blanket, wearing only the dark trousers he had worn yesterday, propped up on one elbow watching her, the long fingers of his other hand firmly tangled in her hair. 'Hello, my wife,' he said softly.
All Kathryn's breath left her in a rush and she swallowed wildly. Was she dreaming?
'I knew you'd look this beautiful first thing in the morning.' His voice was unsteady.
Her eyes swiftly darted away from the smouldering look in his eyes, but when they fell to the smooth skin of his chest, she felt a sudden strangling constriction in her throat and started to get up in sudden panic. But she swiftly fell back beneath the blankets. She had nothing on.
A smile crossed Logan's face as his hand left her hair and lightly traced the frantic pulse at the side of her neck. 'I love you, my beautiful wife,' he said gently.
She was completely stunned; her face burned, and it took a full minute for her to find her voice. 'Have you been here—all night—with—with me?'
'Most of it. After all, it was our wedding night, wasn't it?'
'How did you find me?'
'Where else could you go? I knew you'd come here eventually.' He felt her tremble. 'It's all right,' he murmured gently, 'I understand why you had to come. I was wrong not to bring you here myself.'
Kathryn's throat tightened with inexplicable tears, but she couldn't say a word.
Logan inched closer and his dark head bent helplessly to hers. His lips tantalised the sensitive skin at her neck as he shifted his weight and curved the heavy warmth of his body around the cool slenderness of hers. 'I used to dream of this,' he said unsteadily, the brush of his lips making her quiver.
Her heart thumped madly. She had dreamed it too—for years and years. And now he was here and it was no longer a dream. Her mouth instinctively reached for his, hesitantly at first, tentatively searching, as if she was about to wake up and find herself alone again. But she was not alone. Her arms came up around his neck, her trembling fingers threading through the thick black silk of his hair before curling into clinging fists. A sudden overwhelming urgency shot through her at his answering passion when he kissed her with a hunger that made her gasp.
Trembling, his hands probed beneath the blanket to find the warm shuddering contours of her slight body, his fingertips lightly
running over her, caressing her skin, cupping the small swell of her breasts. He murmured almost incoherently: 'Oh, Kathryn—Kathryn! Let me love you the way you were meant to be loved.' As bemused as she was, the words washed over her, and almost at once where he touched her, her skin began to crawl. He had said that once before—and then betrayed her. The image of him with Carol rose up before her. This same powerful body had been entwined with Carol's, this same swarthy skin—only then it was silvery, translucent, almost unreal. But this was reality, and it came rushing at her with a sickening jolt.
Logan felt her stiffening withdrawal and levered himself up on his elbows, looking at her with glazed eyes, his quivering body still covering hers. 'Kathryn?'
A ragged choking sensation caught at her throat and dry tears stung her eyes. 'Oh God! Leave me alone!'
'Why?' he asked desperately. 'Why? You know you want this as much as I do! You're my wife!'
'Carol was your wife. You only married me to care for your son!'
'Carol!' The name was a strangled sound as defeat swept through him and it was a full second before he rolled away from her, drained. Sighing heavily, he sat on the edge of the bed, flexing his muscled shoulders wearily. 'Why did you have to bring her between us?'
'She'll always be between us. Be honest enough to admit it.' Kathryn hunched her shoulders, turning away.
But at once his fingers dug into her soft flesh, pushing her flat on her back, making her look at him. 'Don't push me, Kathryn. This isn't the time or the place for explanations. We'll go home and clear up our misunderstandings.'
She squeezed her eyes shut on a wave of despair. This was no misunderstanding. She had seen him. And besides, even if there could be some doubt about what she had seen, there was still Jon. Carol had been pregnant with him before Logan married her.
A low sound of disgust rumbled in his throat as he turned away and reached for his shirt draped over the back of a chair and put it on before bending down for her dress lying in a puddle on the floor. It was still wet, a blue crumpled mass in his hands. 'You can't wear this—it's ruined.' He crossed to the other side of the room and came back with a silvery blue raincoat lined with silk and held it out to her.
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