Hidden Love
Page 10
‘You really don’t know?’
‘No.’
‘Oh, you walked right into it, didn’t you?’ Suzy scorned disbelievingly.
Her mouth twisted. ‘So everyone keeps telling me.’
‘You know, before I pitied you, now I really feel sorry for you. Nick must have verbally ripped you to shreds—and you don’t even know why!’
‘Are you going to tell me?’ Rachel’s voice was brittle.
‘Why not?’ Suzy shrugged. ‘It’s never been a secret. Shall we walk on, one of your cousins has just come out here with her boy-friend.’
‘He’s her husband, actually,’ Rachel corrected, but she willingly moved out of earshot of the other couple.
‘Your family believes in marrying young,’ Suzy scorned. ‘Were you frightened of getting left on the shelf, Rachel?’
Rachel ignored the jibe. ‘We were talking about Nick,’ she prompted.
‘So we were.’ Suzy sat down on the garden seat, waiting for Rachel to join her.
‘Well?’ Rachel prompted impatiently.
‘Nick’s life so far reads like a book,’ Suzy derided. ‘And it may or may not have a happy ending.’ She gave Rachel a pointed look.
Colour tinged Rachel’s cheeks. ‘Go on.’
Suzy shrugged. ‘Nick’s mother wasn’t married to his father. He was a very rich man, made no secret of the fact that Nick’s mother had been no more than a one-night stand to him, although it became obvious she’d schemed to have his baby when she sued him for paternity. You’re beginning to see the similarity?’ she taunted.
‘Yes.’ Rachel felt sick.
‘The case went on for months, with appeals and everything. When Nick’s mother finally lost the case she did three things. She admitted that his father could be any one of a dozen men, she married the lawyer who’d been handling her case, and she put the child into an orphanage.’
‘Nick…’
‘Exactly,’ Suzy said with satisfaction. ‘She’d never really wanted him, although while the case was going on she seemed the model mother. He was three years old when she put him into care. It was in all the newspapers at the time, it was quite a scandal for thirty years ago. Then about ten years ago, just after Nick went professional, some reporter dug it all up again. Nick has never denied it.’
The whole thing must seem like a nightmare to Nick. No wonder he hated her, no wonder he was determined to have his child if there were one. And no wonder he had insisted on marrying her now—the idea of the same thing happening to his child that had happened to him must fill him with horror. And he could think her no better than his mother!
CHAPTER SIX
SUZY went on to tell Rachel about Nick’s adoption when he was four, how his adoptive parents had had a child of their own a year later, of the love and happiness he had found in his new home.
But Rachel was only half listening, her thoughts mainly on the poor hurt little boy Nick had once been—which he still was inside? The scars of his early childhood were still inside him, had helped make him the man he was today, and that man could be harsh and cruel in his own way.
And no wonder! Oh, what a start in life for any child! It wasn’t surprising that he insisted on being married to her.
She stood up abruptly. ‘Shall we go back inside?’
Suzy also stood languidly to her feet. ‘Of course. But remember, Nick belongs to me, has always belonged to me. And he will continue to do so, whether you stay married to him or not. I’d even bring up another woman’s child for him,’ she added slyly.
Rachel gave her a sharp look. ‘Not my child you won’t!’
Suzy gave her a half smile. ‘We’ll see. After all, the baby will be born legally now, there’s no reason for you to stay around once it’s been born.’
Except the obvious one—the baby was hers! Heavens, even she was starting to believe in this mythical baby now!
Nick was coming out of the lounge as the two women walked in from the garden, and his eyes narrowed as he looked at them both. ‘I was just coming to look for you,’ he told Rachel slowly.
Suzy Freeman gave a husky laugh. ‘We were just having a woman-to-woman talk, darling.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘Yes,’ she nodded. ‘Your wife has just been telling me that she isn’t in the least possessive.’
Hard blue eyes focused on Rachel. ‘Has she now?’
Suzy reached up and kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘I’ll see you Saturday, darling.’
‘I’ll look forward to it,’ he drawled. Once the other girl had left his fingers bit painfully into Rachel’s arm, pulling her to his side. ‘Couldn’t you wait until after the wedding to let everyone know you couldn’t give a damn about me?’ he ground out.
‘Why should I wait?’ she flashed, her pity for his childhood forgotten as he once again roused anger in her. ‘When you’ve made no secret of it?’
‘It’s time we were leaving,’ Nick said tightly. ‘After all, I should make the most of having a wife, it may not be for long.’
‘When I’m sure Miss Freeman will be glad to take over,’ she snapped.
His mouth tightened. ‘Let’s go and say goodbye to your parents.’
‘I have my suitcase upstairs—’
‘Let’s go and get it.’ He marched her out of the room and up the stairs. ‘Which room?’ he demanded to know.
‘Nick, please—’
‘Which room, Rachel?’ he rasped.
‘This one,’ she pushed the door open. ‘But—’
He came inside, closing the door firmly behind them. ‘Just what sort of conversation did you and Suzy have?’ he scorned.
Her hands twisted nervously together. ‘I—We—we talked about you—actually.’
‘I’ll bet you did,’ he drawled. ‘A nice cosy girlish chat,’ he taunted.
‘We didn’t compare notes, if that’s what you mean!’ Rachel said fiercely. ‘After all, I don’t really have enough experience yet, do I?’
Nick’s expression darkened ominously. ‘Not yet, but you will,’ he said grimly. ‘And the sooner the better.’ He picked up her suitcase and strode powerfully out of the room and down the stairs.
‘You aren’t leaving already?’ Rachel’s mother showed her disappointment as she came into the hallway to meet them.
The anger left Nick’s face as he smiled at the other woman. ‘I’m afraid so, Mrs James. After all, Rachel and I don’t have a lot of time to be together before I leave for Boston.’
‘Of course not,’ her mother beamed at their desire to be alone. ‘I’ll just go and get Jim.’
Everyone else came out to say goodbye to them too, and the next few minutes were taken up in tearful goodbyes, even though they were only going to Nick’s flat.
Rachel held back her tears as they drove through the busy streets, blinking rapidly, her throat aching from the suppressed tears. Her parents had looked so proud of her today, so pleased for her happiness.
‘Cry if you want to,’ Nick encouraged softly.
‘I don’t—’
‘Stubbornness isn’t going to change this situation. Cry if you want to!’
She did, deep racking sobs that shook her whole body. Her eyes were red and puffy by the time she had finished—not a pretty sight for a bride!
‘Cheer up,’ Nick taunted dryly. ‘Your parents will still be around when this is over.’
‘Your own parents—did you let them know we were getting married?’ It hadn’t occurred to her to ask before, but in the light of what Suzy had told her she felt curious to know what Nick’s adoptive parents’ reaction was to their marriage.
His expression was harsh. ‘My parents died ten years ago, in an auto accident.’
Her heart contracted. Poor Nick! ‘That’s why you and Kay are so close,’ she nodded understanding.
‘We were always close,’ he snapped. ‘Always. She was the most beautiful baby I’d ever seen—nothing at all like Eve the day she was born,’ he added mockingly.
‘Mm,’ Nick nodded agreement. ‘Do you like children? I never thought to ask before.’
‘I love them!’
He gave her a frowning glance. ‘No need to be so vehement, a simple yes or no would have sufficed.’
She had overreacted, she knew that, and yet she couldn’t help herself; she hadn’t wanted him to think her in the least like his mother. ‘I just thought—in the circumstances—’ she broke off awkwardly, knowing Nick wouldn’t thank her for her pity.
‘What circumstances?’ he demanded grimly.
‘Well, I—that I could be pregnant,’ she invented. ‘It would be as well if I liked children.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed distantly, accepting her explanation, then he parked the car beneath the apartment building, getting her case out of the boot before guiding her over to the lift.
Mrs St Clare—she was Mrs St Clare, her life tightly bound to the man standing on the other side of the lift watching her so impersonally. No matter what happened, what the outcome of this marriage, for the moment she was Mrs Nick St Clare, married to a man who was a stranger to her—a man who knew her more intimately than any other human being.
The flat just the same, as impersonal as the man who lived in it, not a place one could call home. But it was her home now, hers and Nick’s.
She looked at him nervously. ‘I—Could I have a shower, please?’ she asked shakily, she was still wearing the white dress and pillbox hat, feeling no need for a going-away outfit when she was only going a few minutes’ drive down the road.
Nick shrugged, pouring himself a whisky from the decanter on the side. ‘Go ahead.’
Rachel bit her bottom lip. ‘Er—Which bedroom is mine?’
‘Our bedroom is through here.’ He led the way to the bedroom where he had made love to her, putting her suitcase on the ottoman at the bottom of the double bed, the blue patchwork quilt, matching curtains, and dark blue carpet showing it to be a masculine room, several male articles of clothing lying about the room. ‘The bathroom is through here,’ he opened a door to the left of the room, revealing a blue and white ensuite bathroom. ‘Shower here, bath in the main bedroom. Take your pick,’ he dismissed, turning to go back to his whisky.
Rachel watched him with clouded grey eyes.
‘Shower, I think,’ she said jerkily. ‘I—I won’t be long.’
‘No hurry,’ he shrugged, and closed the door behind him.
No hurry. No, there was no hurry about anything any more. Oh, what a few minutes of impetuosity could to to one’s life!
And how Nick had suffered as a child! Rachel didn’t think she would ever get over the shock of hearing how he had been treated, and she couldn’t really blame him for not wanting the same fate for his own child. Not that she felt there was ever any danger of her being so cruel to her child, but Nick had no way of knowing that, he didn’t know her. They were strangers locked in a marriage of convenience, and somehow they were going to have to live through it.
The shower refreshed her, her hair was brushed loosely down over her shoulders as she wrapped a towel about her before going back to the bedroom. She was just getting fresh clothing from her case when Nick walked into the room.
She had had no warning of his entrance, and she clutched her towel to her as she turned to face him. He had changed from his formal suit into a pair of snug-fitting denims and a black short-sleeved shirt, his hair still damp from where he had obviously made use of the main bathroom.
‘I—I’m not dressed,’ she told him nervously, her eyes huge in her pale face.
‘I can see that,’ he derided. ‘Would you like to eat now or afterwards?’
Her eyes were wide in alarm. ‘Afterwards…?’
‘We’re married now, Rachel,’ he walked purposefully towards her, ‘and I don’t want to waste a minute of our time together before I leave on Saturday.’
She swallowed hard. ‘I—I think I would rather have dinner now. I didn’t eat much at the reception.’
‘Too late,’ he murmured. ‘My appetite is aroused for you, not food. We can eat later.’
‘Nick—’
‘You’re my wife, Rachel,’ his eyes glittered down at her.
‘But—’
‘My wife…’ His mouth came down on hers with a hunger he allowed full rein, holding nothing back as he manoeuvred her over to the bed, his gentle push knocking her off balance. He lay beside her as she fell against the patchwork quilt.
‘Nick, dinner—’
His lips nuzzled her throat. ‘There’s only one thing I want from you as a wife, Rachel. And I can get that right here.’ He looked down at her. ‘Am I going to have to fight you?’
‘Nick, please—’
‘Am I?’ he rasped.
‘Yes!’ her eyes flashed. ‘Yes, you’re going to have to fight me!’ She pummelled his chest with her fists. ‘All the way!’ she vowed vehemently.
He gave a smile of satisfaction. ‘I was hoping you would say that!’
Rachel looked at him with tear-filled eyes. ‘Why?’ she choked.
‘Because tenderness isn’t something I can give you. Every time I look at you I remember what you did, the way you schemed for this. I can give you desire, even pleasure, but I can’t give you any of the love and tenderness a bride usually expects on her wedding night.’
‘I don’t want your love and tenderness—No!’ she cried as he stripped the towel from her nakedness.
‘No…’ she groaned again as he pinned her arms at her side, shutting her eyes as he studied every inch of her naked body.
‘Oh yes, Rachel,’ he finally ground out. ‘This is mine, bought and paid for by a marriage licence that isn’t worth the paper it’s printed on.’
Her eyes flew open, her breasts heaving in her anger. ‘Take it, then!’ she spat the words at him. ‘Take it and be damned!’
‘I was damned the day I met you,’ Nick said harshly. ‘But I will take your body, Rachel, however unwillingly it’s given. Because it’s mine, all mine, and it’s the only thing I get from this marriage.’
She turned her face away, lying passively now. ‘Take me, then,’ she said dully. ‘Just get it over with.’
His breath was inhaled angrily. ‘It isn’t going to be as easy as that, Rachel,’ he warned softly. ‘Not for you. I don’t want a pretty doll in my bed, I want a flesh and blood woman, I want the response I got from you the other night.’
‘I’ll see you in hell first!’
‘I’ve already been there,’ he rasped. ‘And I don’t intend returning. You’ll respond, Rachel, I can promise you that.’
‘Promise away,’ she challenged heatedly. ‘I’ll never respond to you—never!’
Oh, how traitorous the human body is! When she made the challenge she was so sure she could resist Nick, but she had reckoned without his expertise, his complete knowledge of the female body, of her body. Within minutes she was gasping her pleasure, was a willing recipient of his lovemaking, his wild caresses awakening a hunger within her that matched his own.
And even when their bodies shuddered to earth in mutual ecstacy Nick wasn’t satisfied, raising her to the heights once more before they fell into a deep, satiated sleep.
When Rachel woke the flat was in darkness, and a glance at her luminous watch told her it was almost ten o’clock in the evening!
Nick lay heavily against her breasts; their sleep had been so deep neither of them seemed to have moved. But he was waking now, raising sleepy eyes to look at her, his arm about her waist wholly possessive.
‘Is it morning?’ he asked huskily.
‘No.’ She was almost afraid to speak, shy in front of him after the passion they had shared so deeply.
He blin
ked to clear the sleep from his brain. ‘No?’
‘It’s still evening. Thursday evening.’
Nick sat up, pushing the hair from his eyes. ‘Early or late?’
‘Almost ten.’ She avoided his gaze.
‘Hungry?’
‘Er—Not really.’ She hadn’t even thought about food!
‘Nor me. Not for food anyway.’
Rachel could see the glow of his eyes as her vision became accustomed to the darkness. ‘Nick…?’
‘Decadent, isn’t it?’ he laughed softly, his hand caressing her breast. ‘I want you again, Rachel.’
She wanted him too, wanted that closeness once again, that unity that even mutual ecstasy couldn’t assuage.
They ate little the next day either; their conversation was almost non-existent, their lovemaking tempestuous and frequent. Rachel had never known such closeness to another person; neither of them needed to talk, their bodies said it all.
Until she woke late Saturday morning to find the bed beside her empty. Whenever she had woken the last two days Nick had been beside her, and she panicked to find him gone, and got hurriedly out of bed to look for him, caring nothing for her nakedness, the intimacies she had shared with Nick making a mockery of selfconsiousness. She didn’t think she would ever be shy with him again.
He wasn’t in the bathroom, and he wasn’t in the kitchen either, in fact he wasn’t anywhere in the flat! Rachel was really beginning to panic when she saw the message on the pad beside the telephone, the handwriting Nick’s: ‘If you need me—urgently!—call this number’, and he had listed a telephone number beneath.
He had gone to Boston! After two days of constant lovemaking, of feeling an incredible oneness with him, Nick had gone to the tournament in Boston without even saying goodbye to her!
***
Her parents invited her over for the day on Sunday, realising she would be lonely in Nick’s absence. How lonely they would never know! Rachel had spent all day yesterday in the flat waiting for Nick to call her, sure that he would let her know he had arrived safely. There had been no call.
Pride kept her from calling the number he had left her, although she longed just to hear the sound of his voice. But the addition of the word urgent had been more than clear; he didn’t want to hear from her unless she was ill or dying—or unless she knew she wasn’t expecting his child!