He slid out of bed before he gave into his urges and made wild, passionate love to her again. By the time he’d finished showering and shaving he at least felt physically better, but emotionally he couldn’t expunge the guilt of what he had done. With a towel draped around his hips, he padded across to his dressing room, where he dressed in jeans and a burgundy polo shirt. She still slept, so he tiptoed out to the sitting room.
Their discarded clothing lay in tangled confusion on the couch and the floor. He disposed of his in the soiled linen basket, took hers into the bedroom and laid them across the dressing table.
He strode into the kitchen. He was not domesticated, didn’t have to be with hired staff around. He could cook the bare essentials and make a decent cup of coffee.
He glanced at the wall clock. “Hell!” Nine o’clock. After making some coffee and toast, he arranged it on a wooden tray and took it into the bedroom.
“Caroline,” he lowered his voice when he spoke her name, but it still penetrated her sleep. As she opened her eyes he noticed bewilderment, followed by a strawberry flush staining her cheeks and throat.
“I…I made you some breakfast.”
Caroline stared at Bryce without speaking and started to sit up. Oh, God, what had she done? She made a desperate grab for the sheet and pulled it up over her bare breasts. She didn’t know where to look. What to say.
He set the tray on the bedside table. “The bathroom is through there. After you’ve eaten you might like a shower. There are plenty of fresh towels in the cupboard under the vanity basin. Use my dressing gown, if you like.” His words were stilted. He pointed to the navy silk robe lying across the foot of the bed. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Call out if you need anything.” He turned and left the room.
She raised herself higher in the bed, wrapping the sheet under her arms. If she ate anything she would be ill, but she took a gulp of coffee. What had she done? Shame and humiliation engulfed her.
She loved Bryce, loved him so much it had become a burning, tormenting flame scorching right through her, but even at the height of his passion he had mentioned nothing about love.
The coffee burned her throat but she welcomed the diversion the pain gave. He didn’t love her, probably didn’t even like her very much. Fueled by alcohol, she had encouraged him, thrown away her inhibitions, and he had been the same. The only reasonable course of action now was to try to make a dignified exit.
Slipping out of bed, she donned the robe. The fabric felt smooth against her skin and his male scent lingered in the fibers. Should she make the bed? She swung around and her hands flew to her face in horror. The pristine whiteness of his sheet was stained with droplets of her virginal blood. Oh, God. She started trembling. What now? Change the sheets? Ask him what to do?
She folded her arms across her breasts and rocked backwards and forwards. After the initial pain of his penetration there had only been bliss. He was too consummate a lover to leave her feeling sore. No, the stark truth of what she had given away last night screamed at her from the bed linen.
If he had loved her, those droplets of blood would have been a badge of honor. She rushed over to the bed, wrenched the sheets off and stormed into the bathroom. By the time she disposed of the linen in his washing basket her spurt of anger fizzled out.
In normal circumstances she would have admired the opulent black marble bath. Two people could stretch out fully in it. But for all she cared right now, it could have been a horse trough. Discarding the robe, she stepped into the shower cubicle. Two sets of shower knobs. His and hers?
She turned the taps on full bore, wishing she could stay there forever. Eventually she stepped out and, after drying herself on a large fluffy towel, stood trembling, prolonging the time until she would have to confront Bryce.
She folded the towel in half, hung it on the rack and stumbled out into his bedroom. Her clothes had been neatly laid out on the dressing table, and she slipped them on. Where were her shoes? Probably still in the sitting room where she had so carelessly kicked them off last night. Her bra and panties were in her handbag. Thank goodness he hadn’t had to handle such intimate items of clothing.
She picked up a tan leather brush and ran it through her tangled hair. Grimacing at her wan appearance, she took in several deep steadying breaths. You can do this. You have to. Mustering her courage, she trudged into the kitchen.
Bryce lounged at an island-type bench, reading the papers. An empty plate and cup sat next to him.
“I wasn’t hungry.” She placed the tray on the bench.
When he glanced up, those well-shaped lips she had tasted so wantonly last night were drawn into tight lines. Still extremely kissable, though.
“Another cup of coffee?” he asked in overly polite tones.
“Yes, thank you.”
He switched the percolator back on and sat watching her without speaking.
A muscle convulsed in his jaw. He cleared his throat a couple of times. “I’m sorry about last night. I know it’s inadequate, but what else can I say?”
“It wasn’t your fault. I shouldn’t have asked to come here, should have stopped you before, well, before things got out of control.” Her voice wobbled. If only he said he loved her, everything would be all right. She would be happy instead of distraught.
He didn’t say anything more, just turned the percolator off when it bubbled and refilled both their cups.
They drank in silence. She idly noticed a modern wall oven with concealed hot plates, and there was a dishwasher and garbage disposal unit. Everything looked ultramodern and expensive, but cold and clinical.
When the silence became unbearable, she broke it by saying, “I’d like to go home soon. Could you call me a cab?”
“I’ll run you home when we’ve finished our coffee.”
“I…I took off the bed linen and…”
“You shouldn’t have bothered,” he said, cutting her off. “My housekeeper comes in on a daily basis and takes care of everything.”
Not bloodstained sheets. Nausea grabbed at her stomach.
He gave a tight smile. He looked embarrassed, but couldn’t possibly feel as bad as her.
Gulping down the last couple of mouthfuls of coffee she put the cup down.
She stood. “I’d like to leave now, please.”
He glanced down at his bare feet. “I’ll go and put some shoes on.”
She waited for him in the sitting room. Daylight only emphasized the luxurious surroundings. Bryce’s world could never be hers. Not that it could stifle the love and longing in her heart. Insurmountable obstacles could be overcome by love, but he didn’t love her, pure and simple.
He drove her home without speaking. She glanced at his stony, brooding profile a couple of times. It didn’t take much imagination to realize she wasn’t the only one regretting last night’s passion. He pulled up outside her apartment, came around to let her out of the car.
“Will you be all right?” he mumbled when they reached her door.
“Yes, thank you.”
“I’m sorry for what happened last night. If I could undo the damage I’ve done, I would.” He spoke slowly, almost warily. Did he think she might abuse him? Break down or go into screaming hysterics? Of course, she wouldn’t allow herself the luxury yet. But if he offered her money, she’d scream the place down.
She inserted her key in the lock.
“Goodbye Caroline.” He ran his finger gently across her trembling lips.
“Goodbye.” Blinking back tears she watched him stride off. Once inside the apartment she broke down completely, crying until she was exhausted. Her head ached so badly, she feared it might split open. After gulping down a couple of painkillers, she crawled into bed.
Caroline woke to the sounds of Kerry and Trevor’s laughter. How could they laugh? She’d never be able to laugh again. Shame and remorse overwhelmed her. Bryce might be a mature, experienced man, but she was equally culpable, more so if she were honest. She had suggested that they
go to his apartment.
She’d known the dangers. What man could refuse such a blatant sexual invitation? He would have assumed he was dealing with an experienced woman. Probably thought she was easy, promiscuous, like many of her age group into free love and damn the consequences.
She valued her reputation and morality. It lay in tatters now, though. The sensible, if cowardly, way out would be to ring up Bryce on Monday and say she wouldn’t be coming in anymore. Being a masochist, she couldn’t do it. Of course, he might fire her to save himself from embarrassment.
“We’re home.” Kerry danced into the bedroom. At least she had enjoyed her weekend. “Did you have a good time at the party?”
“Yes, terrific. Bryce drove me home. I don’t feel up to talking now, sorry. I’ve got a shocking headache.”
“We’re off for some Chinese food. Like me to get you some?”
“No thanks, I couldn’t.” The thought of food nauseated her. If she never ate again, it would be too soon. She stayed in bed, easier than facing an inquisition from Kerry on her return.
Chapter Ten
On Monday morning when the alarm went off, Caroline wanted to stay in bed forever. The mere thought of facing Bryce gave her palpitations. She dressed in a bright tangerine dress in the hope it might add some color to her wan appearance. A touch of liquid makeup camouflaged the ravages caused by a weekend of weeping.
Kerry didn’t comment on her paleness but kept giving her long, speculative looks over the breakfast table. To save her life, Caroline couldn’t have told her friend about Friday night. She felt too ashamed.
She caught the bus to work, went through the glass doors and up in the elevator without seeing anyone, thank goodness. When she entered her office she noticed that Bryce wasn’t in yet. Switching on the power to her typewriter, she started typing out the memo left over from Friday. It needed to be circulated around the building, notifying staff that the firm would be closing down on Christmas Eve and resuming on the second of January.
Four more days to go and then she would have a week off to lick her wounds. “God, give me the strength to carry on until Christmas Eve,” she muttered. Bryce came in a short while afterwards.
“Good morning, Caroline. How are you feeling today?” He stopped beside her desk.
“I’m all right, thanks.” She didn’t raise her head, too embarrassed to even glance at him.
He hovered for a moment before striding into his own office.
The buzzer sounded about ten minutes later. Gathering up her pad and pencil, she took a couple of steadying breaths and headed for his office. You can do this. She had to do it if she wanted to keep her job. It was as simple as that. She rapped on the door and walked in before her courage deserted her.
Bryce was sprawled out in his chair, one foot resting on his desk, but he swung his foot down the minute he saw her. She took her usual chair opposite him and sat with bowed head, as if studying her shorthand notebook.
She felt his gaze on her, but didn’t look up. A taut silence hung between them. Tangible, embarrassing.
He cleared his throat. “I’ve several letters to dictate. After that, if you could get Geoff Davies to come in here, please, I’ve decided to take a few weeks off. I need a break.” A ghost of a smile flitted across his face. He gave her another long, considering stare before starting to dictate.
She finished several letters and one long report.
“That’s the lot, thanks.”
She scuttled back to her office. He hadn’t specifically mentioned Friday night, thank goodness. But what could he say? I’m sorry for having sex with you? And the worst part? That it had been just sex. Love didn’t come into the equation as far as he was concerned.
She worked hard all day, stopping only for a quick lunch break. Mr. Davies came in to see Bryce and they were closeted together for over an hour.
At long last it was time to leave for home. Never in her whole life had she felt so relieved to see the end of a day.
***
For the next four days Caroline ate, slept and went to work like a robot. Bryce became his usual unpredictable self. He snapped at her on several occasions. Obviously, as far as he was concerned, Friday night never happened. Of course, it would be different for a man, particularly one who lived by the twin mottoes of ‘Variety is the spice of life’ and ‘Love them and leave them.’
She had thrown her note pad at him one day after he accused her of being too slow. “If I’m not fast enough,” she yelled, her nerves shredded. “Do it yourself.” Storming out of the office she slumped in her chair, expecting him to dash out and terminate her employment.
Five minutes passed, and then Bryce calmly sauntered over to her, dropped the pad on her desk and said. “Yours I believe.” Without another word he returned to his office.
Amanda Cleveland minced in a short while later. “I want to see Bryce.”
Her canary yellow silk dress had a matching jacket. A wide-brimmed straw hat covered her dark curls. She looked decked out for a day at the races.
“Mr. Harrington might be busy,” Caroline began, but Amanda brushed her off.
“He’ll see me.” She swept past like a yacht in full sail and went into the office, slamming the door behind her. She came back about fifteen minutes later with a self-satisfied smirk, like a greedy cat that had just lapped up a saucer of rich, fresh cream.
“Oh, that man is absolutely devastating,” she commented to Caroline. It was the only time Amanda ever spoke to her in a civilized tone.
Amanda had returned with a vengeance. Was she good in bed? Of course, Bryce wouldn’t bother with her otherwise. Or would he? They both came from wealthy, privileged backgrounds, the crème de la crème of Melbourne society.
He strolled out about half an hour later. “Would you order some flowers for Miss Cleveland please, the usual. Oh, and get some for yourself, whatever you fancy.” He strolled back into his own office. How incredibly cruel! Her heart felt as if it had been shredded by a razor. How could a man make love to a woman a few nights ago then get this same woman to send flowers to his latest fancy? Worse still, offhandedly tell her to order some for herself, now that really made her blood boil. I’ll have to leave here. No way can I endure such purgatory.
When Bryce returned from his holiday she would hand in her resignation. Was Amanda going away with him? It devastated her to think so. She would have preferred to be gone before he got back, but many businesses closed over December and January, and few employers would be willing to put on extra staff at this time of year.
She couldn’t afford to be out of work. There was no future here now, only the three ‘h’ words. Hurt, heartbreak and humiliation. Amanda had unwittingly given her the courage to leave.
***
After work on Christmas Eve, some of the staff congregated at a nearby hotel for a few drinks. She hadn’t wanted to go but couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse to get out of it. A few of the other bosses attended, but not Bryce. Only decent break she’d had all week. Caroline ordered a gin squash and sat down next to Mr. Davies to drink it.
“I hope you have a Merry Christmas,” he said sincerely.
“Thanks, I hope you do, too, also your family.”
This would be the worst Christmas she had ever put in, it went without saying.
“Is everything all right?” He sounded genuinely concerned.
“Yes, of course. Like everyone else I need a break,” she lied.
“I’m looking forward to working with you after the holidays, my dear. Bryce has filled me in on everything, so I don’t think we’ll have too many problems.” He gave one of his charming smiles.
She felt terrible knowing she planned to leave him in the lurch.
They were a cheerful crowd at the hotel. With a second drink under her belt, she joined in on the merriment to a certain extent. Finally, wishing each other the compliments of the season, they drifted out into the street and went their separate ways.
When Caroline a
rrived home, Andy was there. “Hi!” She dashed up to him, flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek. “You can’t know how pleased I am to see you.”
“Wow, what a welcome. I’m happy to see you, too.”
“Look.” Kerry pushed her way between the two of them. “Do you like it?” She waved her hand about.
“You’re engaged,” Caroline squealed. “Congratulations.” She hugged her friend, happy to see her so ecstatic.
“She nagged me into it.” Trevor grinned.
“Yeah, I’ll bet she did, mate.” Andy slapped him on the back. “We need a drink to celebrate.”
Caroline opened a bottle of coke and they toasted each other. “To the happy couple,” Andy said, and they touched glasses.
“Merry Christmas and a happy and prosperous New Year,” Kerry yelled out.
Caroline couldn’t stop a little twinge of envy as she watched Kerry’s excitement. It made her future even bleaker than ever. No job. No Bryce. What kind of masochist could love a man who treated her with such contempt?
“Are you okay?” Andy stared into her face. “You’re as white as a ghost.”
“I’m all right, just been working too hard.”
“Bryce Harrington is an ungrateful slave driver. He didn’t even give you a Christmas present,” Kerry raged. “After all you’ve done for him.”
“Everyone got a movie voucher.”
“That was from the company, not him.”
“It doesn’t worry me.” What a lie. It hurt that he hadn’t bothered to buy her a gift. “Take some money out of petty cash and buy yourself something for Christmas,” he had said. She didn’t want anything from petty cash. She wanted something from him, fool that she was.
“Anyway, I’ve decided to leave Harringtons.”
“Good for you.” Kerry clapped her hands. “You’re wasting your time and talent there. Arrogant bastard doesn’t appreciate you. Wait until he realizes how much work you took off his hands. No one else would put up with his crap. Serve him right,” Kerry finished off viciously.
Make Love Not War Page 10