by Penny Jordan
Perhaps if she just kept quiet it would all fall into place properly. Perhaps none of this was actually real, and she was just having a dream.
She nipped her arm with her fingers, and grimaced ruefully as she rubbed at the resultant sore spot. She wasn’t dreaming!
‘Come on.’
Jay took hold of her arm and hustled her back to the waiting car. He said something to the driver in a language that was vaguely familiar. She had heard it somewhere recently.
Dolores… She had a momentary vision of the Mexican woman talking to her husband. That was it! The language Jay was speaking was Mexican. But what were they doing in Mexico?
As they drove back into town, they went into a dusty, ill-lit square, dominated at one end by the dignified simplicity of the small white church.
The church. Through her confused thoughts trailed provocative wisps of memory: a priest… incense…an altar…familiar words.
Her mind cleared, and she looked at Jay, exclaiming stupidly, ‘We’re married!’
He wasn’t looking at her. His hands were clenched on his knees.
‘Yes, and we can be divorced just as soon as you put your name to a piece of paper giving up all your rights under my grandfather’s will!’
All her rights… That included her co-guardianship of the twins… She frowned as the muzziness swept back. The car stopped, and she stumbled slightly as she got out. Jay supported her, but there was no tenderness in his hold.
No tenderness… She shuddered deeply, remembering, dark shamed colour stinging her face as she recalled how willingly she had allowed him to bemuse her.
‘I was drunk,’ she said quietly. ‘I didn’t know what I was doing. The priest…’
As though he knew what she was going to say, Jay interrupted mockingly, ‘I told him that you’d over indulged in a pre-wedding celebration.’
‘And he believed you?’ She could hardly credit it.
‘You didn’t need any persuasion to make the right responses,’ he told her drily. ‘In fact…’
She didn’t want to hear any more. She was beginning to have distinctly disturbing flashes of memory. Of herself clinging to him, of being kissed by him and wanting those kisses. She groaned and touched her pounding head. What on earth had possessed her? And how much had she actually had to drink?
‘I don’t normally drink. I don’t have any alcohol tolerance.’ She was shivering now, and angry with herself for telling him this.
His eyebrows rose. ‘Really?’
She hated the mockery in his voice as he drawled, ‘That brandy was a special one ordered by the old man. It’s strong stuff, and best left to those who can handle it.’
He was laughing at her, damn him! Natasha clenched her fists and knew impotently that there was nothing she could do. He had been remarkably quick to take advantage of her folly; but she was the one who had given him the opportunity to do so. She was the one to blame for this ridiculous farce of a marriage.
They were outside the dusty entrance to a small hotel, and Jay opened the door to it for her, ignoring her smothered gasp of dismay.
The desk clerk raised his head and surveyed them sleepily.
‘We want two rooms for the night,’ Jay told him.
‘Two rooms? Sorry, señor, there is only one. The others, they are all full up.’
She heard Jay swear under his breath. ‘OK. We’ll take it.’
The clerk handed him an old-fashioned, heavy key, and gave him directions in Mexican.
Natasha waited until they were out of earshot of the clerk, before stating positively. ‘I’m not sharing a room with you—marriage or no marriage…’
‘Don’t flatter yourself. You’re in no danger from me. Like I already told you, I don’t go in for other men’s leavings…’
‘Not even when the other man is your brother?’ Natasha said cynically.
The look he gave her could have split stone, and she instantly wished her acid remark unsaid.
‘In here,’ Jay directed, stopping outside a door and unlocking it.
The room was small and fusty, the heat barely dispelled by an old-fashioned ceiling fan.
‘Bath’s over there,’ Jay told her, indicating a door in the far wall. ‘Use it if you want to, and then we’d both better try to get some sleep.’
For a man who had just kidnapped her and forced her into an unwanted marriage, he seemed remarkably unconcerned.
‘I’m not sharing this room with you,’ Natasha repeated coldly, only to suddenly feel the cotton-woolly sensation cloud her brain once again. Not as strong this time, but enough to make her forget what it was she had been about to say and instead to put a hand to her head and cling to the edge of the bed.
She heard Jay saying something to her and knew that he was angry, but she no longer cared. An inescapable tiredness was claiming her, sending her to sleep almost where she stood. She heard herself speak in a drugged, slurred voice that she barely recognised as her own, and then she was being picked up, placed down on the bed, which proved to be surprisingly comfortable. Someone spoke to her, demanding something, but she rolled over on to her front to block out the sound, letting the waves of sleep wash over her and carry her deeper and deeper into unconsciousness.
* * *
SHE CAME to slowly, conscious that all was not as it should be, but unable to identify the reason why, until she realised that she was not alone in the strange bed, and furthermore that she was not wearing a nightgown, but instead seemed to be dressed only in her bra and briefs.
She turned her head, flinching away from the sight of Jay’s dark head on the pillow next to her own. She was in bed with Jay…
It took several minutes for that to sink in and, while it did, other things began to surface. Blurred memories of a night-time flight, of a church and a wedding…
She sat bolt upright, shock coursing through her. She and Jay were married! He had married her so that she couldn’t marry Adam, so that he wouldn’t lose half of the ranch. He had married her and, in doing so, had fulfilled his grandfather’s plans for him.
But they couldn’t stay married. She couldn’t remain married to a man who despised her, who had kidnapped her…who had stated quite plainly how much he loathed and detested her… Just as she loathed and detested him! Didn’t she? That other thing, that sensation that uncurled inside her every time he touched her, that was just a regrettable physical reaction—nothing important, nothing that needed to be taken into consideration.
She turned her head unwillingly and looked down at him. He was still deeply asleep. Black lashes curling against the hard jut of cheekbones shadowing the bronzed planes of his face. His jaw was dark with overnight stubble.
Why was she sitting here gazing at him like this? Why wasn’t she making her escape, leaving while she could, so that she could expose him for what he had done to her? There was nothing to stop her from going. Nothing at all…
She moved tentatively towards the side of the bed, her whole body going rigid as a hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, a sleep slurred voice demanding, ‘Just where do you think you’re going?’
‘To the bathroom. I…’
Weakly, she said the first thing that came into her head, making an ineffectual grab for the sheet when she realised how much of her body was exposed to him.
The white lace of her bra concealed very little, and she felt hot colour scorch her face as his eyes raked her body in a swiftly comprehensive glance.
‘There’s no need to act the shy virgin with me—I know it all, remember?’ he derided softly.
Much as she longed to tell him that, on the contrary, he knew nothing, Natasha kept her lips pressed tightly together. The last thing she needed now was to get involved in another blistering argument with him.
It had gradually come to her how dependent she was on him. She was in a foreign country, a strange town. She had no money, no documents, nothing. If he chose to walk out and leave her here… She shuddered inwardly.
Of course,
she could always ringAdam, but how on earth could she explain to him what had happened? How on earth could anyone believe that she had actually been drunk and married against her will? It all sounded far too preposterous.
‘What are you waiting for?’ Jay goaded her. ‘Me to turn my back?’
His sarcasm hurt. Refusing to respond to it, she slipped out of the bed, quickly gathering up her clothes where they had been folded and left on a chair, and hurrying into the bathroom.
Jay must have undressed her last night. At least he had had the decency to leave her with the brief covering of her underwear… She was surprised that he hadn’t simply let her sleep in her clothes.
She showered quickly in the rust-stained shower, wishing she had something more than a handkerchief with which to clean her teeth. But then, she had scarcely come equipped to stay the night. And neither had Jay, she remembered, recalling his anger at the storm that had delayed them.
She glanced at her watch. It was gone eight. Already they would have been missed at the ranch. Already people must be wondering where they were.
Pulling on her dress she hurried back into the bedroom, coming to an abrupt halt as she saw Jay standing at the side of the bed, lazily rubbing the dark mat of hair that covered his chest.
He smiled tauntingly when he saw her.
‘What’s wrong? Never seen a real man before? You should be more choosy about whom you sleep with.’
She wanted to hit him, throw something at him! But caution stopped her. Despite his taunting words, there was a look in his eyes that warned her of the likely physical response any attack on her part would encourage.
It gave her no pleasure to realise that physically he wanted her. She averted her eyes from his body and said in a strained voice, ‘It’s gone eight. They’ll be wondering where we are…at the ranch.’
‘Yes, we’d better get back.’
While he was in the bathroom, she toyed with the idea of leaving, but knew that it was impossible. How far could she get on foot and with no money? No, it was better to wait until they got to the ranch before she made any attempt to extricate herself from the situation.
Hadn’t he said something about a divorce last night? Her forehead crinkled in a frown. Something about her signing the ranch over to him?
She almost laughed aloud, as she reflected how unnecessary his abduction of her had been. If he had only known it, she had been about to break the terms of the will herself.
* * *
‘WHAT ARE YOU going to tell them when we get back to the ranch?’ Natasha demanded half an hour later when they were airborne and heading back to Texas.
‘Why, that we went and got married, of course,’ Jay told her lazily.
‘It will be the shortest marriage on record! The first thing I’m going to do is to go into Dallas and…’
‘And what? Tell your boyfriend?’
‘No, find myself a lawyer who can draw up an agreement that will set me free from this farce.’
Jay said nothing, and Natasha was forced to settle back into her seat in frustrated silence.
The moment they touched down, a vehicle appeared, throwing up a cloud of dust.
Rory was driving it, curiosity written quite plainly on his face as he watched them both alight from the plane.
‘Sure have caused a fuss and commotion down at the homestead,’ he commented laconically as they got into the truck. ‘Those two kids have been fussing and fretting over you fit to beat the band, wondering where you was gone to.’
This last comment he addressed to Natasha alone. Her heart, frozen into a state of numb shock by the events of the night, thawed a little.
‘Quit talking and keep driving, Rory,’ Jay demanded. ‘It’s been a long night.’
For some reason the drawled comment sounded full of hidden meanings and Natasha felt herself blushing. Now Rory would probably surmise that the two of them had sneaked away for a…for a night of uninterrupted sex, and there was nothing she could do to correct that misapprehension.
Rory stopped outside the ranch. Jay climbed out first, and then helped her down. She wrenched away from him, anger darkening her eyes, resentment for his false concern filling her.
‘You’re back… Where have you been?’
Cherry came racing out to greet them, Rosalie not far behind.
‘Yes. We thought you must have gone to Dallas, but—’ She broke off and looked over her shoulder at the man following her.
Natasha stopped dead. Adam was standing frowning at her, his mouth a tight line of resentment.
‘We telephoned him, because we thought you must have gone to see him,’ Cherry explained, her eyes going from Jay’s unreadable face to Natasha’s pale one.
‘Yes, and he said you hadn’t, and then he got someone to fly him right out here.’
‘Natasha! What the hell’s going on?’
Adam came up to her, his hand grasping her arm, hurting her almost.
Almost instantly Jay was standing between them, his shadow threatening that of the small man.
‘Take your hands off my wife,’ he said quietly. ‘Or do I have to make you?’
His words had the effect of a gun going off. Everyone froze and then stared at Natasha.
The twins recovered first, racing over to her, and flinging their arms round her.
‘You did it! You did it!’ Cherry chanted. ‘You made Uncle Jay fall in love with you. I knew you would.’
Rosalie was not as vocal, but her pleasure was as evident as her twin’s.
Dolores who had appeared in the doorway, relaxed her grim stance and smiled. Of all of them, only she and Adam seemed to be unable to make any sort of response.
Adam was staring at her as though he had never seen her before, while Jay remained at her side, very much the proud and protective husband. Unless one happened to know the truth, Natasha thought bitterly.
She ached to cry out that it was all a farce, that he had only married her out of greed and spite, but somehow the words wouldn’t come, and then Adam’s hand fell away from her arm, and he was turning away from her.
Soon he would leave, and he wouldn’t come back… She knew that…
‘You’re a fool, Natasha,’ he told her as he left. ‘He’s only marrying you so that he can have full control of this place.’
She didn’t need Adam to tell her that. Behind her, Jay made a sound of satisfaction.
‘You’ve lost him now,’ he told her mockingly. ‘He thinks you’ve sold out to the higher bidder.’
Much as she longed to vent her misery and rage on him, Natasha controlled herself. A barrier of cold indifference behind which she could withdraw was her best defence now.
She left him and walked into the house, the twins following her, plying her with eager questions.
‘Now, you just let her alone,’ Dolores told them, adding scoldingly to Natasha, ‘Running off and getting married in the middle of the night! Whoever heard of such a thing…’
‘But it must have been really romantic,’ Cherry interrupted dreamily. ‘Uncle Jay must really love you, Natasha.’
What could she say? She sank down into a chair and accepted Dolores’s offer of coffee, shaking her head when the housekeeper suggested that she might also want something to eat.
‘You’re losing weight,’ the Mexican woman told her disapprovingly. ‘Jay should have waited until a quieter time of the year and taken you away for a proper honeymoon… Paris. Now that would be a fine thing.’
Why on earth was everyone persisting in believing that she and Jay had married for love? Surely it must be overwhelmingly obvious that no such emotion existed between them? In the twins she could understand it—just—they desperately wanted to re-create the sense of family they had lost with their parents’ death. But Dolores…surely she could see that there was no love in Jay’s eyes when he looked at her?
A terrible weariness enveloped her. There was nothing she wanted more than to go and lie down in her room, but how could she?
Her mouth felt dry; a legacy from the brandy she had drunk. Her stomach heaved queasily at the memory.
She shuddered a little. She had known Jay could be ruthless—but to marry her against her will? It was a marriage that wouldn’t last for very long, she reminded herself comfortingly. Just as soon as she could, she would make sure it was dissolved. Jay would let her go willingly enough once she had handed over half of the ranch to him.
Since it was a busy time with the cattle, Jay, thankfully, was away from the house. When Natasha refused any lunch with a pale-faced, lack-lustre smile, Dolores took charge of the twins, banishing them with the admonition that they were to let Natasha have some peace.
‘You go out and sit on the veranda,’ Dolores suggested. ‘You won’t be bothered out there. I’ll send someone out with a jug of my homemade lemonade.’
She rather liked being cosseted, Natasha discovered, giving in to Dolores’ unexpected spoiling. It had been a long time since anyone had fussed over her like this… Now that she and Jay were married Dolores seemed to view her in a different light. Her original antagonism had been replaced by an almost motherly concern.
Natasha didn’t deceive herself that this concern was entirely for her. She suspected it was partially, at least, her status as Jay’s wife that had given rise to it.
Even so, it was pleasant to relax in one of the lounging chairs in the shade of the veranda, and simply lie back and close her eyes.
If she had been feeling more energetic she could have gone for a swim in the pool, but she simply couldn’t raise the enthusiasm.
One of the girls Dolores employed to help her in the kitchen and around the house came out with a tray of lemonade. She gave Natasha a shy smile and she put it down.
The same longing to sleep which had enveloped her earlier, returned, but now she could give in to it, closing her eyes and letting her body relax.