The Bride In Blue

by Miranda Lee

  His first reaction to the news of the baby was dead silence and a rather remote stare. Then he cleared his throat and shifted some of the papers around the desk before looking up at her again, this time with a still disappointingly bland look on his face. 'And are you pleased?' he asked.

  'Very,' she said truthfully. 'I've always wanted children.'

  He nodded, his mouth curving into an oddly wry smile.

  'I thought you wanted children too,' she blurted out. 'I thought you'd be happy about it!'

  'I'm very happy about it,' he said.

  'You don't seem to be.'

  'I'm just a little shocked that you got pregnant so quickly, that's all. Still, I suppose, in the circum­stances, it was a likely occurrence…' He frowned down at the floor for a few seconds before slowly lifting his eyes back to hers. 'Do you want to move back into your own bedroom?'

  She was startled, both by the question and the hardness that had come to his face, and those beautiful blue eyes of his. 'Why… why would I want to do that?'

  'I thought the doctor might advise it, in the light of your previous miscarriage.'

  'No, he insists I don't do anything different to what I normally would. He… he specifically said there's no reason to abstain from normal lovemaking.'

  'What's normal lovemaking?' Jonathon asked drily.

  Sophia was flustered by the question. 'I… I didn't ask. Normal, I suppose. I… I don't know.' She was blushing, yet didn't know why.

  'I'll give him a ring and see what he means. Meanwhile, I think you'd better sleep in your old room.'

  'But I don't want to!' she protested.

  'It's only a temporary measure.'

  'What will Maud and your mother think?'

  'They won't think a thing after you tell them about the baby, except that I'm being a very considerate and sensitive husband. Don't make a fuss, Sophia. It is my job to look after you and your baby's welfare. Don't make it difficult for me.'

  She stared at him, thinking it was going to be dif­ficult for her as well. The hours spent together in bed at night were the only time they were alone, the only time she had respite from the feelings that welled up within her every night over dinner. She would sit across the table and eat him up with her eyes, having missed him terribly all day, but he would hardly even look at her, hardly speak to her. It was no wonder their time in bed meant so much. Now he was going to deny her the only part of the day she enjoyed, the part she looked forward to with every fibre of her being.

  Yet she could hardly argue with him in the face of his common-sense consideration, even if it did seem unnecessary. She was only six and a half weeks pregnant at the most. How could making love at this stage be a danger to the baby growing inside her?

  'Sophia, why won't you answer me?' Wilma went on impatiently. 'Is Jonathon being mean to you?'

  Sophia snapped out of it to turn a shocked face her friend's way. 'No, of course he isn't. He's been kindness itself since I told him about the baby last week.'

  'Well I'm glad to hear that, because he's been like a bear with a sore head at the office. Lord knows what it would take to please that man consistently. He has a beautiful young wife who's going to have his baby, yet he's been acting as if he's got a perma­nent toothache.'

  Wilma's words sent a huge wave of satisfaction flooding through Sophia. So he was missing their nights together as much as she was! She hugged the knowledge to herself, however. Wilma had done enough manipulating of their lives already. If she found out her protégées weren't sleeping together she would come up with some devilishly wicked plan to put things right.

  Sophia knew how Jonathon hated that kind of thing. Now that she knew he was suffering as much as she was, she could almost bear the situation. But she wanted to kill that stupid damned doctor for telling Jonathon that, if his wife was unduly worried, they could abstain from sex till after she passed the three-month mark.

  'I'll be glad to see the back of him for a while,' Wilma pronounced crossly.

  Sophia's head snapped round. 'What do you mean? Is Jonathon going away?'

  'You mean you don't know? God, isn't that just like him! Yes, he's flying up to the Gold Coast again tomorrow. Lord knows why. We haven't a prayer of getting that casino job no matter what he does.'

  'What casino job?'

  Wilma flashed her a pitying look. 'He really does keep you in the dark, doesn't he? If you don't watch it, you'll end up like one of those poor Mafia wives, seeing no evil, hearing no evil, speaking no evil. Now don't look so down-in-the-mouth, darling; if you want to know something just ask dear old Wilma. I'm a mine of information.'

  'In that case, tell me about this casino job.'

  'Well, we were one of the companies who put in a tender to the Queensland government for a new casino they want built on Gold Coast. I suggested to Jonathon that we should lower our bid, but no, the arrogant fool thinks being cheap is not the way to success. I tried telling him times had changed since his father built the company's reputation of quality alone. He's probably hoping that if he wines and dines the right people, he might be able to sway them at the nth moment.'

  'But you don't think so.'

  'No, I would have written that deal right off and moved on. To be honest, I'm surprised he's dug his heels in on this and insists on one last try. In my book, its dead money and dead time.'

  Sophia sat there, in the passenger seat of Wilma's car, feeling sick. There was no doubt in her mind that Jonathon's trip away had nothing to do with that casino job. Any wining and dining he would do would be opposite some absolutely stunning-looking and highly sophisticated woman, the sort who only needed superficial romancing to end up in bed with a man like Jonathon. How many days would he need, she wondered bitterly, to rid himself of his growing frus­trations? Two? Three?

  She guessed three. That might hold him till after she had passed the three-month deadline.

  'Have you booked his return flight?' she asked in a taut voice.

  'Yes. He's tentatively coming back on Tuesday night, but he did say he might change that till Wednesday if he needs the extra day.'

  Three days. Maybe four. He must really be in a bad way, she thought savagely.

  Sophia wanted to scratch his handsome face to death, wanted to mar his beauty so that no woman would ever look at him again. Her jealousy was so painful, her envy so overwhelming, that she had to bite her tongue to stop herself from screaming.

  'I suppose he hasn't mentioned his plan to take you out to dinner tomorrow night yet either, has he?'

  Sophia's mouth fell open. Not once since their marriage had Jonathon taken her anywhere. They'd had Harvey and his latest girlfriend over to dinner one night. But, other than that, they had not social­ised as a married couple in any way.

  Not that Sophia had minded. She'd long come to terms with her being a home body. She wasn't one of those girls who wanted a career, or the bright lights. She enjoyed far simpler pursuits. Reading, going to the movies, watching television, gardening, cooking.

  A real Tammy character, she'd come to appreciate after seeing one of the old Tammy movies on tele­vision and finally understanding what Jonathon had meant that day. Tammy was a country girl whose simple homespun ways endeared her to the hearts of the wealthy society family she comes to live with. Of course, fiction gave way to fact in her own case. Whereas Tammy won the love of the son in the family, all Jonathon felt for her was a lust that was easily transferred on to any other desirable female.

  'I made the booking at the restaurant for him myself,' Wilma prattled on, 'so that's how I know. I think he's feeling guilty about going away, especially after working such long hours over the past few weeks. Of course, things aren't going too well in the real estate business at the moment. I think he's worried, which might go some way to explaining his bad moods.'

  Sophia frowned at this. 'Jonathon's having money worries?'

  Wilma laughed. 'Hardly. His family owns huge holdings in other much safer pies than real estate. Parnell Property
Developments could fold tomorrow and Jonathon would survive. Handsomely!'

  Sophia shook her head. It was the handsome part that bothered her the most. Would she feel this way about Jonathon if he were as ordinary-looking as Godfrey had been? Was his success with women all bound up in that superbly structured face and those compelling blue eyes? She didn't know. Neither did she know what she felt for Jonathon any more. If it was just lust, then it was growing stronger, not weaker. Wasn't lust supposed to wear off after a while?

  'What kind of restaurant is it?' she asked wearily, her confusion seeming to drain all the anger and fight out of her.

  'Now don't be like that. Jonathon wouldn't go away if he didn't feel he had to. The man's besotted with you!'

  Sophia couldn't help the dry look she darted over at Wilma.

  'He is!' the secretary insisted. 'And I should know. I saw him through his obsession with Charmaine. But this is different. Do you know he has a photograph of you on his desk? It's one he took of you on Christmas Day with the camera you gave him. I see him looking at it sometimes when he thinks no one is watching and the expression on his face almost moves me to tears. As for you, Miss Muffet, you don't fool me for a minute. You try to be cool when you talk about Jonathon but it's plain as the nose on my face that you adore him.

  'Of course I realised that ages before the devil took you to bed, which was why I had to make sure he did! It's only natural that you adore him even more now. Dear old Charmaine would be spitting chips if she saw you two together. I'll bet she thinks she left behind one broken-hearted man. Instead, he has a beautiful wife whom he loves to death and who's having his baby. What more could a man want to be happy?'

  Sophia was speechless. What more indeed, if it was true? Could it be so? Was it possible? Did they love one another?

  'Have I embarrassed you?' Wilma asked when Sophia remained thoughtfully silent.

  She thought of confiding in Wilma then dismissed it. 'No, no, of course not. What kind of restaurant is it you've booked?'

  'Oh, very swank. It's not far from Parnell Hall, actually. It's attached to a five-star motel and ex­tremely popular, which is why I booked early.'

  'How should I dress?'

  'That black number you wore to the party wouldn't go astray.'

  'I think not, Wilma. I'll splurge and buy something new, something more… subtle.'

  'Ooh, I like that. Subtle. What on earth are you up to, Mrs Parnell?'

  Sophia merely smiled.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  'You look very lovely tonight,' Jonathon said as he handed her into the passenger seat of his black Jaguar. 'Very… sophisticated.'

  He could not have used a more pleasing word. It was the look she'd been striving for when she'd bought the elegantly tailored cream silk suit. Sophistication. The jacket was especially slimming, the long line minimising her breasts and hips, while still giving her a very feminine shape. Her hair was compressed tightly into a French roll, a curl hanging in front of each ear to soften the severe hairstyle, as did the gold and pearl drop earrings. Her cream shoes exactly matched the cream of the suit, and she carried a small gold evening purse.

  The whole outfit, plus underwear, had hardly put a dent in her generous expense account, but it still seemed an enormous amount to her to spend on clothes. Still, she staunchly blocked any guilt over the extravagance. She would do anything, spend any­thing, if it brought Jonathon to her bed tonight. But she wasn't confident of success. Not at all.

  'New perfume?' Jonathon asked after sliding in behind the wheel and sniffing the air in the enclosed cabin.

  'In a way,' came her seemingly smooth reply. 'You had Wilma buy it for me months ago but I opened it for the first time tonight. I kept it for a special occasion.'

  'How sweet,' he said.

  Sophia swallowed and turned her face away from him to stare through the passenger window as he re­versed out of the garages. Her nerves were becoming steadily worse. Jonathon was looking absolutely gorgeous tonight in a dark blue suit, pale blue shirt and burgundy silk tie. He was also being very charming, but in the most underminingly remote fashion, acting more like a hired escort than a sup­posedly besotted husband taking his wife out for a romantic dinner the last night before he was going away.

  Wilma was wrong. Sophia could see that now. Jonathon was not in love with her. She could not ex­plain the photograph business except that, somehow, Jonathon's secretary had got that wrong too. She must have misinterpreted his expression when he'd looked at it.

  Dismay settled on her heart like a cold damp sponge. Wilma had at least been right about one thing. She did adore Jonathon Parnell. Maybe it was still a bad case of lust, but Sophia doubted it. It was not desire that was impelling her to try to seduce her husband tonight, but desperation. She needed to stop him from going to another woman's arms. She couldn't bear to think of it. She just couldn't bear it.

  The restaurant was probably very, very nice, but Sophia hardly noticed its decor. The menu, too, was no doubt splendid, but she found herself duplicating Jonathon's order because she was too agitated to study it properly.

  It was as well she liked seafood, since their meal started with oysters, then moved on to a lobster dish with an unusual sauce. The wine was white, chilled and dry. She drank it in gulps rather than sips, bringing frowning looks from Jonathon before he ac­tually said something.

  'I thought Godfrey had taught you about wine,' was his blunt comment. 'It's not meant to be downed like root beer. Keep that up and you'll be under the table before we get to dessert.'

  Quite frankly, that was where Sophia would have liked to be at that moment. Under the table.

  But her discomfort was nothing to how she felt a minute or two later when she noticed her husband's attention riveted on a blonde woman seated by herself against a front window. The light from some neon signs outside was shining on her strikingly beautiful and sultry face, highlighting the honey-golden colour of her glorious hair, as well as the well tanned cleavage on display above the deeply cut bodice of a skin-tight white dress.

  As though sensing Jonathon's eyes on her, the blonde's head turned. Her eyes locked on to his and simply refused to let go. Her smile, when it came, was soft, sensuous and insidiously seductive, her lips falling sexily apart before the mouth lifted into a de­licious curve. Sophia could not tell the colour of her eyes from that distance but she was sure they would be blue, just as she was sure that the woman's name would be Charmaine.

  'Why don't you go over and talk to her?' she snapped. 'Since you're so wrapped.'

  Jonathon's eyes carried surprise as they turned back to her rapidly reddening face. 'It is your ex-wife, isn't it?'

  'Yes,' he admitted. 'It's Charmaine.'

  Perhaps it was the wine which had loosened her tongue, but, once having started, Sophia found she couldn't stop. All the jealousy in her heart seemed to pour out in an acid tirade.

  'Did you love her very much, Jonathon? I'd like to know. Was she good in bed? I wonder if you would have been able to stop making love to her if she had conceived your child. But above all, I wonder if you were as unfaithful to her as you're going to be to me this coming week?'

  His stare vibrated with shock, and then anger. 'What the hell are you talking about it? I have no intention of being unfaithful to you, either this week or any other week.'

  'Oh? Are you denying now that during all those trips away before Christmas you didn't sleep with other women?'

  'That was different,' he hissed under his breath. 'And you damned well know it.'

  Their argument might have continued if Sophia hadn't seen Charmaine move out of the corner of her eye. My God, the woman was actually going to come over. The hide of her! The gall!

  Sophia lanced her with visual daggers as she sashayed over, undulating every inch of that tall un­forgettable figure for Jonathon's benefit, as well as every other male's in the restaurant.

  'I hope I'm not interrupting anything,' Charmaine said with saccharine sweetness, stroking a
long blonde lock back over her shoulder from where it had fallen into the valley between her breasts, a valley which deepened as she leant artfully on the table in Jonathon's direction.

  Sophia watched the obvious gesture with cynical disdain. Were men really taken in by creatures like this? If she was what Jonathon preferred, then he wasn't the man she thought he was.

  'I just couldn't let you leave without coming over and saying hello,' she purred, totally ignoring Sophia's presence. 'As you can see, I'm back here in Australia, all on my lonesome ownsome. Naturally, my mar­riage to Chuck didn't work out. How could it, when I was still in love with you, darling?'

  Sophia sucked in a stunned breath and was about to tell the woman where she could take her outrage­ously rude and brazen self when Jonathon got in first.

  'Which just goes to show that you're still as big a liar as you always were, Charmaine,' he said in a voice dipped in ice. 'Now, if you don't mind, I'm having a quiet romantic dinner with my wife and we'd appreci­ate some privacy.'

  Charmaine turned a colour between grey and green before turning viciously cold eyes upon Sophia. 'This sweet young thing is your wife?' Her low laughter was vile. 'That was quick, Jonathon. Still, it was only to be expected, I suppose. But a brunette! You told me once you weren't at all attracted to brunettes. You also told me that…' She broke off, giggling coquettishly. 'Well perhaps I'd better not relate any more of the things you told me, otherwise there might be another divorce on the horizon. Ah, I see my coffee's arrived. Ta-ta, darling. She is sweet, though. Enjoy.'

  Sophia watched the woman undulate back across the room with turmoil in her heart.

  'Don't let that bitch upset you,' Jonathon snarled.