by Helen Brooks
There were plenty more.
At thirty-eight years of age, Zeke had been building his empire for twenty years with a ruthless determination devoid of sentiment. He was no respecter of persons; in the two years since they had been married—she had walked down the aisle on her twenty-fifth birthday—Melody had come to realise that, whether someone was a big star or a virtual novice, Zeke treated each artist exactly the same. He expected total dedication and one-hundred-per-cent commitment and if he got that he was charm itself. If he didn’t…
Undoubtedly the charisma he exuded as naturally as breathing helped—especially with the ladies. He was tall at six-foot-four and big with it, although Melody knew for a fact there wasn’t an inch of surplus fat on the muscled male body. His broad shoulders and tough physique dwarfed most other men, and his face was hard and rough-hewn, too strong-featured to be called handsome by any stretch of the imagination. But he had something much more powerful than pretty-boy good-looks: a magnetism that emphasised his raw masculinity and cynical, sexy appeal.
The sharply defined planes and angles of his face were unsoftened by his jet-black hair and dark ebony eyes framed by thick short lashes, but it was his mouth which had always fascinated her. In repose it was deliciously uneven and stomach-quiveringly attractive, and his voice… On their first date she had felt she could listen to the deep, smoky tones for ever. She still did.
But she had made her decision and it was irrevocable. She didn’t belong in Zeke’s world any more. Perhaps she never had. And she wasn’t going to cling onto him until even the memories of the happiest time in her life were soured by the present. She had never understood what it was about her that had made him love her in the first place—not when he could have had any woman he liked—but the Melody he had married was gone.
Forcing a strength into her voice that belied her trembling inside, Melody said, ‘How did you know I was leaving today? I haven’t told anyone.’
‘But I’m not anyone. I am your husband.’ He smiled, but it didn’t reach the coal-black eyes.
A sliver of ice ran down her spine. She recognised that smile that wasn’t a smile, although it had never been directed at her before. But then she had never had occasion to challenge him in the past and come up against his inflexible will. ‘We’re separated and I’ve told you I want a divorce.’
‘And I’ve told you only over my dead body,’ he said conversationally. ‘So, do we stand here in the cold, discussing this for the next umpteen minutes, or are you going to be sensible and come home with me?’
Now she felt a welcome flood of adrenaline as her temper rose. ‘I have no intention of doing either.’ She glanced over at the taxi rank outside the hospital gates. ‘I’m getting a cab to where I want to go, so may I have my case, please?’
He shook his head. ‘No can do.’
She glared at him. ‘I mean it, Zeke.’
‘So do I.’
‘Fine. Keep it.’ She had her handbag over her shoulder, containing her credit cards and cash. ‘But just leave me alone.’
‘Stop this.’ The studiously calm pose vanished. ‘I’ve stayed away the last six weeks, as you asked. I thought that would give you time to come to your senses after the doctor said my presence was upsetting you and hindering your recovery—’ the icy quality to his words told her how he had received that news ‘—but I’m damned if this ridiculous farce is continuing for another hour. You’re my wife—we’re in this for the long haul, remember? For richer or poorer, in sickness or health, till death do us part.’
She only heard the ‘long haul’ part. It suggested gritted teeth, a fulfilment of duty, doing the ‘right thing’ when everything in him was crying out against it. It confirmed all her fears. She felt herself shrinking, dwindling away to nothing.
Zeke had never made any secret of the fact that he delighted in her body. Every night of their marriage and sometimes in the day too he had worshiped her with his lovemaking, taking her to heights she had never imagined as they gloried in each other. He was a skilful and generous lover, adventurous but infinitely tender, intent always on giving her pleasure even as he satisfied his own desire. She had never slept with anyone before Zeke because she had never been in love with any of the men she had dated, and she’d always known she wanted to wait for ‘the one’. And then Zeke had blazed into her life like a dark, glittering meteor, and within two months of their first meeting she had been Mrs James.
Melody took a deep breath, and as she did so the first starry snowflake wafted by in the wind. ‘It takes two to keep a marriage together, Zeke. You can’t force me to stay.’
‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this.’
‘Believe it because I mean every word.’ She was amazed her poise was holding. ‘Things are different now.’
His opinion of her last statement was decidedly profane, but she didn’t flinch in the face of his anger. He stared at her after his outburst, conflict evident in every line and contour of his rugged features. ‘Are you telling me you don’t love me any more?’ he ground out finally. ‘Is that it?’
She lowered her eyes from the brilliant black orbs boring into her. She couldn’t lie convincingly otherwise. Allowing her hair to swing forward and hide her face, she muttered, ‘Yes, that’s it. I don’t love you. All right?’
‘Look at me and say it.’ His fingers forced her chin upwards. ‘Tell me you’re prepared to wipe away the last couple of years and all we’ve shared together as though they never happened. Tell me that and look me in the face while you do it.’
‘Of course they happened, and I’ll always be grateful for them, but things move on. People change.’ She could hear herself saying the words as though it was someone else speaking.
‘I haven’t changed!’ He suddenly shook his head in rapid movement, signifying a silent apology for his raised voice. ‘I haven’t changed,’ he repeated more softly, the sensual, smoky quality to his voice apparent. ‘And I simply don’t believe you have either.’
‘Oh, I have,’ she said, with such bitterness he couldn’t fail to believe her. He had married a young, whole woman. Now she didn’t feel young any more and she certainly wasn’t whole. She was a mess, inside and out. And there was no room in Zeke’s world for emotional and physical cripples.
‘You mean the accident? Your legs?’ He was speaking so quietly she almost couldn’t hear him. ‘That doesn’t make any difference to me—surely you know that? You’re still you—’
‘No.’ Her voice was brittle but with a thread of steel running through it. ‘I’m different, Zeke. And you can’t wave a magic wand and make me the old Melody, any more than you can pretend I’m not damaged. I’ll never dance again. I’ll never even walk without a limp. I have months of intensive physiotherapy in front of me and they’ve already warned me the chances of arthritis as I get older are high. I could end up in a wheelchair at worst.’
‘I know all that. I’ve been seeing the consultant on a regular basis and I have worked out a programme of treatment with him.’ Before she could react, he took her arm again, adding, ‘It’s starting to snow and you’re getting cold. Come and sit in the car at least.’
‘I’ve told you I’m getting a cab.’ He was wearing a black overcoat and he looked very big and dark as he glanced down at her. A part of her noticed the way his hair curled over his collar, unlike his usual short, almost military style. Was that intended or did he need a haircut? For some reason she found the thought weakening, and to combat this her voice had a sharp edge as she added, ‘And I don’t want you talking to my consultant again, okay? Much less deciding on my treatment. I can look after myself. We’re not together any more, Zeke. Deal with it.’
Before she had met Zeke she had looked after herself for years after all. She knew from her grandmother that her father had walked out on her mother before she was born, but, her mother having died when Melody was little more than a baby, she had no recollection of her. Her maternal grandmother had brought her up, and as her mother had be
en an only child there had been no aunts and uncles or cousins in her life, and her grandfather had divorced her grandmother years earlier and moved away.
Consequently it had been a somewhat singular childhood, especially as her grandmother had discouraged friendships with other children. She had lived for the twice-weekly dance lessons she’d attended since a small child. At the age of sixteen she’d been accepted at a dance school and had just graduated from there when her grandmother had passed away, leaving her a small inheritance. She had moved from her home town in the west of England to the capital, finding a bedsit and beginning to look for dancing work while practising every day. Once her nest egg was gone she’d been forced to take other jobs between dancing engagements to pay the bills, but she had been happy enough while she waited for her ‘big break’. And then the part of Sasha had come along and she had met Zeke and her life had changed for ever.
‘You’re being extremely childish, Melody,’ Zeke said, in a tone which one would use with a recalcitrant toddler having a tantrum. ‘At least let me drive you to where you want to go. What do you think I’m going to do, for crying out loud? Kidnap you and spirit you away against your will?’
It was exactly the kind of thing he would do, and her face was answer enough. Her green eyes were a perfect mirror of her thoughts.
Zeke clicked his tongue in exasperation. ‘I give you my word—how’s that? But you must see we need to talk? You owe me that at least. The last time we talked you were all but hysterical and I had half the medical team at the hospital breathing down my neck and accusing me of delaying your recovery. I didn’t understand what I’d done wrong then and I still don’t. And I intend to get to the bottom of this.’
‘I wrote to you last week,’ she said flatly, knowing he had a point. But how could she explain to Zeke what she didn’t fully understand herself? She just knew it was impossible for them to be together. ‘There’s nothing more to be said.’
‘Ah, yes, a lovely little missive,’ Zeke said with heavy sarcasm. ‘A few lines stating you wanted a divorce, that you required nothing at all in the way of settlement and that in view of this kindness you expected the divorce to go through without contest. Well, I’ve got news for you. There’s no way—no way—I’m going to let you walk away from me. You’re my wife. When I made those vows they were for life. It wasn’t some kind of nice little event that could be put to one side when it suited.’
Her chin came up. ‘I’m not a possession, Zeke, like your Ferrari or your villa in Madeira. This acquisition can think and feel.’
‘Don’t twist my words,’ he said with remarkable calm. ‘Now, are you going to let me take you where you’re going without a scene or shall I put you over my shoulder and carry you to the car? The choice is yours. I’m easy either way.’
She didn’t make the mistake of saying You wouldn’t dare. Zeke would dare. Drawing on what was left of her limited supply of dignity, she eyed him icily before allowing him to lead her in the direction of the car. It wasn’t hard to pick it out. There weren’t too many sleek black Ferraris crouching in the hospital grounds. The car was like its master—distinctive.
The few desultory flakes of a minute ago were thickening into a real snowstorm as Zeke helped her into the car. She watched him as he walked round the bonnet, her heart aching and her stomach churning. This was just the sort of confrontation she’d been hoping to avoid, but then she might have known Zeke wouldn’t give up so easily. She had known it. Hoped, even? a little voice asked. Which was ridiculous and self-indulgent. Zeke was constantly surrounded by the cream of the entertainment industry, and it wasn’t just the wannabes who offered themselves to him on a plate. Women were drawn to him like pins to a magnet. She had seen it so often at parties and functions. He had that undefinable something which would be worth a fortune if it could be bottled and which had nothing to do with his wealth. She’d often teased him and said he’d have made an irresistible gigolo if he’d decided on a different career. It didn’t seem so funny now. Then she had been confident in her youth and perfectly honed body. Now…
He didn’t start the car immediately, turning to her in the luxurious leather-clad interior as he slid an arm along the back of her seat. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said huskily, the ebony eyes as soft as black velvet. ‘Every minute, every hour.’
No, don’t do this. His anger and irritation she could cope with; then he was the Zeke the world knew—hard, determined, ruthless. But with her he had always been the opposite to those things. And when a man as big and masculine as Zeke revealed his soft centre it was terribly seductive. From the first evening, when he had waited for her outside the theatre, he had been open and vulnerable with her in a way that had cut through her initial dislike and antagonism like a knife through butter. The more so when she had learnt his history.
Zeke had grown up in the care system from the age of eight, when his single mother had finally abandoned him after years of neglect and disappeared who knew where. He freely admitted to having been a troublesome child and an even more troublesome youth, and remembered one teacher predicting he’d either be a villain or a millionaire—or maybe both—by the time he was thirty after yet another of his misdeeds had come to light.
‘That teacher did me a favour, although he didn’t know it at the time,’ Zeke had told her one evening over dinner at a fancy restaurant, when she’d been seeing him for a couple of weeks. ‘It was one of those crossroads in life—a decision time, you know? It would have been easy to go down the dark route—I was already more than halfway there—but to make a fortune legitimately was harder. More of a challenge. And I’ve always liked a challenge. So I decided to prove something to him and to myself.’
She remembered she had stared at him, fascinated. ‘And is that the only reason you veered on the side of law and order?’
‘I should say no—that deep down I wanted to do the right and noble thing—shouldn’t I?’ he’d answered with the crooked grin which had already become so familiar to her. ‘But the truth of it is I didn’t think that way then. I’d lived in dumps mixing with all kinds of types when I was with my mother, and once in care I developed a huge chip on my shoulder. I was an angry young man, I guess.’ His grin had widened. ‘I’d have been an excellent villain, though.’
She’d laughed with him. ‘I’m glad you chose the route you did,’ she’d said a little breathlessly, somewhat overwhelmed.
His face had straightened and he’d reached across the table for her hand. ‘So am I,’ he said softly, ‘and never more than at this moment. I would have found it very hard to look into your eyes and ask you to love a man like that.’
She’d blinked before murmuring, ‘And is that what you’re asking me to do? To fall in love with you?’
‘I’ve loved you from the minute you stood on that stage and put me in my place, and I’ve never told another woman I love her because it hasn’t been true before. I don’t want to rush you but I want to marry you, Melody. I want you to be my wife, the mother of my children, my partner through life. I love you, I want you, I need you and I adore you.’ He’d let go of her hand and leant back in his seat. ‘Does that answer your question?’ he’d drawled self-mockingly.
They had got engaged that night and married six weeks later, and she had felt her life had only begun the day she had met Zeke. To have someone who was hers, who loved her, had been sweet.
She turned her head from him now, hardening her voice as she said, ‘You shouldn’t have come here today, Zeke.’
‘The hell I shouldn’t. Nothing could have prevented me.’
The snow was coating the windscreen in a blanket of white, shutting them in their own little world. He was so close the faint familiar smell of his aftershave mingled with leather from the car’s interior, evoking memories Melody could have done without. Memories that turned her fluid inside.
She knew he was going to kiss her, and when he turned her chin to face him she didn’t resist, steeling herself instead to show no reaction as h
is mouth claimed hers. It was a slow, leisurely, sensual kiss, not the hard, possessive onslaught she’d half been expecting, and it took all her willpower not to respond to the magic of his lips. But she managed it. Just.
When his mouth lifted from hers she saw his eyes were narrowed as he searched her face. ‘I see,’ he murmured after a moment. ‘Do you think you can keep it up?’
His body warmth reached out to her, dark and compelling, as she swallowed hard before muttering, ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
He smiled faintly. ‘Of course you don’t.’ He leaned forward again and kissed her thoroughly and with an enjoyment he made no effort to rein in, and by the time he finished Melody was not only kissing him back but trembling with desire.
‘There.’ His voice was very soft as he tilted his head to look down into the clear green of her eyes. ‘That’s better.’ He stroked a strand of blond hair from her cheek, his touch tender. ‘Can we go home now?’
Melody stared into the tough, furrowed face and suddenly a flood of anger burnt up all other emotion. Drawing away from him, she said bitingly, ‘Is that all you think it takes? A kiss and I’m putty in your hands?’
A muscle in his cheek twitched at her direct hit.
‘I’m not going home with you, Zeke. Not today, not tomorrow, not any time.’ Ignoring the cloud of fury darkening his features, she continued, ‘Whether you accept it or not, our marriage is over. Now, if you’re not going to take me to the hotel I’ve booked into, I’ll get there under my own steam. Okay?’
There was a long pause when he turned from her and gripped the steering wheel as though he wanted to break it. Then without a word he started the engine and the powerful car growled into life. ‘Where do you want to go?’ he asked coldly, his tone searing her, and after she’d given the name and street of the hotel he pulled out of the parking space.
She had won. He’d given in. As they passed through the hospital gates she sat still and numb, refusing to feel or let herself think. The time for that could come later, when she was alone. For now she had to remain in the bubble that had surrounded her. It was the only way to retain her sanity.