Now or Never

by Penny Jordan

  ‘Why don’t we have our coffee upstairs in my suite?’ Ryan was suggesting softly.

  Laura gave him an old-fashioned look. The hotel where he was staying was renowned for the luxury of its accommodation, and it was a favourite place for honeymooners and romantic trysters.

  ‘No doubt it comes complete with candlelit Jacuzzi, and champagne,’ she mocked him.

  ‘I’m not sure about the candles. They would probably set the smoke detectors off.’ He laughed. ‘But there is certainly a Jacuzzi, and champagne, and a plethora of strategically placed mirrors.’ Ryan gave her a smile that made her toes curl as desire ached through her.

  It was her night off, and theoretically there was nothing to stop her from staying overnight with Ryan. Nothing!

  After all, she was not Nicki, and Ryan’s wife was not her mother!

  Inwardly exultant, Ryan watched her. She was trying to appear cool and in control but Ryan knew women. She wanted him.

  Summoning the waiter, he asked for the bill, and, without releasing his hold on Laura’s hand or her gaze from his own, he signed when it came and then stood up, expertly drawing her to her feet with tender care.

  ‘Coffee,’ he murmured. ‘Upstairs. In my suite.’

  The suite floor had its own private lift, a huge plush affair in keeping with the whole ambiance of the hotel itself. The doors hadn’t even closed properly before Ryan took her in his arms and began to kiss her with a fierce, silent passion that excited her far more than if he had said anything to her.

  Somehow or other he had pushed her back against the side of the lift, the pressure of his thighs heavy and hot against her own body.

  The shirt she was wearing was plain white cotton and not in the least bit sexy, or so Laura had believed, at least until Ryan had plucked firmly at her nipple through it, rubbing it between his thumb and forefinger until it was stiff and aching and then dextrously sliding her breast free of her bra cup beneath her shirt. Dragging his mouth from hers at the same time as he picked her up, he placed his mouth over her breast and sucked—hard—on her tight nipple.

  The explosion of sensation that rocked her arched her back, tightening her whole body into a bow of sexual readiness, and brought a small mew of pleasure to her lips.

  The lift rocked gently to a standstill. Ryan released her, smiling as she gazed at him with glazed, disbelieving eyes. As the doors opened and they stepped out of the lift Laura caught a glimpse of herself in their mirror. Quite clearly, through the damp patch of cotton clinging to her breast, she could see both the dark pink aureole of her nipple and its even darker thrusting peak.

  17

  The letter was waiting for Maggie when she got home. It had been pushed beneath the door and lay face down in the hallway, but immediately she knew what it was, her stomach churning nauseously as she stared at it, willing it to disappear.

  When it didn’t, she skirted carefully around it and headed for the kitchen. It had been a day of unexpected emotional intensity in several different ways, and she already felt as though her emotional batteries had been drained, leaving her with nothing with which to recharge her defences.

  Oliver’s words of love to her this morning had touched the most sensitive and protective part of her; Nicki’s behaviour had left her feeling bruised and aching with sadness for the friendship she seemed to have lost; but it had been Alice’s news about Dan’s return that had had the most intense effect on her.

  The past was the past and she had no desire whatsoever to revisit it, but she had loved Dan with a passion, a completeness, a mixture of emotions that had gone soul deep and could never be entirely rooted out of her.

  When he had left her, she had prayed that he would find what he so badly wanted with someone else, so that at least in one way the pain she was going through would have some real meaning, some real worth.

  The kettle had boiled, but Maggie ignored it, drawn compulsively back into the hall and the letter lying there.

  As she bent to pick it up the baby gave a flurry of small kicks, as though it too wanted to escape from its dangerous menace.

  Protectively Maggie placed her hand over the place where the small foot was making a tiny but very definite bulge in her flesh.

  ‘It’s all right,’ she reassured. ‘Everything is all right…We are all right…’

  Instead of laughing at her when she talked to the baby, Oliver joined in. They had decided not to be told the sex of the child she was carrying, but Oliver was convinced that it was a boy, and he was already planning the excursions they would make together to watch his own favourite football team.

  ‘He, if he is a he, might not like football,’ Maggie had teased him straight-faced, bursting into laughter when she had seen his expression.

  But she wasn’t laughing now.

  Her fingers trembled as she held the envelope, carefully turning it over.

  A jumble of odd-sized letters cut from magazines and newsprint spelled out her name. ‘Maggie—Baby Thief.’

  Common sense warned her not to open it, to simply throw it away unread, but already she was walking into the kitchen with it, holding it in one hand whilst the other cradled her bump as though she were already protectively cradling Oliver’s child in her arms.

  Stella gave the empty kitchen an irritated look as she hurried in. She had a committee meeting this evening and she was already running late. Not that she was sure she would be able to go out yet. Jack had started to get very fussy about who gave him his feed, often refusing to take his bottle unless Stella herself was the one who gave it to him.

  ‘Honestly, you can’t blame him when you see the way that Julie shoves the teat in his mouth,’ Stella had told Richard.

  ‘Give the girl a chance, Stella,’ Richard had responded, adding, ‘It might make things a bit easier for her if you helped her occasionally instead of always being so ready to criticise her.’

  If she was quick, she would probably have time to run upstairs and give Jack his bath before she went out, she decided, ignoring her rumbling stomach.

  The door to the top-floor flat was open, and as she walked through it Stella could hear both Julie’s voice and Richard’s.

  Frowning slightly, she pushed open the door into the small sitting room, which had originally been furnished for her late mother-in-law, her frown deepening at the unexpectedly domestic scene that greeted her.

  Julie was leaning against the wall, holding a mug of coffee, whilst Richard sat in a chair, holding Jack. For some reason the fact that the baby was contentedly guzzling down the contents of his bottle whilst his grandfather and his mother chattered amicably over his head only added to Stella’s irritation, especially since when she had previously tried to persuade Richard to take an interest in the baby by pointing out to him how much he looked like their own son, he had steadfastly refused to do so.

  ‘Look, if you want to go out this evening, Julie,’ she announced, ‘I can look after Jack.’

  ‘It’s okay, I’ve already arranged to drop him off at Mum’s,’ Julie told her.

  Before Stella could say anything, Richard reminded her frowningly, ‘I thought you had a committee meeting tonight.’

  ‘Yes, I do, but it isn’t an important one and I could have cancelled it.’ She flushed a little when she saw the look Richard was giving her, although he didn’t say anything until a little later on after Julie had gone out and they were on their own in the kitchen.

  ‘I know how much Jack means to you, Stella,’ he began. ‘But you’ve got to remember that he is Julie’s child and she has her own plans for his future.’

  ‘He may be Julie’s child, but he’s also Hughie’s child and our grandson,’ Stella pointed out quickly.

  ‘Hughie might have fathered him,’ Richard told her, ‘but that doesn’t make him his father. Hughie doesn’t want to be his father. He doesn’t want the responsibility of a child.’

  ‘No, and neither does Julie. I know that,’ Stella agreed, seeing an unexpected opportunity to tell Ric
hard what she wanted them to do. ‘Julie intends to have Jack adopted, but he’s our grandchild, Richard. We are his family, his blood.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I want us to adopt him. It wouldn’t be difficult,’ she rushed on. ‘I’ve checked with a few people I know who…who deal with this sort of thing, and the feeling is these days that it’s preferable to place a child within its own family where possible…’

  ‘Stella! No!’

  The authoritative severity of Richard’s denial shook her a little. She had been expecting him to protest, and even to argue a little—Richard instinctively objected in principle to anything that might interfere with his own hallowed routine. But the stern way in which he was regarding her was so out of character that for a moment she did not know how to react to it.

  But then she quickly reminded herself of all the many occasions in the past when she had had to act for the greater good of everyone concerned and take charge, even if it had meant overruling Richard in the process.

  ‘Look, it’s the obvious thing to do,’ she insisted. ‘After all, a hundred years ago it was quite common for grandmothers to bring up their grandchildren alongside their own children. And look at Alice, she’s virtually bringing up those two boys of Zoë’s. It makes sense, Richard. Julie will be able to go back to school, and then on to university, and of course she’ll be able to see Jack whenever she wants to. I mean obviously, at some stage, she’s going to get married and no doubt want to start a proper family, but that’s a long way in the future and—’

  ‘And when she does we will be free to keep Jack. Is that what you’re thinking?’ Richard challenged her sharply.

  Stella frowned, not comprehending the reason for his anger or its intensity.

  ‘Well, why not?’ she demanded. ‘It makes sense, surely you can see that…’

  ‘Does it? What if Julie should have plans of her own for Jack?’

  ‘You mean having him adopted, but I’ve already explained to you. We can do that. Oh, honestly, Richard. Haven’t you listened to anything I’ve been saying? That’s your trouble, you know. You never really listen. Anyway, I don’t care what you say! I’ve made up my mind. Jack is going to stay with us!’

  ‘I have been listening, Stella,’ Richard told her grimly. ‘But you are not the person who has the right to make decisions about Jack’s future. Julie—’

  ‘Oh, Julie!’ Stella interrupted him dismissively. ‘She loves Jack, of course, but she’s so young, Richard. She’ll be only too pleased to have us take over the responsibility of caring for Jack from her. She’s much more interested in going out with her friends than she is in being a mother, anyone can see that.’

  Richard was still frowning, but Stella ignored both his frown and the grave look he was giving her. She knew she was right. And besides, the thought of anyone other than herself mothering Jack and bringing him up was unthinkable, unbearable!

  ‘Where’s Dad?’ Joey demanded as he looked at the clock. ‘He’s normally home by now!’

  ‘He’s…he’s had to go away on business,’ Nicki lied. She would have to tell Joey that Kit wasn’t coming back, of course, but not yet. One day, when he was older, he would understand why she had had to do the things she had done…why she had needed to protect him.

  As he bent his head over his homework she studied him with aching, tormented love. Yes, he was safe now! But for how long? What if Kit tried to take him away from her?

  Her heart started to beat frantically.

  Her conversation with Dan had left her feeling confused and upset. She knew that he had been lying to her and that he had been trying to protect Maggie, because he still loved her.

  But she didn’t care about that. She was even glad about it. Reawakening her love for Dan, sharing herself with someone other than Joey, just wasn’t something she wanted to do, she realised now. It was too complicated, too stressful. In order to keep Joey safe she needed to be free to dedicate herself totally to him. And besides, in the animal world male animals sometimes killed the young they had not fathered themselves. And at bottom human beings were still programmed by the same feral instincts for survival as animals. Maggie, Maggie, what was it about her that made her so special? Nicki wondered resentfully. Why should she be having this baby when her own…?

  But at least she had Joey. For now. Until something, someone took him away from her.

  But she could not let that happen. The thought of him being unhappy or in pain tore at her until her emotions were raw with agony.

  This world was just not a fit place for her precious son to live in. It was not a safe place for him to live in!

  ‘Mum, when I’ve finished my homework can I go out and play?’ Joey asked her pleadingly.

  ‘No! No, Joey. You have to stay in. It isn’t safe out there,’ she told him frantically. ‘You must stay inside, in here with me.’

  Laura moaned, her face contorting, her hands reaching up above her head to grip the bed head as, with every powerful, deliberately slow, tormenting thrust of his flesh within her own, Ryan drove her further and further up the bed.

  It was sex as she had never known it and never even thought previously of wanting, stripped bare of emotion and perfected into a physical art form that left her shocked by how much she wanted it, begging for more as Ryan had slowly and sensually aroused every one of her senses. Long, long before he had finally entered her she had forgotten why she had ever thought it necessary to run away from both him and her own desire for him.

  Her orgasm came quickly and intensely; so intensely that the only sound she could make was a guttural shocked exclamation of almost unbearable pleasure as it gripped and possessed her, contorted her from head to toe and convulsed her into spasms that stole her senses and her breath.

  She heard the phone ringing as she started to come down, Ryan cursing as he apologised ruefully to her.

  ‘Holy Mother of God, I clean forgot to switch it off. It’s my youngest, Liam. Probably wants to know why I haven’t telephoned to read his bedtime story.’

  Laura knew that he was trying to be humorous, but the last thing she felt like doing was laughing. Listening to him, too sexually exhausted to move, Laura was filled with a self-revulsion almost as intense as her orgasm had been.

  She could hear Ryan talking to his son as he got up off the bed and headed for the privacy of the suite’s sitting room, blowing her a kiss en route.

  Like an automaton, she gathered up her clothes and headed for the bathroom, locking herself in while she did what she had to do and then showered and dressed. Her fingers felt numb, trembling over buttons and zips, but her mind wasn’t numb. How could she have done what she had just done? How could she? And even now when her mind, her emotions were crawling with self-loathing, her body was still glorying, gloating in the physical aftermath of her self betrayal! Was this how Nicki had felt?

  ‘Oh, it’s you.’ Narrowing her eyes drunkenly, Zoë stared at Laura. ‘Decided not to stay in your new flat, have you?’ she demanded in a disgruntled voice.

  Laura frowned as she looked at her. Even without the evidence of the vodka bottle on the table and the almost empty glass, the overly careful way in which Zoë was trying to form her words would have given away the fact that she had been drinking.

  ‘I suppose the boys are asleep, are they?’ Laura asked her.

  ‘S’pose so.’ Zoë shrugged. ‘I dunno, though. They’re at Ma’s. I rang her and asked her to keep them until the morning. So when are you going to leave, then, and move into your new flat?’

  ‘What new flat? Zoë, I—’

  ‘The flat your daddy was in our office renting for you today,’ Zoë spat viciously at her. ‘And if you think I don’t know what you’re up to you can think again. You’re after Ian, aren’t you? Well, there’s no way—’

  ‘Zoë.’ Laura stopped her sharply. ‘I am not “after” Ian, and as for this flat I think you must have made a mistake.’

  ‘Isn’t a mistake. Only mistake I made was in trusting you and thinking you
were my friend,’ Zoë told her morosely, her speech deteriorating into a thick slur.

  Uneasily Laura watched her as she reached for the almost empty bottle and poured what was left of it into her glass.

  ‘I don’t think—’ she began, but Zoë interrupted her immediately.

  ‘Don’t pay you to think,’ she said nastily. ‘Don’t pay you to shag my husband either…You’re all the same. Everyone’s the same,’ she hiccuped, tears of self-pity flooding her eyes.

  Laura suspected she might have felt more compassion if she had not already witnessed more than half a dozen similar episodes, although this was the first time that Zoë had actually been verbally abusive to her.

  Refusing to listen any longer to her, Laura went upstairs to her room and dialled the number of her father’s mobile.

  What Zoë had said about him renting a flat was nonsense, of course, but…

  ‘Dad?’ she exclaimed when Kit answered. ‘Look, I know this sounds crazy, but you haven’t been in the estate agents’ where Zoë works today, have you? You have?’

  On the other end of the line, Kit sighed. He should perhaps have expected this.

  ‘Look, I can’t go into everything now, Laura. But, well, Nicki and I have both agreed to give our relationship a bit of breathing space. And I called at the estate agents’ to check out some flat details.’

  ‘Where are you now?’ Laura demanded anxiously.

  ‘I’ve booked myself into the country club for a couple of nights.’

  ‘I’m coming over,’ Laura told him firmly.

  When she went back downstairs she could see Zoë slumped across the kitchen table, talking to herself, and oblivious to her departure.

  Stella had been a few minutes late arriving for the committee meeting. She had seen Todd out of the corner of her eye and had been relieved when he had not made any move to come over to her. Whenever she thought about her ridiculous behaviour with regard to him now—which was as infrequently as she could—she was filled with a sense of scornful disbelief, tinged with alarm. How could she ever have imagined that she wanted him? She could hardly bear to think of what might have happened, of what she could have missed if she had allowed herself to become involved in a fully fledged affair with him. She might have lost Jack! The very thought made her blood run cold.