‘You’re back earlier than I expected,’ she remarked casually as she entered. He had his back to her as he waited for the kettle to boil. And he looked nice in a simple black sweatshirt and casual jeans.
‘I let my mother go home,’ he told her, ignoring her remark. His hand was shaking a little as he poured the boiling water on to the tea-bags. ‘She was concerned about you when she saw your car was still on the drive and you were nowhere to be found. You could have let her know that you weren’t taking your own car.’
‘It wouldn’t start,’ she explained. ‘So I caught the bus. I’m sorry,’ she added belatedly. ‘I didn’t think it would worry Jenny. I’ll apologise to her tomorrow…’
Silence. He still hadn’t looked at her, his whole attention seemingly fixed on the tea-tray he was preparing. It suddenly hit her that Daniel was blindingly angry about something. It showed in the cording of the muscles in his neck, in the way his every movement was being severely controlled as he moved about the kitchen without so much as glancing her way.
Had he seen? Letting out a nervous little laugh, she said, ‘I’m soaking wet through!’ Trying to sound normal and failing miserably, guilt was staining her cheeks red. And she knew that if Daniel did bother to look at her he would know in an instant that she had been up to no good. ‘I think I’ll go and have a hot bath,’ she decided nervously. Then, belatedly, ‘H-Have you eaten? Can I get you anything before I—’
‘No!’ he barked out so violently that Rachel jumped.
Chewing pensively on her lower lip, she watched him make an effort to control himself, his shoulders heaving on a long intake of air as he lifted his face from its contemplation of the teapot to stare at the slatted blinds covering the kitchen window.
‘No,’ he repeated more levelly. ‘I’ve already eaten. Thank you.’
‘Then I’ll…’ She floundered to a halt, staring helplessly at the uncommunicative length of his rigid back—then fled.
He had seen, she accepted uneasily as she watched the water fill the bath, and felt a skitter of alarm chase down her spine, but could not make up her mind whether it was caused by fear, guilt or just the sheer thrill of getting her own back if only in a small way.
She went to bed feeling tense with nervous anticipation, a driving defiance, and ready to do battle when Daniel eventually joined her.
But he didn’t join her. Daniel did not come to bed at all that night.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE next few weeks were horrible. Daniel turned into a grim-faced uncommunicative stranger, and their nights were cold, dark places where he did not so much as touch her. The children became fractious—excited about the coming Christmas, Rachel blamed, but really she knew that it was her and Daniel’s fault. The strain in their marriage was affecting the children almost as badly as it was affecting them.
The trouble was that she didn’t know what to do about it, short of going to Daniel and making a full confession of what had gone on between herself and Zac, before humbly asking for his forgiveness, and she couldn’t do that. It smacked too much of caring what he thought or felt, and she was determined not to care—outwardly anyway.
Then one day Rachel was sick. She spent the whole day wandering aimlessly around the house, feeling dullwitted and weak-tummied, and the twins had to pick that same evening after school to play noisily about the house until her head was thumping like a sledge-hammer, and she was plainly relieved when Daniel walked through the front door so that she could pass responsibility over to him and drag herself off to bed.
‘Why didn’t you call me?’ he rebuked as he watched her slog her way up the stairs. ‘I would have come home straight away if you’d only let me know you didn’t feel well!’
She just shrugged an obscure reply and continued on. It had not even entered her head to call him. In fact, she realised as she crawled beneath the duvet, she had never rung him at work—not in all the years since they married. Daniel called home often enough, but she’d never bothered to call him. And again she was struck by that invisible barrier they’d managed to erect between Daniel the husband and father and Daniel the highpowered businessman. And she could not bring to mind one single time when she had voluntarily crossed that barrier.
Well, whatever he was at this moment, she noted as she settled with relief into the blessed darkness, he had effectively quietened the children, and within seconds she had fallen into a blissful sleep which remained that way because not a single sound in the house was allowed to disturb her.
She came awake long hours later to find it was already morning and that Daniel was standing over her. ‘I thought you might want this…’ He was standing with a mug of something hot in his hand. As he spoke, he put it down on the bedside table. ‘How are you feeling this morning?’ he enquired coolly.
‘Better,’ she said, though she was very careful not to jolt her tender stomach as she levered her way up the pillows, then pushed her hair away from her pale face before reaching for the mug. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured.
Daniel hovered, studying her grimly. ‘I can take the day off,’ he offered. ‘Work from home if you want.’
Rachel shook her head. ‘It’s not necessary,’ she assured him. ‘I’ll probably feel a bit weak today, but I can manage OK.’
‘Still…’ It was odd, but she got the distinct impression he was struggling with something. ‘You’d better not plan on going to your class tonight—not while you’re feeling so under the weather…’
The mug of tea was hot. She blew absently at the steam. ‘We’ve planned a Christmas party tonight,’ she informed him as lightly as she could manage. ‘Zac is taking us all out to a club after class. I don’t want to miss it.’
Her tone smacked of the usual defiance, and from the corner of her vision she saw his jaw twitch revealingly. He was trying hard not to make the cutting remark she just knew was hanging on the end of his tongue. It was horrible; even while she wanted to taunt him, it was horrible.
‘We’ll see how you feel later,’ was all he eventually replied, then turned to leave.
And suddenly she felt an aching need to make him stay! ‘M-My parents are coming down for Christmas as usual,’ she rushed out, watching him halt stiffly by the bedroom door. ‘But we have a problem this year…’ He didn’t look at her, just waited for her to say what the problem was with his back placed firmly towards her. ‘Last year we didn’t have Michael taking up the spare bedroom. Now I don’t know how we’re going to put them up for two nights—I just can’t imagine my father jammed between two chairs in your study while my mother hogs the sofa in the sitting-room!’ She’d meant it as a joke but, as Daniel turned to look at her, she saw he was not smiling and felt her heart sink even deeper into that cold, bleak place where it existed these days.
‘So what do you want me to do about it?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve lost count of the times I’ve tried to get you to move to something bigger than this house. But you would never so much as discuss it. Well, now you’re stuck with a problem that you will just have to solve on your own, because I’m damned if I’m having anything to do with it!’
Rachel stared at him in angry amazement as he just turned and slammed out of the room.
She went to her evening class that night. Not because she felt well enough to go—because she didn’t. And not because she wanted to go—which she didn’t. But because she felt so angry with Daniel that she refused to give him the satisfaction he would feel if she stayed at home instead!
But she did not enjoy it. Her mind was preoccupied with a million and one things she could be doing at home, and her stomach refused to settle down. She was tired, tense and pale. And, on top of all that, Zac spent the whole time watching her through dark, disturbing eyes.
OK, so it was the first time since he first met her that he’d seen her in anything but jeans, and she had to acknowledge that he looked rather dishy himself in a dark silk lounge suit and creamy shirt. She was wearing a little black dress she had bought on that first bout
of restlessness that had sent her up to London to create her new image. It was off-the-shoulder, short and figurehugging, and she received several teasingly provocative comments from some of the other men when they saw her.
But the way Zac was looking at her made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. And his eyes kept on telling her that he was remembering that kiss they’d started in his car, whereas Rachel had spent the last few weeks trying to dismiss it from her mind. Which wasn’t difficult—it was the guilt that was the hardest to dismiss, not the kiss.
They were going on to a local nightclub later. It was in actual fact an old cinema converted into a club. They’d booked a table in the mezzanine restaurant that looked down on the old stalls area, which was now a disco dance-floor with laser lights and throbbing disco music played so loud that it was virtually impossible to speak. Any other time she would have thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing. The places Daniel took her to were more sophisticated and sedate, the restaurants quiet, the music easylistening, middle-of-the-road stuff. And until this last bust-up with him she had been quite looking forward simply to letting her hair down and discoing the night away.
As it was, her stomach would not let her enjoy the meal she’d ordered, and the music grated on her thumping head. Zac had pulled his chair up close to hers and was insisting on monopolising her attention with soft conversation that forced her to lean towards him to catch what he was saying, and brought her into too intimate contact with his body.
Then he began touching her—nothing too heavy, just light brushes of his long fingers against her arm, her shoulder, her cheek and her hair. But she became so uptight with the situation, and felt so helpless to know what to do about it without causing a scene in front of the others, that she was glad when he suddenly asked her to dance.
At least dancing meant no body contact—not the kind of dancing they did here anyway—so she let him lead her down the stairs on to the dance-floor, then almost groaned when, determinedly, he pulled her into his arms.
‘No, Zac,’ she objected, trying to move away from him.
‘Don’t be stupid, Rachel,’ he drawled. ‘It’s only a dance.’
No, it wasn’t, and he knew it. After weeks of playing it relatively cool, he had decided to make his move on her. And if she didn’t put a stop to him now, then she really would be guilty of betraying Daniel.
‘No,’ she repeated firmly, slapped his hands away and turned to walk off the floor.
She shouldn’t have come. She had known she shouldn’t have come after that kiss they’d shared in his car. She’d known from the moment their eyes clashed across the lecture hall weeks ago that she should not have anything to do with Zac.
He wanted her and she did not want him.
She wanted Daniel. Only Daniel. And that hurt so much that it made her want to weep inside.
She sensed Zac behind her as she made her way to the main foyer, but refused to look back at him as she moved grimly for the line of phone booths and began ringing the several different taxi companies whose telephone numbers were scrawled all over the pay-phone backboard.
But to no avail. It was Christmas, and anyone with any sense had booked their ride home before even coming out.
In sheer desperation she rang home, her stomach flipping wistfully when Daniel’s deep voice came impatiently down the line.
‘It’s me,’ she murmured huskily.
There was a long pause on the other end, where all she could hear was Daniel’s steady breathing whispering in her ear. ‘What’s the matter?’ he asked at last.
‘I—can’t get home,’ she confessed. ‘I’ve tried all the taxi firms and they’re all booked out…What shall I do?’
Just like that. As easily as that she had fallen back into her old Rachel role. Any problem, refer it to Daniel. He would deal with it. He would sort it out. And all she had to do was stand back and wait for a solution to come via the man who had never let her down yet. Not in this way anyway.
There followed another silence, and Rachel lowered her head, hugging the dark grey plastic receiver to her ear, as though by doing so she was hugging tightly to Daniel himself.
‘Won’t your—Romeo bring you?’ he taunted eventually.
‘He’s not my Romeo!’ she denied. ‘And—anyway,’ she added, ‘I…’ No, she changed her mind about what she had been going to say, not wanting to give Daniel the pleasure of hearing that she did not want Zac anywhere near her. ‘I can’t drag him away from a good party so early just because I’ve had enough—can’t you come for me, Daniel?’ she pleaded softly.
‘What about the children?’ he came back sarcastically. ‘Am I supposed to leave them here on their own while I come out to get you?’
‘Oh.’ She felt foolish again. She hadn’t considered that problem. All she had done was realise she was in a mess and ring the man who always put things right for her.
‘Now she wishes she had taken my advice and employed a nanny!’ he mocked her acidly.
‘I’ll get Zac to bring me,’ she hit right back. The nanny thing was an old point of friction between them. Daniel wanted a bigger house, a housekeeper to take care of it, a nanny to take care of the children. What Rachel would like to know was what was left for her to do if he made her redundant in just about every part she played in his life.
‘I’ll call my mother, get her over here to sit while I come and get you.’ Daniel changed tack like a sailor, his voice like a rattlesnake waving its tail in warning. ‘I’ll have to get her out of bed, I suppose, and she won’t like it—for which I don’t blame her. But I’ll—’
‘Oh—no,’ Rachel drawled in angry refusal. ‘I wouldn’t like to think that I had inconvenienced you all to that extent. Zac will do it just as easily!’ And she slammed down the phone before Daniel could come back with a reply.
‘No luck?’ She turned to find Zac leaning against the wall, not three feet away from her, his eyes flickering curiously over her angry red cheeks. She had no idea how much of her conversation with Daniel he had overheard, and at that precise moment didn’t care.
‘No,’ she clipped. ‘I’ll just have to call one of the taxi firms back and book the next car they have free.’ Her shrug told him she was already resigning herself to a long wait.
‘I’ll take you,’ he offered. Rachel stared at him dubiously. She did not feel like half an hour more of his company. But then neither did she feel like hanging around here for the hour or so the taxi companies had said she would have to wait. Zac made the decision for her, reaching out to take hold of her wrist. ‘Come on,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ll take you—I’ll take you, Rachel.’
His green eyes mocked her foolishness. And, tired, fed up and feeling more than a little depressed by the constant emotional battle she seemed to be having with everyone around her, including herself, she gave in.
They went together to retrieve her coat, then braved the biting December wind outside to scramble inside the bright red Porsche. Then they were driving out of the club’s car park and on to the main road while she huddled into her thick woollen coat, watching emptily as the salt-stained road slid slickly beneath them.
‘Why do you put up with him when he’s such a selfish bastard?’ Zac bit out suddenly.
‘Aren’t all men?’ she countered tartly.
‘Not like Daniel,’ he muttered. ‘I still find it hard to believe that he’s married to someone like you.’ He glanced at her. ‘The Lydia Marsdens of this world suit him much better, you know.’
It was a ruthless thrust and hit home painfully, draining her lungs and blanching her face, because she couldn’t even argue the point with him. Lydia Marsden was probably more suited to Daniel—not that she’d ever seen the woman to judge—not that she ever wanted to see her.
Lydia Marsden was the faceless ghost who visited her in the night. That wretched haunting was more than enough to deal with.
‘And Mandy Sales,’ he added tauntingly. ‘That was quite a revealing confrontation you all had on the dance-
floor that night, wasn’t it?’
‘You overheard?’ Rachel gasped.
‘Half the room overheard it, darling,’ he drawled. ‘And stood in stunned amazement as it all began to sink in. Daniel Masterson—’ his smile was drily mocking ‘—whiz-kid of the new-age tycoons, had a little wife and three children tucked away nobody seemed to know about—I bet that news, when it got out, hit Lydia right where it hurts the most. She was after marrying him, you know. Daniel was the ideal choice for an up-andcoming corporate lawyer like her.’
So Lydia was a lawyer, not Daniel’s secretary, as she had assumed. The news jolted her. Compete with that if you can, she mocked herself bitterly. It was one thing believing you were fighting an ordinary secretary for your husband’s attention—but some female hot-shot lawyer?
As if thinking along similar lines, Zac murmured curiously, ‘If you’ve been married for seven years, then that means you caught him before Daniel made his meteoric elevation into the killing-fields of finance. So what does that make you, Rachel?’ he asked. ‘A hanger-on from his reckless youth?’
Insults were insults and, in Rachel’s mind, some were probably deserved. But that last remark had aimed to cut—and cut it had, if only because it pierced directly at the truth she was beginning to believe for herself.
‘I think you’d better shut up and stop this car so I can get out before you say something I’ll take real exception to,’ she snapped.
To her consternation he did exactly that, pulling the car into the kerb and stopping with a jerk before turning to glare angrily at her. ‘Well, I’ve already taken exception,’ he muttered, ‘to the way you’ve been playing me along all these weeks. My God!’ he grated before she could say anything. ‘I never stood a chance with you, did I?’
‘No,’ she answered honestly.
‘Then why the hell didn’t you stop me before we got in this deep?’
‘This deep—what deep?’ She turned to challenge him with a deriding look. ‘We haven’t done anything but share a fumbled kiss on a rainy night!’
The Ultimate Betrayal Page 11