Ashleigh felt like rolling her eyes. The one sticking point in her relationship with Howard, apart from his deeply ingrained conservatism, was his mother. No matter how hard she tried, she just did not like Marguerite Caule.
‘I need to spend time with Lachlan,’ she said carefully, removing her hands from his hold. ‘He’s been missing me lately.’
‘Bring him with you,’ Howard suggested. ‘You know how much my mother enjoys seeing him.’
Seeing him, but not hearing him, Ashleigh added under her breath. Marguerite was definitely from the old school of child-rearing: children were to be seen not heard, and if it could possibly be avoided without direct insult, not interacted with at all.
‘Maybe some other time,’ she said, avoiding his pleading look. ‘I have a lot on my mind just now.’
She heard him sigh.
‘Is this all too much for you?’ he asked. ‘Do you want me to call Jake Marriott and pull out on the deal? I know it’s a lot of money but if you aren’t up to it then I won’t force you.’
Ashleigh turned to look at him, privately moved by his concern. He was such a lovely person, no hint of malice about him. He loved Lachlan and he loved her.
Why, oh, why, couldn’t she love him in return?
He had so much to lose on this. His business hung in the balance. It was up to her to save it. She couldn’t walk away from Jake’s deal without hurting Howard, and hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do.
Besides, it was a lot of money to throw away. How could she live with herself if she turned her back on Jake’s offer, no matter what motive had precipitated it?
‘No…’ She picked up her bag and keys resignedly. ‘I’m going to see this through. I think Jake is right.’ She gave a rough-edged sigh. ‘I need closure.’
‘Good luck.’
She gave him a rueful look as she reached for the door. ‘Luck has been in short supply in my life. I hardly see it changing any time soon.’
‘Don’t worry, Ashleigh,’ Howard reassured her. ‘He’s given you the opportunity of a lifetime. Don’t let your past relationship with him get in the way of your future with me.’
Ashleigh found it hard to think of an answer. Instead she sent him a vague smile and left the showroom, somehow sensing that her future was always going to be inextricably linked with Jake.
Even if by some miracle he never found out about Lachlan.
The house and grounds were deserted when Ashleigh arrived. Jake’s car was nowhere in sight and, although most of the blinds at the windows hadn’t been pulled completely down, the house still gave off a deserted, abandoned look.
She walked up the cracked pathway to the front door, feeling as if she was stepping over an invisible barrier into the privacy of Jake’s past.
She rang the doorbell just in case, but there was no answer. She listened as the bell echoed down the hall like an aching cry of loneliness, the sound bouncing off the walls and coming back to her as if to taunt her. She put the key into the lock and turned it, the door opening under her hand with a groan of protest.
At least it didn’t smell as musty as before.
The movement of air in the hall indicated that Jake had left a window open and she couldn’t help a soft sigh of remembrance. Hadn’t he always insisted on sleeping with at least one window open, even when it had been freezing cold outside?
She wandered from room to room, taking a host of pictures with a digital camera, stopping occasionally to carefully document notes on the various pieces, her fingers flying over the notebook in her hand as she detailed the estimated date and value of each item.
As treasure troves went, this was one of the biggest she’d ever encountered. Priceless piece after priceless piece was noted on her list, her estimation growing by the minute. Howard’s business would be lifted out of trouble once these babies hit the showroom floor.
She lifted the hair out of the back of her top and rolled her stiff shoulders as she finished the first room. She glanced at her watch and saw it was now well after twelve. Two hours had gone past and still no sign of Jake.
Deciding to take a break, she left her notebook and pen on a side table and wandered through to the kitchen at the back of the house.
It wasn’t the sort of kitchen in which she felt comfortable. It was dark and old-fashioned, the appliances so out of date she wondered if they were still operational.
She picked up a lonesome cup that someone, she presumed Jake’s father, had left on the kitchen sink. It was heavily stained with the tannin of tea, the chipped edge seeming out of place in a house so full of wealth. She ran her fingertip over the rough edge thoughtfully, wondering what sort of man Jake’s father had been.
Ashleigh realised with a little jolt that she had never seen a picture of either of his parents, had never even been informed of their Christian names.
She thought of the stack of family albums her mother had lovingly put together. Every detail of family life was framed with openly adoring comments. There were shiny locks of hair and even tiny pearly baby teeth.
What had Jake’s parents looked like? She hadn’t a clue and yet their blood was surging through her son’s veins.
‘I’m sorry I’m so late,’ Jake said from just behind her.
Ashleigh swung around, surprise beating its startled wings inside her chest. ‘I wish you would stop doing that,’ she said, clutching at her leaping throat.
‘Do what?’ He looked at her blankly.
She lowered her hand and gave herself a mental shake. ‘You should announce your arrival a bit more audibly. I hate being sneaked up on like that.’
‘I did not sneak up on you,’ he said. ‘I called out to you three times but you didn’t answer.’
She bit her lip, wondering if what he said was true. It was certainly possible given that her thoughts had been located well in the past, but it still made her feel uncomfortable that he could slip through her firewall of defences undetected.
She put the cup she’d been holding down and turned away from his probing gaze. ‘I’ve almost finished assessing one room.’
‘And?’
Her eyes reluctantly came back to his. ‘Your father certainly knew what he was doing when it came to collecting antiques.’
He gave a humourless smile. ‘My father was an expert at many things.’
Again she sensed the wealth of information behind the coolly delivered statement.
‘Would it help to…to talk about it?’ she asked, somewhat tentatively.
His eyes hardened beneath his frowning brow. ‘About what?’
‘About your childhood.’
He swung away from her as if she’d slapped him. ‘No, not right now.’
She bit her lip, not sure if she should push him. A part of her wanted to. She ached to know what had made him the man he was, but another part of her warned her to let well alone. His barriers were up again. She could see it in the tense line of his jaw and the way his eyes moved away from hers as if he was determined to shut her out.
‘Which room would you like me to work on next?’ She opted for a complete change of subject.
He gave a dismissive shrug and shoved at a dirty plate on the work table in front of him as if it had personally offended him.
‘I don’t care. You choose.’
‘Which room was your bedroom?’ she asked before she could stop herself.
She saw the way his shoulders stiffened, the rigidity of his stance warning her she had come just a little too close for comfort.
‘I don’t want you to go in there,’ he said. ‘The door is locked and it will stay that way. Understood?’
She forced herself to hold his glittering glare. ‘If that’s what you want.’
He gave her one diamond-hard look and moved past her to leave the room. ‘I will be in the back garden. I have some digging to do.’
She sighed as the door snapped shut behind him.
What had she taken on?
It was well after thre
e p.m. when she decided she needed a break. She had nibbled on a few crackers she’d brought with her and had a glass of water earlier, but her eyes were watering from all the dust she’d disturbed as she itemised the contents of the largest formal room.
She went out the back door, her eyes automatically searching the garden for Jake as she sat down on one of the steps, stretching her legs out to catch the sun.
He was down in the far corner, his back and chest bare as he dug up the ground beneath the shade of the elm tree. She saw the way his toned muscles bunched with each strike of the spade in the resisting earth, the fine layer of perspiration making his skin gleam in the warm spring sunshine.
He stopped and, leaning on the spade, wiped a hand across his sweaty brow, his eyes suddenly catching sight of her watching him.
He straightened and, stabbing the spade into the ground, walked towards her, wiping his hands on the sides of his jeans.
From her seated position on the back step she had to crane her neck to look up at him. ‘That looks like hard work,’ she said. ‘Do you want me to get you a glass of water?’
He shook his head. ‘I drank from the tap a while ago.’
She lowered her gaze, then wished she hadn’t as she encountered the zipper of his jeans. She jerked upright off the step but her sandal caught in the old wire shoe-scraper and she pitched forwards.
Jake caught her easily, hauling her upright, his hands on her upper arms almost painfully firm.
‘Are you OK?’
‘I—I’m fine…’ She tried to ease herself out of his hold but he countered it with a subtle tightening of his fingers.
She had no choice but to meet his eyes. ‘You can let me go now, Jake.’
Tiny beads of perspiration were peppered over his upper lip, a dark smudge of soil slashed across the lean line of his jaw giving him an almost primitive look. Gone was the high-powered architect who had offices in several major cities of the world; in his place was a man who smelt of hard physical work and fitness, his chest so slick with sweat she wanted to press her mouth to his skin and taste his saltiness.
His hands dropped away from her and he stepped backwards. ‘I’ve made you dirty,’ he said without apology.
She glanced at each of her arms, her stomach doing a funny little tumble turn when she saw the full set of his earthy fingerprints on the creamy skin of her bare upper arms.
‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘At least I wasn’t wearing the jacket. I left it inside it was so…so hot…’
His eyes ran over her neat skirt and matching camisole and she wished she hadn’t spoken. She could feel the weight of his gaze as it took in her shadowed cleavage, a cleavage she hadn’t had four and a half years ago.
‘I’d better get back to work…’ she said, waving a hand at the house behind her, her feet searching blindly for the steps. ‘There’s still so…so much to do and I need to leave on time.’
‘If you want to leave early, that’s fine,’ he said, narrowing his eyes against the sun as he looked back over the garden. ‘I’m just about finished for the day myself.’
Ashleigh hovered on the first step. ‘What are you going to plant in that garden bed you’re digging?’
It seemed an age before his gaze turned back to meet hers, his eyes so dark and intense she felt the breath trip somewhere in the middle of her throat.
‘I’m not going to plant anything.’
A nervous hand fluttered up to her neck, her fingers holding the fine silver chain hanging there, her expression clouded with confusion. ‘Then what are you digging for?’
His mouth tilted into one of his humourless smiles.
‘Memories, Ashleigh,’ he said, his tone deep and husky. ‘I’m digging for memories.’
Ashleigh watched him, her eyes taking in the angles and planes of his face, wondering what was going on behind the screen of his inscrutable gaze.
He’d always been so adept at concealing his true feelings; it had both frustrated and fascinated her in the past. She knew his aloofness was part of what fed her lingering attraction for him. She felt ashamed of how she felt, especially given her commitment to Howard, but every time she was in Jake’s presence she felt the pull of something indefinable, as if he had set up a special radar to keep her tuned in to him, only him. She felt the waves of connection each time his gaze meshed with hers, the full charge zapping her whenever he touched her. His kiss had burnt her so much she was sure if it were to be repeated she would never have the strength to pull away. It wouldn’t matter how committed she was elsewhere, when Jake Marriott’s mouth came down on hers everyone else ceased to exist.
‘You’re breaking rule number three,’ Jake’s voice cut through her private rumination. ‘No looks, remember?’
She dragged her eyes away from the amused line of his mouth and met his eyes, her cheeks heating from the inside like a stoked furnace.
‘I wasn’t looking, I was thinking,’ she insisted.
‘One wonders what was going on in that pretty little head of yours to make you blush so delightfully,’ he mused.
‘I’m not blushing!’ She flung her hair back with a defiant toss of one hand. ‘It’s hot. You know how I can’t stand the heat. You always said I…’ She stopped speaking before she trawled up too many dangerous memories. She didn’t want him thinking she had stored away every single word he’d ever spoken to her.
‘I always said what?’
‘Nothing; I can’t remember.’ She carefully avoided his eyes. ‘It was all such a long time ago.’
‘Four years is not such a long time.’
‘Four and a half,’ she said, meeting his eyes with gritty determination. ‘Time to move on, don’t you think?’
‘That’s why we’re here,’ he said. ‘So we can both move on.’
‘Then let’s get on with it,’ she suggested and turned towards the house.
‘Ashleigh.’
She sent her eyes heavenward with a silent prayer for strength as she turned to look back at him. Because she was on the top step he was now at eye level. This close she could see the curling fringe of his sooty lashes, could even feel the movement of air against her lips when he let out a small breath. Her stomach muscles tightened, her legs going to water at his physical proximity. She had only to tilt her body a mere fraction and she would be touching him.
No touching, she reminded herself firmly.
Rule number one.
Her gaze dipped to the curve of his mouth and she mentally chanted rule number two, over and over again. No kissing, no kissing, no kissing, no—
‘I want to visit your family,’ Jake said, startling her out of her chant. ‘I was thinking about coming over this evening.’
‘What?’ She choked. ‘W-whatever for?’
He gave her a long studied look, taking in her flustered features and fluttering nervous hands.
Ashleigh fought her panic under some semblance of control as her mind whirled with a list of possible excuses for putting him off. She straightened her shoulders, controlled her hands by tying them together and forced herself to meet his eyes.
‘We’re all busy,’ she said. ‘No one’s going to be home.’
‘Tomorrow will do just as well.’
‘That’s no good either,’ she said quickly—far too quickly.
He gave her a sceptical look. ‘What happened to the happy-to-be-at-home-altogether-every-night Forrester family? I thought your family’s idea of a big night out was once a month to the cinema.’
She set her mouth, knowing he was mocking the stable security of her family. ‘My parents have regular evenings out and so do my sisters,’ she said, not bothering to hide the defensiveness in her tone. ‘Anyway, I will be out with Howard.’
‘I don’t need you to be there,’ he said.
No, but if he were to see even a single toy of Lachlan’s lying about the house he would begin to ask questions she wasn’t prepared to answer. Not to mention all the photographs arranged on just about every sur
face and wall by her overly sentimental mother. She’d been lucky the first time when he’d called in unexpectedly but she could hardly strip the house of everything with Lachlan’s name or face on it.
‘All the same, I don’t think it’s such a good idea.’ She bit her lip momentarily as she hunted her brain for a reasonable excuse. ‘My parents are…very loyal and since we… I mean…you and I parted on such bitter terms they might not be all that open to seeing you now.’
‘Your mother was fine with me the other day,’ he said. ‘Admittedly she didn’t ask me in for tea and scones, but she was openly friendly and interested in how I was doing.’
I will throttle you, Mum, for being so damned nice all the time, she silently vowed.
‘I don’t think Howard would like the thought of you fraternising with my family,’ she put in desperately.
The cynical smirk reappeared at the mention of her fiancé’s name.
‘We don’t have to tell Howard,’ he said, adding conspiratorially with the wink of one dark glittering eye, ‘it can be our little secret.’
Ashleigh was already sick to death of secrets, her one and only one had caused enough anguish to last a lifetime. She felt as if her heart hadn’t had a normal rhythm in days and even now her head was constantly pounding with the tension of trying to avoid a vocal slip in Jake’s presence.
‘I’d rather not do anything behind Howard’s back,’ she said.
‘Good little Ashleigh,’ he drawled with unmistakable mockery.
She ground her teeth and wished she could slap that insolent look off his face, but she knew if she did all three rules would end up being broken right there and then where they stood on the back door steps.
She straightened her spine, speaking through tight lips. ‘I’ll arrange a meeting for you with my family on neutral ground. A restaurant or something like that some time next week or the one after.’
He inclined his head at her in a gesture of old-world politeness. ‘If you insist.’
‘I do.’
‘Why don’t you and Howard join the party?’ he suggested.
‘I don’t think so.’
He gave a soft chuckle of laughter. ‘Why? Would he be frightened he might have to foot the bill?’
The Secret Baby Bargain Page 6