Marriage Without Love & More Than a Convenient Marriage?

by Penny Jordan

  He looked almost ready to burst into tears, and Briony had to suppress a wave of irritation. No wonder Mary was able to bully him so easily—his apathetic lack of self-confidence was enough to drive a saint mad.

  ‘Look, you must explain to her how busy you are,’ Briony told him. ‘Either that or find yourself a job that will be less taxing.’

  ‘You think like she does, don’t you?’ he accused bitterly. ‘You’ve changed, Briony. You used to understand, but now you’re just like all the others. Perhaps I ought to act more like Kieron,’ he said wildly, grabbing hold of her before she could stop him. ‘Perhaps I ought to just take what I want.’

  ‘Matt, let me go at once!’ Briony demanded, more cross than frightened. ‘Don’t be silly. I haven’t changed at all. I just think that now you and Mary are back together you ought to try and make the best of it.’

  She sensed that the anger had gone out of him, but instead of releasing her, he bowed his head on her shoulder, his voice thick with tears. ‘Oh God, Briony, I’m sorry.’

  ‘You will be, if you don’t get out of here right now,’ Kieron said icily from the door. As Matt stepped awkwardly back Kieron’s eyes moved slowly over Briony’s thinly clad body, missing nothing, his face rigid with an anger that made her stomach churn in protesting fear.

  Matt stumbled towards the door after one look at Kieron’s set face, his eyes sliding uncomfortably away from Briony’s as she willed him to explain what had happened.

  ‘And if you so much as set one foot here again, I’ll personally tear you limb from limb!’ Kieron warned him harshly opening the door.

  When Matt had gone, the silence in the kitchen seemed to stretch like taut wire, and only when they heard his car engine fire did Kieron look contemptuously at the empty tea-cups and drawl sardonically:

  ‘I’ve heard of people enjoying a cigarette afterwards, but tea? Typical of Matt, though. Is that really what you like, or is it just that with Matt you feel safe because you’re the boss?’

  When Briony didn’t speak he gritted at her, ‘My God, what are you trying to do? Prove to me that I’m not the only man who can father a child on you? Well, if that’s the case, I’d better make sure that we’ll never know who is responsible for the second one!’

  He reached for her before she could stop him, palms flat against the wall, trapping her against it, his eyes shredding her defences.

  ‘Kieron, you don’t understand. Matt.…’ she protested, but he wasn’t listening, his eyes curiously blind as he picked her up and moved determinedly towards the stairs, ruthlessly pinioning her wrists as she attempted to struggle free.

  ‘I don’t want to know,’ he said thickly as they reached the landing. Her bedroom was closest and he kicked open the door, dropping her on the bed and pinning her there with the full weight of his body, one hand coolly parting her robe while the other held her flailing arms captive.

  ‘Does he look at you like this?’ he demanded huskily, his eyes drinking in the sight of her pale flesh. ‘God, I’d almost forgotten!’ The words died away as he bent and unerringly found the small mole beneath her breast. Her heart pounded frantically at the touch of his lips, small panting sobs torn from her throat as he moved upwards caressing the swelling flesh above the mole, his tongue tormenting the hardening nipple until she was ready to scream with frustration, the effort of lying completely still beneath the tantalising assault draining every last ounce of self-control, the sight of Kieron’s dark head, where Nicky’s had so often rested, sending slow waves of treacherous pleasure washing over her.

  ‘Did his caresses arouse you?’ Kieron muttered hoarsely. ‘Or were you as cold with him as you are with me? I’m not cold, Briony, I’m burning up with wanting you. Can’t you feel it?’ He released her hands and placed one of them against the heated, damp flesh of his chest, groaning when her fingers trembled against his skin. His mouth fastened on her breast in possession and she was overwhelmed with an urge to stroke the dark hair, burying her fingers in its silky warmth, her flesh melting with the exquisite pain of his touch. He looked up at her suddenly, his skin flushed and damp, and it was too late to veil the betraying expression in her own eyes.

  ‘Oh, God, Briony!’

  His mouth burned against her, tasting every inch of her skin, his hands urging hers against his body as he shrugged out of his shirt and trousers, the hard warmth of his thigh, shadowed with dark, silky hairs, shockingly masculine as it forced hers to part.

  The blood was drumming in her ears, her head thrown back against the pillows, her body shuddering convulsively as his lips grazed her throat, feathering tiny, tormenting kisses from jaw to lips which parted on a soft moan to plead his possession.

  The first time she heard Nicky cry it didn’t register, and it was only when Kieron went still that she realised what the sound was.

  ‘Nicky,’ she said in a voice that trembled unsteadily, completely unable to meet Kieron’s eyes. What on earth had possessed her? She could think of no logical or valid excuse for her behaviour. It seemed that Kieron merely had to touch her to have her acting completely out of character.

  ‘You’d better go to him,’ he told her coolly. ‘Weren’t you lucky? Another few seconds and it would have been too late.’

  She hated the way he lay watching her as she pulled on her robe, and keeping her back to him she said fiercely:

  ‘Matt only came to talk to me. We didn’t.…’

  ‘You didn’t what?’ he jeered. ‘Make love? Do you think I don’t know that? You might be able to freeze out your mind, Briony, but your body is in revolt. It wanted me, even if you don’t.’

  ‘I’m not Gail!’ she flung at him, sliding off the bed, crying with fear as his fingers fastened round her wrist, jerking her back.

  ‘And just what does that mean?’ he demanded dangerously.

  ‘Exactly what you thought.’ She refused to be intimidated. ‘I rang the flat the other night and Gail answered.’

  ‘And my puritan of a wife immediately leapt to the conclusion that because we were in the flat we must also be in bed. You couldn’t be more wrong. Gail had come to see me about a problem she’s been having at work, that’s all.’

  He released her smoothly, and Briony was sure she glimpsed satisfaction beneath the smile he gave her.

  By the time she had comforted Nicky, who had been having a bad dream, Kieron was back downstairs, lounging in the kitchen as though nothing at all untoward had occurred.

  ‘Fancy sunbathing?’ he invited lazily. ‘With your skin it might be as well if you got used to the sun a little in readiness.’

  ‘In readiness for what?’ Briony demanded sharply, annoyed with herself for letting him force her into a reaction.

  ‘Didn’t I tell you? That’s why I’ve been working so hard lately, so that we can have a proper holiday.’

  ‘I’m not going away with you,’ she announced instantly. ‘Go on your own, or take Gail with you.’

  To her chagrin he shook with laughter.

  ‘Oh, I don’t think I could do that. You see, we’re going to stay with my godmother, and I’ve already told her that my wife’s a redhead. Of course, Nicky and I can always go alone.’

  ‘You can’t!’

  ‘Try me,’ he invited softly. ‘Nicky and I are going whether you go or not. All the arrangements are made. I’ve booked the ferry. We leave next Wednesday.’

  ‘The ferry? Where does your godmother live?’

  ‘Oh, didn’t I tell you? I must have had other things on my mind,’ he taunted smoothly. ‘She lives in France near St Jean Cap Ferrat. She has a small villa there with its own private beach. Nicky will love it.’ There was a world of meaning in those last few words, and Briony knew that he intended to take Nicky to France whether she went with them or not.

  ‘Well, are you coming with us?’

  ‘I’m certainly not letting you take Nicky on your own!’

  ‘How gracefully you give in!’ he mocked. ‘Will you need to buy anything? I was g
oing to suggest I arranged for Mrs Johnson to look after Nicky on Monday.’

  ‘You think of everything, don’t you?’ Briony said savagely. There seemed to be no part of her life he hadn’t taken over and she resented it bitterly. Not content with taking her son, he seemed to want to dominate her life as well.

  ‘I try,’ he agreed. ‘Although I have been known to be defeated, if it brings you any comfort.’

  With that enigmatic comment he strolled out into the garden, unbuttoning his shirt and dropping it carelessly on the lawn before stretching himself out in the sun. His torso was powerfully built and muscular, his stomach flat and taut. As she watched him awareness crept gradually over her and she had to turn away, trembling with fear at the discovery she had just made. She still loved him! Her body had known it long before her mind, hence its immediate reaction to him. But whatever happened he must never find out. That would be the crowning humiliation. She stuffed a fist in her mouth to prevent herself from screaming. Dear God, how was she to endure the rest of her life as his wife and yet still maintain the fiction that she hated him, especially if he continued in his present vein? She could never endure his full possession without betraying herself. Merely the thought of it turned her bones weak to the marrow with intense longing. What she must do was to maintain as great a distance between then as possible. She must never, never again allow a repetition of this afternoon’s events. If Nicky had not cried when he did there could have been only one outcome, and her cheeks burned with shame as she recalled Kieron’s mocking accusations to the same effect.

  She went upstairs to wake Nicky, dressing him in a tee-shirt and shorts, his chubby brown limbs melting her heart with tenderness. When they got downstairs she sent him outside to Kieron, trying not to feel racked with envy and shut out as Kieron reached out a hand to encircle his son and pull him down beside him, the two dark heads achingly similar as Nicky curled up trustingly within the protection of his father’s arm.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ‘WE’LL stop soon and have something to eat.’

  Briony nodded. They were driving through Northern France, along a straight, fast road bordered with poplar trees, which seemed to go on for ever. Nicky had fallen asleep in his car seat and after the little boy’s chatter had faded away a deep silence had filled the car.

  Briony hadn’t wanted to come away on this holiday. She could see no good coming out of it—and potentially a lot of danger. Since she had made the discovery that she was still in love with Kieron she had been filled with a terrible fear that somehow he might find out, and the effort of trying to appear cool and unaware of him had already seriously depleted her small reserves of self-control. It was as though after years of being subordinate to her mind, her body had finally thrown off its yoke, making its own needs and desires all too plain.

  They had been driving since early morning and Briony was glad of the opportunity to stretch her legs when they eventually stopped for lunch in a small French town. Although she didn’t want to admit it, it was a relief to let Kieron take charge, finding them somewhere to eat, and informing the waiter in crisp French that they would need something plain and simple for Nicky.

  They were shown to a patio shaded by wisteria, its grey gnarled trunk and branches spread flat against the whitewashed wall of the restaurant, a small river flowing placidly on its way to the sea several yards away.

  Briony even felt too tired to study the menu, and simply passed it over to Kieron with a listless shake of her head. ‘You choose.’

  He frowned and for a moment she thought she saw concern in his eyes. No doubt he was wondering how on earth he was going to cope with Nicky if she became ill, she thought sardonically. The little boy had been very good, but inevitably the long drive had bored and irritated him.

  As she drank the cold soup Kieron had ordered she wondered what his godmother would be like. Kieron had said very little about her except that he always tried to spend some time each year with her, and that she was now a widow, and lived permanently in the South of France. Briony had visions of a lilac-coiffured dowager, immaculately made up and dressed in chic French clothes, and already she was dreading meeting her.

  ‘Finish your soup,’ Kieron instructed, breaking into her thoughts. She stared uncomprehendingly at him, unaware that she had pushed the bowl away barely touched. ‘You’re too thin,’ he added. ‘Héloise will have forty fits when she sees you.’

  ‘Héloise?’

  ‘My godmother’s cook, maid, confidante, and friend,’ he told her. ‘They’ve been together since Tante Marian was first married.’

  ‘I hope we’re not going to be too much trouble.’ Her forehead puckered as she thought of Nicky’s noisy and demanding intrusion into the organised, restful world of two middle-aged ladies.

  ‘We won’t, unless Héloise accuses me of starving you,’ he said dryly. ‘And a little less of the martyred air might help, if you could possibly manage it.’

  Briony finished her meal in silence. Kieron had the knack of making her feel like a sulky child, deliberately playing up to gain adult attention and sympathy. Even in the shadowed patio the sun was hot and she glanced automatically at Nicky’s bare head. He had Kieron’s skin colouring and took the sun well, but she had taken the precaution of buying him a couple of sun-hats, plus some thin long-sleeved tee-shirts just in case he was in danger of getting burned. Her own skin was more of a problem. Her long days in the cottage garden had given it a faint hint of colour, but it was liable to burn badly if she wasn’t careful.

  As though he had read her thoughts, Kieron said abruptly, ‘Come and sit over here in the shade. You look pale, and I don’t want you getting sunstroke.’

  ‘I’m not a child,’ she protested, but his eyes were scathing, the dark brows drawn upwards in disbelief as he glanced at her barely touched food.

  ‘No? You deliberately drive yourself almost to the point of exhaustion; you refuse to eat properly, and then you sit outside in the full heat of the midday sun.’

  ‘I shan’t be ill,’ she told him. ‘I can’t be. Who would look after Nicky?’

  ‘Finish your lunch,’ he told her abruptly. He looked angry, and Briony wondered if it was finally coming home to him exactly how taxing the responsibility of a child could be.

  They drove all through the afternoon, stopping eventually in Avignon, where they were to spend the night.

  Briony was too tired to appreciate the bustling town. Why was it, she wondered hazily, that simply sitting still all day doing nothing could be exhausting? She stole a look at Kieron, who was lifting Nicky out of the car. Although he had done all the driving it barely seemed to have affected him. His thin shirt clung to the powerful muscles of his back, the short sleeves revealing the bronzed forearms, the lean, male length of his legs moulded by close-fitting jeans. Briony was dressed very similarly, but whereas Kieron’s shirt and jeans were moulded to a body undeniably male, Briony’s snug-fitting cotton top and denims revealed softly feminine curves which drew more than one admiring pair of male eyes as they crossed the street in front of some boules players and entered the hotel.

  Kieron had booked two rooms, at Briony’s insistence. ‘What are you afraid of?’ he had taunted, and she dared not tell him it was herself. If they were to share a bed, no matter how platonically, she had no safeguard against herself turning unconsciously to Kieron during the night, and perhaps betraying herself completely.

  Both rooms had double beds, and bathrooms, and she took Nicky into one of them, leaving Kieron in possession of the other. She had undressed Nicky before she realised that the overnight case she had packed for them was in Kieron’s room, and having knocked on his door and received no answer, she assumed that he must have gone downstairs for something and pushed open the door.

  The case was by the bed and she was just bending to pick it up when the bathroom door suddenly opened and Kieron emerged. His hair was damp and tousled, droplets of moisture clinging to his skin, and Briony felt herself flush darkly as she
stared at his naked body. It seemed a lifetime before she could drag her eyes away. Her whole body felt weak and shaky, her mouth dry with tension, and it didn’t help her composure one jot to hear Kieron laugh mockingly, his voice taunting as he drawled softly, ‘Okay, you can look now without seeing anything that might shock your frigid little mind.’

  He was wearing a brief towelling robe, but that didn’t stop her imagination playing back to her exactly what was underneath it, and her body ached to touch his golden skin; to feel the powerful drive of his maleness against her.… She drew a ragged, shuddering breath, and pointed to the case.

  ‘I came for this.…’

  ‘What else?’ he mocked. ‘But let’s get one thing straight, Briony. When we get to my godmother’s we shall be sharing the same room. As far as she’s concerned, this is a normal, happy marriage, and that normality includes things like sharing a bedroom.’

  She stared at him, appalled.

  ‘But we can’t!’

  He shrugged dismissively. ‘Why not? I never said anything about this marriage being in name only. It won’t kill you.’

  She thought of how she felt about him, and how impossible it would be to share his bed and appear indifferent, and said bitterly, ‘Won’t it?’

  He reached for her, his thumbs stroking her throat, her body pressed against the damp warmth of his.

  ‘We’re married,’ he said softly, ‘and I don’t intend to spend the rest of my life like a monk. Think of Nicky. Surely you aren’t going to deprive him of the pleasure of brothers and sisters?’

  Briony wavered, tormented against her will by the soft seduction he was weaving. It would be so easy to give in, to spread her fingers out against the hard warmth of his skin and give herself up to the thundering demand of her own body. Lost in indecision, she let Kieron tilt her head back and touch his lips to her throat in a coaxing caress, closing her eyes and letting herself be sucked down into a dark whirlpool of delight, her lips parting in heated anticipation.

  ‘What are you doing with my mummy?’