Trust in Summer Madness

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Trust in Summer Madness Page 8

by Carole Mortimer


  ‘I can’t answer it, Dad,’ she sighed. ‘I’ve spoken to Jarrett, that much must be obvious. It’s also obvious that he’s seeing Bethany.’

  ‘Do you mind?’

  The colour ebbed from her face as rapidly as it had entered. ‘I have no right to mind. I have to go and change, Dad,’ she added firmly. ‘Chris will be here soon.’

  ‘I wish the man had never come back,’ her father mumbled. ‘He was always trouble, I have no reason to suppose he’ll be any different this time.’

  ‘He has business here, Dad,’ she reasoned.

  ‘Mm,’ he looked sceptical. ‘So Bethany told me. I just hope he concludes his business quickly and leaves.’

  ‘I’m sure he will,’ she soothed. ‘After all, Swannell wasn’t big enough to hold him before. Now that he knows the sophistication of New York it must hold even less appeal. Don’t worry, Dad, I’m sure he’ll be gone soon.’

  ‘I hope so.’

  Sian mentally echoed those sentiments as she changed for her date with Chris. Maybe when Jarrett had gone she could settle down to a life of normality once again. Maybe…

  Chris arrived back in plenty of time to go and see the vicar; the dog he had been called out to attend was not as badly injured as had been implied. Sian felt her betrayal of this trusting man even more strongly as she listened to the vicar talk to them, the pitfalls of marriage seeming to apply to her even before she was married.

  But she wanted to be a good wife to Chris, wanted to forget about Jarrett. She deeply regretted her lapse of this afternoon. Lapse? It had been a landslide!

  ‘You’re very preoccupied tonight, darling,’ Chris frowned as they drove back to her home.

  ‘Just tired,’ she dismissed lightly.

  ‘It isn’t my bad temper of this morning, is it?’ he queried ruefully. ‘I was thinking of Jarrett King last night, and—well, I suppose I was jealous,’ he grimaced. ‘The man seems to have everything. Look at the way Bethany has fallen for him.’

  Sian shrugged, tired of everyone talking about Jarrett when she just wanted to forget about him. ‘Bethany is very impressionable,’ she excused. ‘She’ll soon get over it.’

  ‘Did you talk to her?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’ She frowned at him. ‘Does it really matter to you that she’s seeing him?’

  ‘She’s going to be my sister,’ he pointed out moodily.

  ‘Of course. Coming in for coffee?’ she offered as they parked outside her home.

  ‘Why not?’ he shrugged. ‘Oh, by the way, Mum wants you to go over on Saturday. Something to do with the cake, I think,’ he dismissed vaguely.

  Sian nodded. ‘I’ll go over after morning surgery.’ In the absence of her own mother Sara Newman had been a great help in organising the wedding, even down to making the three-tier wedding cake herself. ‘It’s probably something to do with the icing of it.’

  ‘I think so,’ Chris agreed. ‘I never realised a wedding took so much organising.’ He followed her into the kitchen, watching her as she made the coffee.

  Sian smiled. ‘All you have to do is turn up on the day.’

  ‘Oh, I will,’ he nodded firmly. ‘I wouldn’t let you down,’ he added grimly.

  She paled at his vehemence, her hands shaking as she put the cups in their saucers, her eyes suddenly huge, more green than brown.

  ‘God, I’m sorry!’ Chris took her in his arms. ‘That was thoughtless of me. Forgive me, Sian.’ He looked down at her pleadingly.

  ‘Of course,’ she choked, holding on to him tightly, badly needing his reassurance that he loved and needed her—because she needed him so badly at the moment, more than she ever had.

  ‘Darling…!’ His mouth claimed hers, his lips gentle, his arms strong and protective.

  ‘It would seem we’ve come in at an inopportune moment!’ rasped a glacial voice.

  Sian would have sprung guiltily away from Chris like a criminal caught in the act if he hadn’t kept her firmly at his side, his arm like a steel band about her waist. She looked over at Jarrett with widely disturbed eyes, seeing the accusation in his face, the harsh slash of his mouth, the blazing anger in eyes as cold as emeralds.

  ‘Forget the coffee,’ Jarrett told Bethany abruptly. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He turned on his heel, Bethany almost running to keep up with him as he went back to the front door.

  ‘Arrogant swine,’ Chris muttered. ‘Why shouldn’t I kiss you goodnight?’

  Jarrett hadn’t just been angry, he had been furious, so much so that she knew if he hadn’t left when he did he might have resorted to violence, that threat to physically harm Chris rapidly boiling to the surface.

  ‘I’d better go too,’ Chris told her regretfully. ‘It’s late.’

  ‘But your coffee…’ she reminded him weakly, trembling all over from the fierceness in Jarrett’s face.

  ‘I’ll take a rain-check,’ he said abruptly, kissing her on the forehead. ‘Get to bed, darling. It’s going to be another long day tomorrow.’

  Every day would be long until Jarrett had left Swannell for good. He had acted like a jealous lover just now—and wasn’t that what he was? He was her lover now as he had been three years ago, had warned her he wasn’t going to stand back and watch her marry Chris. The fact that he had walked out tonight instead of hitting Chris was to his credit; he had never been known in the past for keeping a tight rein on his temper.

  By the time Bethany came back into the house, a long ten minutes later, Sian was already in bed, her face blanching as she saw the way her sister’s lipgloss was slightly smudged, the starry look in her eyes. Bethany had been thoroughly kissed in the last ten minutes!

  ‘Oh, he’s wonderful!’ She leant weakly back against the wall, staring dreamily into space.

  Sian felt sick at Jarrett’s method of retribution at finding her in Chris’s arms; she knew by his threats earlier today that he was punishing her through Bethany. It was cruel, cruel and barbaric, like the man himself.

  ‘Don’t get too fond of him,’ she warned her sister. ‘Jarrett never stays in one place for long.’

  ‘He is this time,’ Bethany told her happily. ‘He’s having a house built here.’

  ‘He’s what?’ Sian swallowed hard in her shock.

  Her sister gave an ecstatic sigh. ‘Jarrett owns some land just outside of town. He told me he’s going to build his house there. Isn’t that wonderful?’

  ‘Wonderful,’ Sian echoed weakly, knowing that now there would be no escaping Jarrett. Ever.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  SHE knew exactly where he was going to build his house, knew it, and dreaded it. He had no right to built there. It was their spot, their own private place.

  She borrowed her father’s car after surgery on Saturday morning, intending to drive over and see Chris’s mother. But somehow the car seemed to have a will of its own, driving towards the river, to the place where the weeping willow stood. Sian got out of the car to stand on an elevated position overlooking the fast-flowing water, open countryside every way she looked, the small town of Swannell behind her over the hill. It was a perfect place for a house.

  ‘Sian.’

  She turned slowly, feeling no surprise at Jarrett’s presence here, half expecting he would join her. It had been inevitable.

  She hadn’t seen him for two days, although she knew Bethany was still seeing him in the evenings; her sister was as bedazzled as ever by him—much to the worry of their father. Sian knew that she could stop that worry at any time—but at what cost to herself?

  Jarrett looked tired, as if he were already weary of the cruel and merciless game he was playing. His over-long fair hair gleamed golden in the sunlight, as did the hair on his arms and chest. His short-sleeved shirt was chocolate brown, unbuttoned at his throat, his denims old and faded as they rested low down on his lean hips.

  But his blatant attraction meant nothing to Sian today, her pain was too deep-felt.

  ‘I knew you would come here.’ His voice was husky, hi
s gaze intent. ‘I knew that eventually you would have to. Bethany told you about the house?’ he continued at her silence.

  Sian could only look at him, speech impossible. Once she had thought she knew this man, now she realised she had barely touched the surface of the complexities that made up his barbaric nature. He knew what this was doing to her, he had to!

  ‘You remember the house, Sian?’ he added harshly as she continued to look at him reproachfully. ‘A beautiful colonial-style house, with tall gleaming pillars, vines growing over the walls. An orchard there,’ he pointed to one side of the site, ‘a swimming-pool there,’ he pointed to the other side. ‘And the inside of the house will be everything a woman could ever dream of. Two beautiful reception rooms, a huge dining-room, a smaller dining-room for more intimate meals, a pine fitted kitchen. And upstairs there’ll be six bedrooms—’

  ‘No!’ she protested in an agonised voice, not wanting to hear any more.

  ‘—one for us,’ Jarrett continued in a steely voice, his gaze unwavering on her tormented face. ‘One for guests. And the other four for the children we’re going to have.’

  ‘No!’ she flung away from him. ‘No…’ she repeated weakly, her face buried in her hands.

  ‘Yes, Sian,’ he spoke softly behind her. ‘It’s our house, Sian, the way we always planned it. Only now I have more than enough money to make it more than just a dream.’ He spun her round to face him. ‘Come and live in that house with me, darling,’ his voice was husky. ‘It’s our house, yours and mine.’

  Yes, it was their house, the house they had once dreamt of putting here one day as they made love beneath the willow, lying in each other’s arms as they planned their future together.

  ‘A farmer owns this land,’ she remembered dazedly.

  ‘Not any more,’ Jarrett told her with satisfaction.

  She blinked. ‘But when you asked him before he said he would never sell!’

  Jarrett’s mouth twisted. ‘Everyone has their price,’ he shrugged.

  Sian’s expression was bitter. ‘Almost everyone,’ she snapped.

  He eyed her mockingly. ‘But not you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘You still intend to marry Newman?’

  ‘Yes.’

  Jarrett shook his head. ‘It will never happen, Sian. When I saw him kissing you the other night it was enough to make me want to tear him apart, limb from limb,’ he told her savagely.

  ‘Chris would have fought back,’ she told him haughtily. ‘He’s very strong.’

  He nodded grimly. ‘I have no doubt he is. And in any other circumstances I could probably like him. But not when I know that each night he’s kissing you, touching you,’ his voice hardened harshly. ‘If I hadn’t left when I had, Sian, he would have been nursing some nasty injuries now. You see, I had murderous rage on my side.’

  She had known that, had seen it, but it made no difference to her contempt for him. ‘Now you have a taste of how I felt when I saw you kissing Nina Marshall,’ she scorned.

  ‘I wasn’t going to marry her!’

  ‘A pity you didn’t tell her that,’ Sian bit out tautly.

  Jarrett’s eyes narrowed to icy slits. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter,’ she dismissed wearily. ‘None of that matters any more. You’re really going to build your house here?’

  He nodded grimly. ‘Exactly as we planned it.’

  Sian looked up at him with dull hazel eyes. ‘I’ll never live in it with you.’

  ‘Oh yes, you will,’ he said confidently.

  She felt a familiar shiver of apprehension down her spine. ‘Jarrett—’

  ‘I love you, Sian.’ He pulled her remorselessly towards him, steadily holding her gaze with his. ‘The house will be built exactly as we always planned it,’ he murmured into her hair. ‘And you’ll live in it with me, share my bed With me, always be beside me.’

  She was weakening again, being seduced by his words and the warmth of his body against hers, her face raised to his as his head slowly lowered and his mouth possessed hers.

  ‘I love you, Sian. I love you!’ he murmured into her throat minutes later. ‘Tell me you love me too.’

  Her head was spinning from the warm caress of his lips, her body pulsating with a desire she had no control over, fully under the command of Jarrett’s body as he lowered her down on to the grass beneath their feet. And yet she couldn’t say those words.

  ‘Tell me!’ he urged roughly at her silence.

  ‘I—No!’ She flung away from him, her face contorted in misery.

  ‘Tell me, damn it!’ He wrenched her chin round. ‘Tell me!’ His fingers bit into her arms as he pinned her to the ground.

  She swallowed hard, looking up at him with wide frightened eyes. ‘Jarrett, please—’

  ‘Please!’ he rasped furiously. ‘You belong to me, Sian,’ he shook her. ‘You always have. Do I have to brand you as mine?’ he added grimly.

  She flinched as she knew what form his ‘branding’ would take, terrified of the cold glitter in his eyes. ‘You would have to force me,’ she choked.

  ‘But not for long,’ he derided harshly.

  Already her body was betraying her, that liquid fire coursing through her veins, a familiar ache in her thighs. She shook her head, holding herself away from him. ‘I don’t know you like this,’ she gasped her distress. ‘You—you’re frightening me!’

  If anything Jarrett looked angrier. ‘I’m what you made me, Sian, you with your distrust, your coldness when I tried to explain to you. I might have left you three years ago, Sian, but you had already ruined me for other women. I tried to obliterate you from my senses—’

  ‘With other women?’ Her eyes blazed.

  ‘Yes!’ he confirmed fiercely. ‘But I just used to imagine they were you! I can’t begin to tell you how many women have had your face over the last three years. In the end I gave up even trying,’ he revealed bitterly. ‘No substitute could give me what you can, what you always have. I need you for my sanity, Sian. And I’m going to have you.’

  ‘You told me there had been no other women while you were in America,’ she reminded him contemptuously. ‘You always were a liar, Jarrett.’ She looked up at him fearlessly now, her moment of madness over in the face of his deceit.

  His eyes were lit by a blazing fury, his nostrils flaring, his mouth a thin taut line, his fingers biting cruelly into her arms. ‘I’ve never lied to you, Sian,’ his voice was dangerously soft. ‘There were no “other” women—they were all you, every damned one of them. And they knew that,’ he breathed raggedly. ‘They knew they were just a vessel of desire for me, that in the morning I wouldn’t even recognise them. And I rarely did.’ He closed his eyes in self-disgust. ‘I’ve made love to you again and again the last three years, and if you’re honest with yourself you’ll admit that you sometimes imagine Newman is me. Don’t you?’ he taunted as he saw the guilty colour in her cheeks.

  How could she deny it? She had never done it before, never until the night of Jarrett’s return. But that night, that night… Yes, it had been impossible for her to do anything else that night.

  ‘You don’t deny it, so I know you do,’ Jarrett derided. ‘You can’t marry him and pretend you’re making love with someone else. It doesn’t work, Sian. Believe me, I’ve tried it. Only the real thing will do. And you’ll eventually destroy Newman if you go through with marrying him,’ he warned huskily.

  She was beginning to believe that, although she didn’t want to, she intended fighting this weakness. She could be a good wife to Chris, if only Jarrett would go away.

  She moved completely away from him now, getting slowly to her feet, brushing down her denims. ‘I have to go.’ She sounded preoccupied, her thoughts troubled.

  ‘Where?’ Jarrett stood up to gently remove a leaf from her hair, his fingers lightly caressing her cheek. ‘Maybe I could come with you.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Her mouth twisted derisively.

>   His expression darkened with interest. ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’m on my way to see my future mother-in-law.’

  ‘Damn you!’ he swore forcefully, swinging away from her, his hands thrust into the pockets of his denims. ‘You’ll never escape me,’ he muttered.

  Sian wished they could stop hurting each other, but just because he made her confused and troubled about marrying Chris it didn’t mean she was going to fall into Jarrett’s arms. He was no good for her. Oh, he made her feel wonderfully alive while she was in his arms, but once she was away from him the doubts set in. Jarrett couldn’t be trusted to be faithful to any woman, he never would be.

  ‘I have to go.’ She turned abruptly, walking quickly to her father’s car.

  As she slid in behind the wheel she couldn’t help looking over at Jarrett. He hadn’t moved, but stood staring towards the willow, hunched over, deep in thought, his expression bleak.

  Sian reversed down the lane with undue haste, turning the car in a gateway, driving more slowly over the rutted dirt lane until she reached the main road. As she turned the Escort on to the macadamed road she became conscious of the front of the powerful Porsche in her driving mirror, the car looking almost predatory as Jarrett drove it only a couple of feet behind her.

  As she continued to drive she knew he was following her, turning the Porsche to the right if she turned to the right, turning to the left if she turned to the left. He didn’t believe she was going to see Chris’s mother!

  Her mouth set rebelliously. Damn him! She accelerated the Escort into town, deliberately driving to the house Chris shared with his parents, parking in the driveway behind Mr Newman’s Cortina, turning in her seat as the Porsche purred slowly down the street past the house, doing a U-turn at the end of the cul-de-sac and driving back with speed. Jarrett’s expression was stormy as he turned to glare at her.

  ‘Are you going to sit there all day?’

  Sian turned to look into the questioning face of Sara Newman. The other woman was an attractive fifty, her dark hair professionally styled, her figure still young and attractive. Both her children took after her in looks, getting their easygoing natures from their father.

 

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