by Fiona Harper
Why was he here? Why now?
Scalding anger spiralled up inside her. What gave him the right to come and capsize her life again? What more could he possibly want from her that he hadn’t already taken?
As they reached the foyer, she could see it was virtually empty, populated only by a couple of tired-looking hotel employees and a guest she didn’t recognize. Once they were through the double doors, she headed into a quiet nook, just under the shelter of the grand staircase, and turned to face Alex.
Despite her swift about-face, he didn’t bump into her. Not quite. But he stopped perilously close, only millimetres away. The prickles running up and down her spine shifted accordingly, flowing round to the front of her body, then up her neck and into her cheeks, making every follicle on her head tense. It was like being jabbed all over by a thousand acupuncture needles—and nowhere near as relaxing.
She took a step backwards and asked the question that had been clanging around her head ever since he’d materialised out of nowhere in the function room. ‘What are you doing here, Alex?’
He stood there, terrifyingly still, not even blinking. ‘Jennie, you’re my wife! Why would you think that I wouldn’t come and find you?’
Hot, salty tears burned the back of Jennie’s eyelids. This was what she’d wanted, what she’d prayed for—to hear those words in his deep, rumbling voice. When she’d run away from him, deep down in her subconscious, this was what she’d ached for. But it was only when he hadn’t followed that she’d picked her emotions apart and realised it.
But it wasn’t supposed to be like this.
In her tear-soaked daydreams he’d pulled her to him, pressed warm kisses to her face, whispered his devotion. In her dreams he’d never looked at her with such disdain. No, the words were right, but everything else was wrong, all wrong. And she couldn’t let him see how weak it made her feel.
‘Well, you found me.’ She put her hands on her hips, raised just one eyebrow. If there was one thing Alex couldn’t resist it was a challenge.
She hadn’t thought it possible for him to be more of a foreboding presence towering over her, but in his stillness he hardened further and his eyes narrowed.
‘I came for two reasons… There are things you need to know and, frankly, I think you owe me an explanation.’
An explanation. He wanted an explanation?
Her jaw muscles squeezed themselves into knots. ‘Is that all?’
She hated herself as she waited for his answer, knowing that a small part of her still wanted to hear him say he’d come for her, that he needed her. Those arctic-blue eyes looked her up and down.
‘Possibly. I’m not sure yet.’ From the look on his face, anyone would have thought he really didn’t care.
Jennie’s insides crumpled uncomfortably, as if she were a piece of paper that had been squashed into a ball and discarded. The only way she knew how to stop herself disintegrating was to unleash the rage she’d been nursing for the last few weeks.
‘Go to hell!’
At that moment Jennie wished she hadn’t been brought up so well, because she’d have dearly loved to wipe that condescending look off his face with a stinging slap, the kind that would probably have hurt her as much as it hurt him. The satisfaction at seeing him lose his cool, just for a nanosecond, would be worth it.
She turned on her stilettos and strode off in the opposite direction, no destination in mind, just needing to get as far away from him as possible.
Two things happened at once—she heard her stepmother’s disembodied voice coming from above her and a large hand shot out and shackled her wrist. Her skin burned against his as she tried to twist herself free.
Only one thought filled her mind—she wasn’t ready for this. None of it. Which was strange, because all she’d wanted for the last few weeks was to see him. She’d fantasised about it so many times. At first, she’d dreamed about throwing her arms around him and showing him enthusiastically how much she’d missed him. After that, her imagination had turned more to stamping her foot and screaming. Lastly, she’d envisioned herself looking stunning and aloof as he grovelled for forgiveness. But now she realised she wasn’t even close to being ready to see Alex. It was as if someone had reached a fist down inside of her and pulled her inside out. She needed time to put everything back in its proper place.
And she certainly wasn’t ready for her family to find out. She could imagine the look in her father’s eyes, the utter disappointment. Humiliation washed over her in a warm wave.
But Jennie knew how to pull herself together, knew how to suck all that negative energy in and turn it into something bright and glittering. It was what she did best—what people loved her for.
She looked up to see her stepmother descending the large oak staircase and, with great effort, flicked the inner switch that converted all the dross caking her insides into dazzling pure gold.
‘There you are,’ Marion said, her gaze wandering over Alex and then returning to Jennie. ‘I was just coming to find you.’
There was an awkward moment when nobody looked anybody truly in the eye, then Marion noticed Alex’s hand clamped around Jennie’s wrist and what was left of her serene smile melted away. She looked back at Jennie, a question in her eyes. Jennie did her best to send back an SOS, tempted to bat it out in Morse code with her eyelashes. Marion’s head didn’t move, but Jennie saw her agreement in a tiny blink that only went halfway.
Marion stepped forward and offered a hand to Alex, the picture of a gracious hostess—apart from her pinprick pupils. ‘I’m sorry, I know I should be able to put names to faces after all the poring over seating charts and guest lists I’ve done, but with a wedding this size it’s been hard to keep track. Are you one of Alice’s friends?’
Alex didn’t react straight away, unwilling to release his grip on his runaway bride. It was the first time he’d had any physical contact with her in weeks, which certainly hadn’t been what he’d been expecting when he’d booked a romantic honeymoon in Paris as a surprise for his bride-to-be.
He glanced at Jennie, at the open door at the other end of the hotel foyer, and reckoned he had a ninety-nine per cent chance of snaring her again if she bolted the minute he let go. With anyone else he’d have estimated a hundred per cent chance, but this was Jennie—a woman with a gift for the unpredictable.
How different it had been the last time he’d touched her, when he’d woken her and told her about the call that had lit up his mobile phone in the early hours of the morning, of the family emergency that was about to change his life for ever. She’d been warm and fuzzy with sleep, and she’d pulled him back to kiss him before he left and they’d said their goodbyes with the keen sense of desperation only newly-weds truly understood.
He peeled his hand from around Jennie’s wrist and felt cool air fill his palm as she snatched her hand away.
He’d promised her he’d be back as soon as possible and, even though that had been much longer than either of them had anticipated, he’d kept his word. But she hadn’t believed him.
That had stung. It had also pulled the loose end of a string of doubts that had been unravelling in him ever since. Surely, if his wife knew anything about him at all, she knew he was a man who kept his word, honoured his commitments. It was part of the reason he was here tracking her down.
While in his darkest moments he’d wanted to wash his hands and walk away from this whole mess, he couldn’t do that. Or at least he wouldn’t be able to do that with a clear conscience until he found out that there truly was no way forward. And, to do that, he needed to discover why Jennie had so little faith in him, and why she hadn’t kept her side of the bargain.
He wasn’t the only one who’d made promises. They both had. But it had seemed he’d picked a wife who’d struggled to keep them for much more than a week. Heat flashed behind his eyes, spiking through him. Why had she let him make the most life-altering, soul-wrenching promises a man could make to a woman if she didn’t trust him to kee
p them?
‘Marion Hunter,’ the woman in front of him said, startling him a little.
Jennie had mentioned her stepmother a lot during their brief relationship, always with affection and respect. Marion’s hand was delicate, but her shake was firm and Alex knew instantly that he liked her. She was no pushover, no matter how cultured and elegant she seemed.
He’d been so consumed with finding Jennie that he realised he hadn’t thought about anything past that, his mind a carousel of all the imagined excuses she’d have for her abominable behaviour. He hadn’t even considered what he’d say or do if he met a member of her family this evening, and that just wasn’t like him—he always saw the big picture, always planned ahead.
What had she told them when she’d returned from her honeymoon on her own? Especially when she’d eloped to Las Vegas with a man they hadn’t even met.
Marion Hunter scowled slightly as she slid her hand from his. He’d bet Jennie hadn’t painted him in a flattering light. But that didn’t matter. He didn’t care about being the villain; he just wanted answers.
He’d been so caught up in his own thoughts he realised he hadn’t even opened his mouth to speak, and now he rectified his lack of manners. ‘Alex Dangerfield,’ he said, with a hint of a smile in his eyes, even if it didn’t reach his mouth. But Marion Hunter looked at him blankly, as if the name meant nothing to her, and he guessed that as the scowl lines on her forehead returned she was mentally scanning guest lists, seeking a match. He decided to help her out.
‘Jennie’s hu—’
‘Half!’ yelled Jennie beside him, suddenly springing into life. She was smiling brightly, and her outburst had been one of her usual exuberant declarations, but there had been a tinge of desperation in the tone, a hint of a squeak because she’d pitched it too high. Marion just looked puzzled.
‘What I mean is…’ She took a deep breath. ‘Alex is my other half, my…my new… man,’ she finished lamely, all the energy and life whooshing out of her like air out of a balloon. Then she grabbed his hand and squeezed it, attempted to mould herself to his rigid side.
‘We had an argument, and I thought Alex wasn’t going to be able to make it, but he did, and at first I was shocked, but now I’m so pleased—really pleased.’
And then she looked up at him, her eyes begging, and the truth hit Alex like one of those cartoon ten ton weights that always landed on the stooge’s head and squashed him flat. Because that was what he was—Jennie’s stooge.
She hadn’t told them. Hadn’t even thought to mention the trivial matter of finding someone to spend the rest of her life with. How stupid of him to have expected otherwise.
Any pleasure at meeting Jennie’s stepmother evaporated in a blistering cloud of rage. That was all he was to his wife—an insignificant detail.
Well, he didn’t care what her family thought, didn’t care what hot water his presence here got her into. He wasn’t going to waste any more time.
Ignoring her stepmother, he turned to Jennie. ‘I need to talk to you. Now.’
Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly, and the fake smile she was wearing hollowed out.
‘I…I…’
She was saved from answering by a staggering group of rowdy wedding guests spilling from the banqueting hall into the foyer. They crowded round Jennie and her stepmother, talking loudly about what a smashing wedding it had been, and how they were having the time of their lives. Jennie started to edge away, but he made sure he stuck right by her side. He wasn’t going to even blink until he got her talking. Taking one’s eyes off this woman for an instant was a mistake.
‘It’s not a good time,’ she said, her eyes large and appealing. ‘How about tomorrow? We can talk in the morning—when everyone has calmed down.’
He just looked at her. Did she think he was that much of a mug?
Marion had escaped the throng of well-wishers and closed the distance between them. ‘Everything okay?’ she said lightly, her eagle eyes missing nothing.
Jennie bit her lip and nodded furiously, but he guessed her stepmother wasn’t fooled for a second. She looked suspiciously at him and he returned her gaze, candour in his eyes. He didn’t have anything to hide, did he? It was his shallow-hearted wife who needed to worry about bothersome things like the truth. Marion looked as if she wanted to interrogate him, and he was quite willing to allow her. Let the games begin.
‘How long have you and Jennie known each other, then?’ she said, making it sound as if this was just chit-chat, but her eyes never left his face.
Jennie held her breath and went rigid beside him.
‘A few months,’ he replied.
‘And how did you meet?’
‘Through my business,’ Jennie said on an out-breath. ‘Alex is a barrister, and I organised a garden party for his law firm at the end of the summer, and we…well, we hit it off straight away.’
Alex almost laughed. She made it sound so normal, so restrained. Yet their instant connection had blind-sided him. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her, hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her, wanting her.
‘You must have missed her when she flitted off on her impromptu holiday. She was gone for weeks.’ Marion Hunter lifted one eyebrow as she tried to gauge his reaction to her question.
Alex just let his eyebrows mirror hers, a slight crooked smile curling his lips.
‘Yes, it was awful,’ Jennie said, words coming out so fast they were almost tripping over each other. ‘But, you know, we phoned every day…texted…emailed…’ She trailed off and looked at the floor.
Marion watched him carefully as Jennie babbled on, and when her stepdaughter fell silent she nodded gently. ‘You must be the stomach bug I’ve heard so much about.’
Jennie was still holding Alex’s hand and now she gripped it with a strength he hadn’t realised she’d had.
‘Apparently so,’ he replied, catching on. One of the things he’d liked about Jennie was her creativity. He hadn’t realised it extended to fibs, too.
Marion turned to Jennie. ‘Well, it seems as if Mr Dangerfield here is right. You have some talking to do, I imagine, so I’ll say my goodbyes and leave you to it.’
‘Don’t go!’ Jennie said, a little too quickly, then recovered herself, lowering her tone and smoothing her dress down with her free hand. And then he felt her relax, breathe out. She continued slowly, the hint of a relieved smile in her voice. ‘After all, it’s too noisy here, and it isn’t as if I’ve got a room to go to—Auntie Barb’s in mine, snoring away loudly, I expect. And it’s late.’ She turned to face him. ‘We’ll just have to catch up in the morning after all,’ she added, not even pretending to look crushed by the fact.
Marion shook her head. ‘That’s what I was coming to tell you. We’ve got you a room.’
Jennie’s mouth sagged. ‘That’s impossible! They were all full up only an hour ago.’
‘But there’s one room we booked that isn’t being used tonight, remember?’ Marion said, looking very pleased with herself. ‘Of course, you’ll have to move the clothing rails and hair and make-up stuff into a corner, but it’s a large suite—I’m sure you’ll manage.’
Alex had been standing still, vaguely amused at the exchange between daughter and stepmother. It was quite refreshing to find things going his way, with very little toil on his part. He had the feeling that if he just stood here and let events unfold around him, fate would be kind. He would get his answers, and he’d get them tonight.
Jennie began to shake, right down to her fingertips. He could feel her hand trembling in his.
‘You don’t mean.?’
Marion winked at Alex, clearly having
decided he was a stomach bug that Jennie needed a second dose of, and he was unexpectedly glad to have found an ally, someone who realised Jennie shouldn’t always be able to shimmy her way out of difficult situations, that she had to learn to face the consequences of her actions.
‘Should have thought of it sooner,’ she said mi
ldly. ‘I’m sure Alice wouldn’t mind, and it seems a shame to let the room go to waste.’ And then she pressed a key with a large plastic tag on it into Jennie’s hand.
Jennie clamped her fingers around it as if it were a hand grenade with the pin out. And then the tension bled out of her and Alex knew he’d won. Funnily enough, he was disappointed by her reaction. He’d never known her admit defeat so easily. Her bullheaded determination was one of the things he loved about her.
Maybe he’d been wrong about her from the start. They’d rushed headlong into things, too caught up in the whirlwind that seemed to storm and crash around them when they were together. Unfortunately, he’d forgotten that, while whirlwinds were awesome displays of natural power, they were ultimately destructive. What a pity he hadn’t realised that until he’d been picking through the wreckage of his marriage, wondering what had gone wrong and whether it was even worth collecting the debris to see if it could be put back together.
In the end, he’d decided that all he really knew about Jennie Hunter was that she was the one woman who’d fascinated him, captivated him. Ensnared him. And that she’d run away the first time the going had got tough.
‘You know where it is, don’t you, Jennie?’ Marion said. ‘After all, you got ready there this morning.’
Jennie nodded dully and started leading the way. Marion grabbed his arm as he passed her and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. ‘Good luck,’ she said, squeezing gently. ‘She’s hard work—but she’s worth it.’ And then she walked smoothly across the foyer and disappeared into the banqueting hall.
Alex followed Jennie up the large wooden staircase. Not as closely as he had before, but close enough to watch those memorable curves move under the satin of that dress.
She had to be wearing that dress, didn’t she?
Finally, they reached the top of the staircase and she led him down a corridor to a vast pair of double doors. Instead of opening the door, she just stood there, the key clutched in her closed left hand.