The Marriage Solution

by Helen Brooks

  'Oh, come on.' Jennifer laughed unpleasantly. 'He's had more women than I've had hot dinners and his mistress is really something, as you probably know. You can't tell me that this all happened by accident You'll have to give me some advice on—'

  'What do you mean, 'mistress'?' Katie asked through suddenly numb lips, her blood freezing in her veins.

  'Whoops!' Jennifer's slanted eyes narrowed still more as she placed her hand over her mouth in affected horror. 'You mean to say you didn't know? I'd have thought that he'd at least have told you…'

  'Told me what?' She wanted to walk out of the room, pretend she was unaffected by the malicious envy that was suddenly so apparent in Jennifer's almond-shaped eyes, but she was held rooted to the floor by some power stronger than herself. 'I don't believe there's anything to tell,' she said flatly, her stomach churning.

  'About his mistress or all the other women?' Jennifer asked with catty innocence. 'Well, I can assure you it's all true. One advantage of my job is that I get to know all the inside titbits…'

  'Carlton has been keeping a woman in a flat in Mayfair for several years now although it's all supposed to be hush-hush. They're never seen out in public together but then she probably serves a more useful purpose inside, if you know what I mean,' she said with crude spitefulness. 'And he's still had other women on the side; the man must have a voracious appetite.' The pale blue eyes narrowed further. 'But then you'd know all about that—or would you, my sweet, virginal little sister?'

  Katie ignored the obvious question as she turned away, her legs trembling and the blood pounding so violently in her ears that she felt dizzy. 'It's not true,' she whispered. 'I don't believe it You're just jealous.'

  'Too true, sweetie; I've never tried to hide it. I—' As Katie turned back to face her something in her eyes caught Jennifer's words in her throat and for a moment she looked acutely uncomfortable.

  'Oh, don't take it like that, Katie. What did you expect anyway? He's hardly a shy little flower, is he? Look, perhaps I've got it wrong.' she added urgently as Katie sank down on the bed, her legs finally giving way. 'Perhaps this woman is—is—' She ran out of words. 'A friend,' she finished, with a wry, embarrassed little laugh. 'Anyway, he's marrying you. That's more than enough, isn't it? All the women I know are pea-green—'

  'What's her name?' Katie asked flatly. 'This woman, what's her name?'

  'I don't know.'

  'You know.' Katie looted hard into the beautiful face in front of her. 'You're a good reporter, Jennifer—you find rat all the sordid details before you let rip,' she accused bitterly.

  Jennifer tossed her head, the tone of Katie's voice erasing all guilt from her face. 'A Mrs Staples. Penny Staples. She used to be a model before Carlton took up with her but then she dropped out of sight Perhaps he didn't want her working or seeing other men; I don't know. She's the original recluse now, anyway, but Carlton pays the rent each year; that much I do know for sure. And I thought it was my duly to make sure you knew,' she added tartly. 'We are sisters after all.'

  'Yes, we are sisters,' Katie agreed dully as she rose slowly and left the room, her heart thudding so hard that it was a physical pain. Penny. Penny. It was too much of a coincidence for it not to be the same Penny whom Joseph had told her about So he had loved her all these years, biding his time until he could persuade her to belong to him again. But why hadn't he married her?

  The thudding had transferred itself to her head now and she felt nauseous as she collapsed on to her own bed after locking the door. Perhaps she was already married; perhaps the 'Mrs' was real? Or maybe…

  She sat up, the room spinning, as another thought occurred to her. Perhaps he had some hold on her too? Something that had forced her to leave the catwalk and all the glamour and allow herself to be incarcerated in what virtually amounted to a prison, just waiting for the moments when he could spare her some time and ease her solitude. Was it some form of weird punishment? A form of retribution for a love he couldn't let go?

  And Maisie? The pain in her heart was so fierce that it was catching her breath. How did she fit into the scheme of things? Her knowing about his mistress suddenly made the close relationship Carlton had with the beautiful brunette even more suspect She felt that there was something between them, some secret; she had felt it all along but had tried to put it out of her mind. Perhaps she was his mistress too? A hundred little incidents she had noticed but dismissed returned to her mind with renewed vigour. He was so different with Maisie in a way she couldn't quite pinpoint.

  When the tears came in a burning, blinding flood they didn't help. Even after she had cried herself dry the ache in her heart was savage. She lay on her bed, careless of all the bundled and one things she still had left to do, and watched the afternoon sky with blind eyes until the bedside clock told her it was five o'clock. He would be home now and she had to go and see him, confront him with the truth and tear away all the lies and meaningless promises he had made. 'Absolute fidelity'. She clenched her teeth and forced back the sudden rush of tears before washing her face and fixing her hair into a knot high on top of her head. When she faced him she wanted to be cool and controlled—an ice woman to match the ice man.

  Jennifer was waiting in the hall when she ventured downstairs. From the pile of magazines by her side it looked as though she had been there all afternoon. 'I told Mrs Jenkins you had a headache and wanted to sleep,' she whispered nervously as Katie reached her side and picked up her car keys. 'And where on earth do you think you're going now?'

  'Where do you think?' Katie asked dully.

  'I wouldn't—'

  'I'm not interested in what you would or wouldn't do.' Jennifer was still standing in the hall open-mouthed as she left the house. She had never spoken to her in such a cold tone before. Perhaps she should have done so a long time ago.

  Carlton was in his study when Maisie led her through and as he looked up from his desk, his face breaking into one of his rare smiles when he saw her framed in the doorway, she knew a rage so strong that she had to restrain herself from leaping at his face like a wild animal. How dared he smile at her like that when all the time—? 'Katie?' His smile faded at the look on her face and as Maisie shut the door, leaving them alone, he rose swiftly from the desk. 'What's wrong? Is it David?'

  'My father is fine.' Something in her voice brought him to a halt just in front of her, the arms that had reached out dropping back by his sides as he looked down at her. 'Who is Penny Staples?' she asked with icy control, and as she saw the blow register in his eyes she knew that Jennifer hadn't been lying, and the last tiny scrap of hope died.

  'I don't know what you've heard, Katie, but I can explain.' He motioned her to the seat facing his desk but she remained standing, her eyes set tightly on his face. 'Penny is an old friend—'

  'The old friend you were going to marry once?' she asked acidly, willing the anger to hold the trembling that was threatening to take over and render her useless. 'That old friend?'

  'Someone has been very busy.' The surge of angry red colour that fired his high cheekbones didn't intimidate her at all—she was way, way past that. 'Dare I make a guess that Jennifer is home?' he asked coldly. 'The fount of all knowledge?'

  'Do you keep an old friend in a flat in Mayfair?' she spat at him as she felt her control slipping and the urge to scream and tear at him with her hands grow. 'And I want the truth, Carlton,' she warned bitterly.

  'Sit down, Katie.' As she still stood swaying in the middle of the room he reached out and forced her into the seat, only to have her spring up and away from him as his hands left her shoulders.

  'Don't you touch me.' So great was her rage that she hit her hip on the corner of his desk and didn't feel a thing. 'I want to know about your mistress, Carlton—this old, old friend.'

  'She is not my mistress.' The words were punched out into the room as he watched her through narrowed eyes. 'I can explain it all if you'll just sit in the damn chair and listen to me. Penny and I were close once but that
was a long time ago—'

  'And she left you for someone else.' Katie stared at him, seeing all her tentative hopes for the future crashing down about her ears. 'I know that All I want to know now is if you pay the rent for her flat in Mayfair.'

  'Yes.' His eyes never left her face as he spoke. 'I pay the rent I was going to explain it all when we had some time alone together in Spain after the wedding, when I could make you understand.'

  'I'll never understand.' She drew herself up as her heart slowly broke, and faced him with an icy composure that was the result of shock and pain. 'I hate you, Carlton Reef. I thought that at least you would keep your word in this monstrous farce of a relationship but I might have known you would run true to type. You disgust me; everything about you disgusts me.' She was lashing out through her own hitter hurt and humiliation, trying to scourge the love from her heart with cruel words and an icy front, but inside she was screaming, dying.

  'I know that.' As his control broke he leapt at her so savagely that her head jerked back on her shoulders when he caught her arms in his hands, shaking her like a dog with a bone. 'Don't you think I don't know that?' he snarled rawly, his eyes glittering with an unholy fire and his face black with rage. 'I've felt the way you tense every time I so much as lay a finger on you, seen the reproach and wariness in those damn great eyes every time you look at me. I know how you feel, Katie.'

  'You were just waiting for something like this, weren't you—some excuse to get out of the commitment you made of your own free will?' He shook her again, his eyes lethal. 'You wouldn't unbend an inch, damn you. I've been turning inside out trying to keep to the softly-softly approach, to show you I'm not quite the animal you seem to imagine. I thought you'd begin to understand, that I could show you—' He made an exclamation of disgust as he threw her to one side.

  'I've been trying not to come on too heavy, to frighten you, and where has it got me?' He swore, softly and succinctly, as his eyes washed over her white face.

  'This is not my fault—'

  He cut short her protestation with a bark of a laugh that grated harshly. 'I didn't say it was.'

  Before she knew what he was going to do he had closed the gap between them, gripping her wrists as he hauled her against the hard wall of his body with ruthless ease. 'And you know the thing that really has been driving your ice-cool brain crazy, the thing you couldn't forgive me for?' he asked thickly as he looked down into her trapped eyes. 'You want me. Physically you want me as much as I want you. You might not like to hear that, my cold, suspicious little fiancée, but we both know I could have had you at any time over the last few weeks and you would have been there all the way.'

  'No—' As he took her mouth in a fierce, contemptuous kiss that forced her head back she was conscious of one piercing moment of thankfulness that he hadn't guessed the truth—that she loved him—and then all her energy went into fighting him. The cold control of the previous weeks had melted like ice before fire and the raw, primitive desire that had him in its grip made him blind and deaf to everything but his own need as he sated his passion on her twisting form.

  She was moulded into his body, the evidence of his desire hard and fierce against her softness, and although she fought him with all her strength he hardly seemed to notice. And then, through the anger and shock and self-contempt, she felt herself respond to his need as it fired her own passion.

  She hated herself even as she trembled against him, all resistance gone; she hated herself for her incurable weakness where he was concerned, but she just couldn't help it She loved him. It had no rhyme or reason, and he would never understand that it was more than mere physical lust, but she could no more resist him than fly.

  As he felt her submission the tempo of his assault changed, his mouth immediately persuasive and sensual as he kissed her throat and ears, his hands removing her light blouse with experienced ease before she even realised what he was doing, and cupping her full breasts in their brief lacy covering, his thumbs running over their swollen peaks. She gasped, her body alive with sensation after sensation as he continued to kiss and caress her, making her tremble with hungry expectancy.

  She wanted him—she needed him… Through the maelstrom of tormenting desire that thought was uppermost But like this? After what she had just discovered? Where was her pride? Her self-respect? But even as the warning formed it was gone in a turmoil of touch and taste, his devastating experience and knowledge in the sensual arts combining with her love to render her helpless and quivering in his arms.

  'Now do you doubt it?' Suddenly, shockingly, the warmth of his body had left hers and she almost whimpered with the betrayal. He held her at arm's length, desire turning his eyes into glittering black onyx, his face hard and set. 'I won't take you until we are legally married—that's one thing at least you won't be able to accuse me of—but tomorrow you will become mine, Katie. Do you understand that?'

  She was unable to speak, staring at him with great bruised eyes as he bent and retrieved her blouse from the floor. 'Put it on.' She struggled into the cotton material hastily, her cheeks burning, but when it came to fastening the small pearl buttons her fingers wouldn't obey. He watched her fumble for a few moments and then brushed her hands aside, doing up the tiny buttons with perfectly steady hands, his face expressionless.

  'I hate you.' And for an infinitesimal moment she did. How could he stand there, with that iron control firmly in place once more, and act almost as though this was all her fault? It just wasn't fair. None of this was fair. He had things all his own way, far more than he realised.

  The sting of tears at the back of her eyes brought her head up sharply and straightened her trembling mouth. Oh, no, she would have none of that. No tears in front of him.

  'I think we can take that as read,' he said grimly. 'But you are going to sit and listen to me, Katie, whether you like it or not.' He indicated the chair with an abrupt nod of his head. 'Now. You are making an appearance at that church tomorrow come hell or high water and I'm not giving you an excuse to change your mind because nothing has altered—nothing at all.'

  She sat. There was nothing else she could do and, besides, she had the awful suspicion that if she didn't she would collapse at his feet as the trembling that was situated at the very core of her body threatened to take over.

  'As your evil-minded sister informed you, I do pay the rent on an apartment which Penny Staples occupies,' he continued coldly as he walked round the desk and sat down facing her in the massive leather chair he had been occupying before she had interrupted him. 'But she is not my mistress.'

  As she twisted restlessly in her chair, half rising, he motioned her back with a sharp wave of his hand, his voice a bark. 'Sit, damn you! You've made one hell of an accusation tonight and you will listen to me even if I have to tie you in that chair. Now…'

  He took a deep, shuddering breath and she realised, for the first time, that he wasn't quite as in control as he would have liked her to believe. It helped—not a lot—but it gave her the courage to sit still and watch his face silently as he talked.

  'As I said, I intended to tell you about Penny on our honeymoon when I'd made you understand how I—' He stopped abruptly and shook his head, rising from his seat to stand with his back towards her as he looked out of the window into the mellow evening sunshine.

  'I knew Penny from my university days,' he continued flatly, 'and, as your informant's already told you, we'd planned to get married one day. Then the accident changed everything. Suddenly I had the responsibility of my father's businesses and all that that entailed, plus a badly hurt younger brother who needed all my spare time and attention. Penny didn't like it.'

  He paused for a moment and she saw the broad back stiffen. 'The final break came when I went round to her flat one night thinking to surprise her and found her in bed with a friend of mine. It was a surprise all right,' he added grimly. 'I called her all the names under the sun and left and that was that. But I felt bitter, very bitter, for a long, long time.
'

  'Joe stabilised. I found I had a flair for business and everything I touched turned to gold, and I made sure my private life was run exactly the way I wanted it. On my terms. No commitment, no promises; I took what I wanted when I wanted it and if they didn't like it they could always walk. Not very pretty but that's how it was.'

  'And Penny?' she asked stiffly, the pain that had flooded her heart at the thought of those other women keeping her back straight.

  'She'd become a model—a successful one,' he said slowly. 'A different guy for each new outfit—that sort of lifestyle. I'd seen her around at a distance but then one night about five years after the split, she came across to my table in a crowded nightclub and we talked about old times. She laid it on the line; she wanted me back.'

  He paused. 'But there was nothing there—nothing. It had taken me all that time to realise the girl I thought I'd loved was a figment of my imagination, an illusion. It scared me to death. How could I have been so mistaken? I'd have married the girl, for crying out loud. So I became even more determined that any relationship I had would be on my terms, that this so-called love was merely a short-lived feeling in one's imagination that died as quickly as it was given life.'

  'But the apartment?' she asked bewilderedly. 'If you don't love her…'

  'I haven't slept with Penny Staples since I was twenty-three years old,' he said coolly as he looked straight into her eyes, a shaft of sunlight from the window behind him turning his hair fiery black. 'But five years ago I got a call from a London hospital to say they'd got a patient who had tried to commit suicide, had no next of kin and had given my name as the only contact It was Penny. I went to see her and she was in a mess.'

  He shook his head slowly. 'She had skin cancer, badly; she'd left it far too late to do anything about it because she was scaled an operation might ruin her looks for the modelling circuit. What would have been a small scar on her jaw ended up as a major operation to remove half her face.'

  'Carlton…' As her face whitened he nodded slowly.