Suddenly apprehensive, Sera watched, dry-mouthed, while he began to undo his shirt buttons.
The top three undone, he paused and remarked mockingly, ‘There’s no need to look quite so scared, I’m not planning to leap on you before we’re hardly through the door. As I said, I prefer the slow, leisurely approach and the comfort of a bed.’
As the colour rose in her cheeks, he suggested, ‘Now, if you’d like to freshen up before supper?’ Picking up the tote bag, he turned and led the way upstairs.
After a moment, her soft mouth compressed, Sera followed him, the wooden treads creaking at every step.
Opening a door on the right of the landing, he showed her into a white-walled room with a few brightly patterned rugs scattered on the black floorboards.
There was a big brass bedstead covered by a beautiful old patchwork quilt, its colours faded with time and laundering, a huge, old-fashioned wardrobe, and a massive, bow-fronted chest of drawers.
An old iron fireplace with a black grate dominated the far wall, and the combined smells of soot and lavender hung on the still air.
‘Not terribly luxurious, I’m afraid,’ Keir remarked casually. ‘But it’s the only bedroom that’s furnished. The house belonged to an elderly couple who had inherited it, and they only used it for the occasional weekend.’
All Sera had heard was ‘it’s the only bedroom that’s furnished’, and her heart began to throw itself against her ribs.
If he really did mean to try and seduce her, to claim back what he regarded as his, how ever would she find the strength to hold out against him?
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘EARLIER tonight you mentioned a headache…’ His voice broke into her agitated thoughts. ‘Is it any better?’
‘No.’
He opened a door to the left, showing a flash of pale pink tiles, and returned after a moment with a glass of water and two white tablets which he dropped into her palm. ‘Take these, that should do the trick.’
She put them in her mouth, took a sip of water, and swallowed. They refused to go down and she shuddered as they dissolved bitterly on her tongue.
‘All right?’ he asked.
‘Yes, thank you,’ she managed.
‘Then, I’ll leave you to it. Ten minutes, shall we say?’
Sera recognized that despite the polite phrasing it was an instruction not to take any longer.
‘Oh, by the way, if you want to take off the party gear, there’s a change of clothing in the tote.’
It would look too much like accepting the situation, and she was about to refuse when, his eyes on the low-cut bodice of her dress, he added, ‘Though I must say I much prefer what you have on at the moment.’
A second later the latch clicked behind him.
There was neither lock nor bolt on the door, so she couldn’t simply lock herself in. Nor could she move the heavy furniture to form a barricade.
Hurrying over to the window she opened it and peered out. There was an easy drop to the sloping roof of the veranda but, judging by the condition of the wood, it wouldn’t even bear her slight weight. If she fell through and hurt herself, she would be in an even worse mess.
There had to be a better way to escape…
But first she would have to change into something more suitable than an ankle-length evening dress. Though she would have changed anyway, after Keir’s provocative remark…
Perhaps that was why he’d made it?
Opening the bag, she discovered several changes of dainty undies, a pair of well-cut white jeans, a button-through skirt, two silky shirts, a lightweight cashmere sweater, and a pair of flat-heeled sandals. There was also a nightdress, a dressing gown and a toilet bag stocked with everything she might conceivably need.
Keir had been very thorough.
The mere fact that he’d gone to so much trouble only served to re-emphasise that this abduction had been carefully planned.
Shivering, she took off her dress and undies and, deciding that it was too much of a risk to keep wearing it, removed the silver chain from around her neck.
Wrapping it in one of the shirts, she hid it carefully in the bottom of the bag before going to take a quick shower.
Some ten minutes later, dressed in jeans, the remaining shirt and the flat-heeled sandals, she made her way down the creaking stairs.
There was no sign of Keir and the front door beckoned.
Her hand was on the latch when common sense told her it would be useless to try and make a run for it. Once clear of the garden, with flat potato fields stretching as far as the eye could see, even in the half light she would be easy to spot.
With the car at his disposal, Keir would easily overtake her before she’d gone half a mile.
Unless she could take the car.
At this hour the roads would be fairly clear. If she could find her way back to Pine Cove before Martin missed her, she could pretend this whole thing had never happened.
Thinking back, she recalled that Keir had dropped the car keys into his jacket pocket and his jacket was where he’d left it, tossed casually over a chair.
Her heart in her mouth, she took out the keys and had turned to the door once more when she stopped dead. She had left the silver chain in the tote bag.
It would be a big risk to creep up and get it, but she couldn’t bear to go without it… And if Keir found it, it would tell him too much. Possibly enough to make him renew his efforts to take her away from Martin.
The keys in her hand, she was heading back to the stairs, when her captor’s voice asked suddenly, ‘Changed your mind?’
She jumped violently and spun to face him.
Keir was lounging in the doorway of what was obviously the kitchen. He had changed into casual trousers, an open-necked shirt, and trainers.
‘I’ll take care of those.’ He held out his hand and, reluctantly, she surrendered the keys, which he slipped into the pocket of his trousers.
There must be another bathroom, she realized, because his hair was still damp from the shower, and he was freshly shaven.
Despite herself, her eyes lingered on that beautifully chiselled mouth, and the beguiling cleft in the strong chin.
As though in response to that look, he ran lean fingers over his smooth jaw and remarked with soft intent, ‘Stubble can wreak havoc on a flawless skin like yours.’
He watched with satisfaction while her eyes dropped in confusion, before standing aside and ushering her through to the kitchen.
At first glance it appeared to be a typical farmhouse kitchen, with a stone floor, a huge black range and a scrubbed wooden table. But she was slightly surprised to see that, though the character of the place had been kept, it seemed to have most mod cons.
Opening the freezer cabinet, he took out a large, brightly coloured box. ‘How about a pizza? That shouldn’t take too long.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ she informed him flatly.
‘Have you had anything to eat since lunch-time?’
‘No,’ she admitted. She hadn’t had a great deal then. Ever since the accident, her appetite had been poor.
‘Well, as it’s never been part of my plan to starve you into submission, I’d like you to have something.’
When she half shook her head, he said, ‘Of course if you really don’t want to eat, we could always go straight to bed.’
She swallowed hard, while the apprehension his words provoked made a shiver run through her.
He raised a dark brow. ‘So which is it to be?’
‘I’d prefer the pizza.’
‘Hardly flattering, but eminently sensible. You’ve lost more weight than I thought. The clothes I bought for you are the size you used to wear, but I see they’re on the big side.’
Recalling his fury when Martin had bought clothes for her, she only just managed to suppress a barbed comment.
But mentally in tune, as usual, Keir remarked grimly, ‘In this case it was justified.’
‘On what grounds?’
When, biting her lip, she relapsed into silence, he shrugged and got on with the preparations for the simple meal.
As soon as a green salad had been tossed and the pizza placed in the oven, he suggested, ‘We’ve time for a drink while it’s cooking. What would you like?’
She would have liked to refuse but, facing the fact that it was foolish to remain thirsty, she said, ‘Fruit juice, please.’
He poured two tall glasses chinking with ice and, having handed her one, opened the back door and led the way outside.
‘I thought we’d eat on the porch so we can enjoy the moonlight.’
The rails of the old wooden veranda were twined around with gnarled and twisted grapevines and rambling roses. It had a lantern each side of the door and was furnished with a table and chairs as well as a swing-seat.
Sera was making for one of the upright chairs when, a hand beneath her elbow, Keir steered her to the swing-seat and sat down beside her. ‘We might as well be comfortable.’
He had left the lanterns unlit and, out of range of the kitchen window, the porch was washed with silver moonlight.
It was warm and still, the balmy air full of night sounds and the night fragrances that are so much more poignant than those of the day.
They sat for a while sipping their drinks, neither saying a word. Then Keir turned to her and asked, ‘How’s the headache?’
‘Much better, thank you,’ she answered with studied civility.
When she said nothing further, as though set on making polite conversation, he queried lightly, ‘So what do you think of my new house? Do you like it?’
Normally she would have loved it, but in these circumstances it was just another prison.
She considered not replying. Then, unable to see the sense in making a bad situation worse, said evenly, ‘It seems a strange choice.’
‘I wanted a house on Long Island, within easy reach of the sea, but I didn’t fancy a sumptuous place in the Hamptons surrounded by neighbours, well-kept lawns, and swimming pools. This kind of farmhouse, with real character, has become some of the most sought-after real estate on the island. More valued than contemporary property and, in my opinion, a great deal nicer. So when it came on to the market a short time ago I thought I’d take a look at it. I liked it on sight and decided to keep it.’
‘For romantic weekends?’ The words were out before she could prevent them. Hastily, she added, ‘If I remember rightly, you used the word romantic…’
Hearing the hint of derision, he raised a dark brow. ‘And you don’t think it is? When you’re sitting surrounded by moonlight and roses on the back porch of a place steeped in history…’
He uncoiled his considerable length with a sigh. ‘We might as well eat. The pizza should be done by now.’
When he returned with a laden tray, she had moved to sit in one of the upright chairs by the table.
Keir nodded his approval. ‘Having scared you into it, I’m glad to see you haven’t changed your mind about eating.’
Lifting her chin, she lied, ‘You didn’t scare me into it…’
Seeing by his amused smile that he didn’t believe a word, she added firmly, ‘I found I was hungry after all.’
‘Good.’
He helped her to half the pizza and a generous amount of salad, before pouring a glass of red wine for them both.
In resentful silence she picked up her knife and fork but, after her first mouthful, she realized her words had been truer than she’d thought.
After they’d done justice to the meal, he raised his glass in a toast. ‘Here’s to Kathleen, who made this possible.’
When, tight-lipped, Sera refused to drink, he said quietly, ‘Don’t hold it against her. Kathleen did what she did very largely for your sake. She thought it was for the best.’
‘She was wrong! She should have considered Martin.’
‘I think you’ll find she was considering him. If you have a beloved, headstrong child, would you want that child to keep something you knew was going to hurt it?’
‘The only way I’ll hurt Martin is by going off with another man, by not being there when he wants me.’
‘I guess she was thinking in broader terms. He’s already got one failed marriage behind him. What about the future, when he’s married to a woman he doesn’t really love, and who doesn’t love him?’
‘But he does love me.’
‘He’s infatuated, obsessed, call it anything you like…. except love. If it was love, affection, even liking, something good would survive, something strong enough to glue the marriage together. But, sooner or later, both infatuation and obsession die, then what’s left? Nothing but emptiness…’
He spoke with passion and conviction and she was forced to agree with him.
But it still didn’t alter anything. Until Martin’s feelings for her, whatever they were, died, she couldn’t walk away from him. While he still wanted her, she owed it to him to stay.
There was a long pause, while Sera sat like a marble statue.
His long, heavy-lidded eyes on her face, Keir commented quietly, ‘I could almost swear that you agree with what I’ve just said.’
‘I do.’
With an odd note in his voice, he asked, ‘But it doesn’t make any difference?’
‘No.’
As though too restless to sit still, he got to his feet and began to pace backwards and forwards.
‘There’s still time to take me back,’ she suggested quietly.
She saw his teeth gleam as he smiled like a tiger. ‘I don’t give up that easily… Now, if you’ve had enough to eat, I’ll make some coffee.’
He loaded the tray and carried it back into the house, while she sat staring blindly over the garden.
The moonlight had bleached the colour from the shrubs and flowers, leaving everything silvered and ethereal, while across the blue sky little puffs of grey cloud drifted like smoke signals…
Returning with the coffee, Keir asked, ‘Would you like to move back to the swing-seat? It’s a great deal more comfortable.’
She would rather have stayed where she was, but guessing that though the question had been politely phrased, it was more in the nature of a command, she obeyed.
His grin confirming that she’d been right, he remarked sardonically, ‘My word, you have learnt to toe the line.’
In no way a violent person, Sera was seized by a sudden urge to take the smile off that handsome face with a good hard smack. But, recalling how he’d once said, ‘Don’t ever do that again’, she somehow quelled the impulse.
Putting the tray on the table, he filled two cups from the steaming coffee pot and handed her one.
They remained silent until their cups were empty and he’d replaced them on the tray. Then, coming to sit beside her, Keir said on a note of quiet purpose, ‘Now, I think it’s time for that talk.’
‘I’ve already told you there’s nothing to say.’
‘And I’ve made it plain that I don’t agree. There are things I need to know. Questions I want answers to.’
She stood her ground. ‘What if I don’t choose to answer your questions?’
He shrugged. ‘I’ve got plenty of time. I don’t mind if it takes a week to get some answers.’
Knowing there was no way she could win against such a set purpose, she gave in. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘I want to know about your relationship with Rothwell. Why you stay with a man you don’t love, a man who can be so cruel?’
‘Martin isn’t cruel…not really.’
Picking up her hand, Keir pointedly studied the marks on her slender wrist. ‘Then, how would you describe deliberately bruising someone?’
‘But he wouldn’t have done it if you hadn’t made him furious.’
‘He shouldn’t have done it then. Why take his anger out on you?’
‘Martin wasn’t always
like this.’ She made an effort to defend him. ‘The accident changed him… He’s been in a great deal of pain, and suffered a lot of anxiety and frustration—’
‘I understand all that. I’m not some kind of callous monster. But you were injured as well. Why make you his whipping boy?’
‘He doesn’t,’ she protested.
‘Don’t lie to me,’ Keir said shortly. ‘I’m well aware how he treats you. Before she realized I knew you, Kathleen told me quite a lot.’
‘I suppose you got to know her deliberately?’
‘Yes.’ He made no bones about it. ‘I’d been aware for a little while that something odd was going on at Anglo American. Rothwell was getting a reputation for being a recluse, and that isn’t like him at all. Then I heard that he’d been involved in an accident of some kind, which gave me food for thought…
‘I had the Warburton Building watched so that, by the time I moved in, I knew pretty well what the situation was. But I needed a fly on the wall view, so to speak.
‘His nurse was the obvious choice, therefore I made it my business to get to know her. I discovered that, because her previous patient had lived in Washington, she had no friends in New York, so I took her for coffee and doughnuts whenever she had an odd hour off.
‘It was no hardship. Kathleen’s as pretty as she’s practical. A thoroughly nice person… And devoted to Rothwell,’ he added.
‘We had some interesting talks. I don’t mean she was indiscreet in any way, but the right kind of casual questions dropped in from time to time produced some very revealing answers.
‘Reading between the lines, and taking into consideration what she didn’t say, I got a pretty good picture of what’s been going on. What I don’t know, is why you put up with it.’
‘If things were as bad as you’re making out, I could have just walked away.’
‘Why didn’t you?’
Carefully, she said, ‘Because they’re not that bad. Martin can be unkind at times, and demanding, but he isn’t cruel.’
‘That’s a matter of opinion. I gather he allows you very little freedom.’
The Determined Husband Page 11