‘Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart. I know it is too soon for lovemaking.’
‘How thoughtful,’ she snapped curtly.
‘Give me some credit, Lexi, but you have to understand, separate beds are not the answer to your problem. You need care and comfort.’ His dark head bent towards her.
‘Not now,’ she said starkly, and watched as Jake’s proud head reared back.
‘Then when, Lexi? You hardly talk any more.’
‘I do, I worked in Reception today for a couple of hours, and thoroughly enjoyed it.’ And she had. Jake had been working in his study and she had walked through to the hotel just as a party of French tourists arrived. She had felt quite animated for a while, getting back to work.
‘You can talk to strangers, but not to your husband?’ he queried silkily, his mask of concern slipping to reveal his frustration. ‘For God’s sake, Lexi, you have to snap out of it.’ His fingers dug into her flesh and she winced, her head lifting fractionally in time to catch the flare of frightening anger in his dark eyes, quickly controlled.
‘It’s hard, I know, Lexi, but we have to try and forget. When I first met you the one thing I noticed, above your beauty and your voluptuous little body—’ his dark eyes swept lingeringly over her from head to toe and then back to her upturned face ‘—was your eager appetite for life, your vibrancy; don’t let this one set-back knock all the life out of you. I want my wife back as she was. I want us to get back to normal as quickly as possible,’ he declared frustratedly.
‘If what you say is true,’ she opined with remarkable calm, considering his naked chest was scraping gently against the delicate fabric of her nightgown over her softly rounded breasts, ‘I think you should return to London tomorrow. After all, for the past couple of months you’ve worked in the city all week, only returning home at weekends. That’s normal for us.’ Her huge violet eyes held his gaze and she watched his eyes darken almost to jet, feeling the tension in his hard body. She thought she heard him murmur, ‘I need you,’ but she must have been mistaken as, with a faint sigh, Jake slid his hands up her throat and cupped her small face.
‘Yes, whatever you want.’ And, holding her head steady, he closed his firm, sensuous mouth over hers in a hard, possessive kiss. He straightened abruptly. ‘And God knows the business certainly needs me, even if you don’t.’ And he left, a defeated slant to his broad shoulders.
After that night, Jake returned to the London apartment and his head office, and Lexi slipped into a regular routine: she worked a few hours every day in Reception, and at weekends Jake returned
home.
He took her out for dinner, and to the theatre in York; he even insisted on them spending a day at Castle Howard, but nothing could snap her out of her lethargy, and the separate bedrooms remained... Meg tried as well, warning her that she was a fool to leave her husband alone with the lovely Lorraine all week—she was just asking for trouble. But Lexi refused to listen. If Jake slept with Lorraine, it was no more than she had always suspected, she told herself, and refused to admit there was anything wrong.
She worked, didn’t she? So what if she was a bit quiet? Surely it was allowed after all she had suffered. And she wrapped her grief around her like a shroud.
* * *
Lexi opened her eyes slowly and turned over in the large bed, just for a second she felt a pang of something like regret that Jake’s hard masculine body wasn’t there beside her. She sighed deeply and, pushing the tangled mass of her flame-coloured hair from her small face, she stretched and sat up. She looked around the room. A few short months ago, when the renovations were first finished, this room had been her pride and joy; she had chosen the decoration, a soft blend of peaches and cream saved from being too feminine by the heavy antique mahogany furniture. The summer sun streamed through the window, dancing into every little nook and cranny. It was a gorgeous summer day, and then she remembered the date—it was a Wednesday, her day for a check-up with Dr Bell, but also it was the day before her first wedding anniversary.
Dr Bell took one look at her and demanded to know what was wrong. Lexi broke down and told him: her guilt over losing the baby, her distaste for sex, even her suspicion that Jake was having an affair with Lorraine. Three hours later, after much good advice, such as ‘try taking a holiday’, Lexi found herself sitting on the afternoon train heading for London, and Jake.
She watched the patchwork of the countryside sliding past the carriage window in the hot summer sun and she felt as if she had awakened from a long sleep. Not so much sleep as nightmare, she admitted ruefully. Dear Dr Bell had explained everything: she had been suffering from hormonal depression and the fact that she had lost the baby and was consumed with guilt about it had made her worse, prone to suspicion, irrational... But once the doctor had convinced her it was a quite common reaction to a miscarriage, she had suddenly felt rejuvenated.
Lexi had taken great care with her appearance, for the first time in weeks. Her red hair shone like living flame and cascaded down her back in lavish curls. The smart, sleeveless plain mint-green silk sheath she wore clung lovingly to her slender curves and ended just above her knees, revealing a goodly amount of shapely legs; on her feet she wore high-heeled white pumps and she carried a small white clutch bag in her hand containing her passport. A hastily packed suitcase was on the rack above her head. She was going to surprise Jake, and persuade him to let his super-efficient Lorraine look after the business while he accompanied Lexi to Paris for the rest of the week, a repetition of their honeymoon a year ago. It would be perfect...
The first hint that Lexi’s plan was not going to go smoothly came as the train ground to a halt, half an hour away from King’s Cross station. Lexi heard with dismay that the train was delayed because of a bomb scare at the station, and to make matters worse a glance out of the carriage window showed the blue sky turn to black and the heavens open in a storm that would have rivalled Noah’s. She consulted the slim gold watch on her wrist and sighed. She would not catch him at the office, but still, she told herself, it didn’t matter. She would catch him at the apartment; they had spent many a happy hour there when they were first married.
Dreamily she recalled the first weeks when they were so close. Jake had told her all about himself. He was a self-made man, and a bastard, he had declared on their second date, but luckier than most. Apparently, his mother had fallen in love with a married man when on holiday on the continent, and Jake was the result. The married man, to give him his due, had provided for the mother and child. He had paid for a Victorian terraced house in London for them, and every month a cheque arrived, though the man himself never put in an appearance. When Jake was sixteen the money had stopped coming, and they had only been able to assume the man had died. Jake had left school and begun working on building sites and, after the death of his mother four years later, he had taken his first step into the business world, by converting the three-storey house into apartments.
Lexi smiled reminiscently; they had been lying naked in bed in their Paris hotel and she had teased him about being a self-made millionaire at thirty. Laughingly he had responded, ‘If you married me for money, as Lorraine would have me believe, you’re in for a shock. Every penny I make I reinvest; a paper millionaire need not necessarily have spare cash floating around. But don’t worry, I won’t see you go hungry.’ And, leaning over her satiated naked body, he had murmured throatily, ‘Take a bite of me any time, darling.’
The train started with a jolt, jerking Lexi out of her reverie; she was surprised to note they had been delayed well over an hour. Still, soon she would see her husband, and she hugged the thought to her with secret delight.
Before getting a taxi from the station she took time to purchase from one of the small boutiques a bottle of Jake’s favourite aftershave. Kindly the assistant gift-wrapped it for her. Not a very exciting or original anniversary present, but the best she could do at short notice. Ten minutes later, she was sitting in the back of a taxi speeding through the streets of London.
With a light step she dashed across the pavement and into the entrance of the mansion block that housed Jake’s apartment, dodging the sheeting rain. The lovely summer day had deteriorated into a very wet and windy night. Still, nothing could dampen her spirits and, with suitcase in one hand and bag and gift in the other, she dashed up the flight of stairs to the first-floor apartment.
She placed her suitcase on the floor and, taking her key from her bag, let herself into the cosy flat. A short hall with a telephone table and cloak cupboard was thickly carpeted in a deep, dark red. Silently she moved along the hall; she stopped at the hall table and deposited the parcel on it and the suitcase at her feet, and then took a step further to the living-room door. She reached out to open it but it was not closed and swung half-open at her touch, and then she froze.
Jake was already at home, and not alone. A small balcony with various large green houseplants partly obscured the door from the two people sitting side by side on a large, curved, black hide sofa in the sunken lounge. But Lexi could see all too clearly. Jake and Lorraine, a bottle of wine, and two glasses on the table beside them, but, more damning than that, they were both wearing only towelling robes.
She stood numb with shock, the rainwater dripping from her long hair, running icily down her spine, her thin dress no match for the storm outside. But the storm in her heart was worse. She listened in open-mouthed horror as her life dissolved around her.
‘It’s no good, Lorraine, I just can’t tell Lexi. At least not yet. She’s just lost a child, for God’s sake! She will be so hurt...’ Jake’s deep voice sounded harsh in the stillness of the room.
‘You’re being ridiculous, Jake. She has to know some time and if you don’t tell her she’ll find out anyway, and that will hurt her a hell of a lot more. It is impossible to keep a thing like this secret.’ Her scarlet-tipped nails reached out and curved around Jake’s arm, and Lexi, from her vantage place at the door, flinched as though she had been struck.