'So adamant,' he drawled. 'Hey, I approve.'
'Yes, well. . .' She trailed off. She was proud of her home. She had tastefully furnished the two main reception-rooms in Early American style. The family-room she kept minimally furnished for Val and herself to play in. The hall still retained the original panelling, with the added delight of some interesting carvings.
In the olden days the master mariners and craftsmen who had lived in the area had also turned their hand to interior design, and the same seaman who carved a figure-head on an old sailing boat had been just as likely to carve a staircase when on dry land.
Personally Zoe loved the fireplace in this room; it was a prime example of the work of a skilled carver, and, with the fire lit and the pretty Laura Ashley curtains and decor, the room was cosy and intimate.
Too intimate, she thought, her eyes sliding over Justin's long, lounging body. 'It's not that big—only four bedrooms,' she said quickly—anything to break the growing tension.
'We only need two,' he drawled mockingly. 'Though I think the smallest one will do as a study for me. I'll see about getting it set up tomorrow.'
'But will you be staying that long? I—I mean. . .' She stammered to a halt. How could she say, If you're not a match for Val you can go? It sounded so brutal.
'Let me make this perfectly clear, Zoe.' Justin straightened up, his deep brown eyes fastening on hers, anger in their depths. 'You came looking for me. You found me, and I'm back in your life to stay. You're my wife. Whatever the result of my screening—however long Val does or does not have—I will not divorce you, and after the other night when you couldn't wait to get into my bed . . .'
She felt the colour rush into her face at his reminder and flinched, tearing her gaze away from the sensual, knowing gleam in his eyes.
'You must have realised that in law it constitutes a reconciliation and we would have to be separated another few years before you could even think of divorcing me.'
'But what about your work, your career?' He couldn't really mean to give it all up and she certainly wasn't moving anywhere. She had a life, family, friends, a business.
Justin rose and strolled across to the fireplace, to lean one elbow casually against the mantelshelf. He turned slightly, his expression grimly serious as he started to speak.
'I can follow my career from virtually anywhere; tomorrow I will arrange for the installation of the right computers. I see no problem. As it happens I've just finished a particularly long case and I have a clear calender for the next month. I had intended taking a holiday.' He studied her from beneath his lids, the tension rising.
'But that's not really the issue, is it, Zoe?' In two lithe strides he was beside her, his hip propped casually on the arm of her chair.
'No?' She swallowed nervously. He was looming over her, dark and dangerous. She wriggled uncomfortably in her seat and slipped her feet to the floor. But his hand slid under the heavy fall of her hair and curved around the back of her neck.
'The issue is Val and you and me.' He tilted her head back so that he was staring down into her wide blue eyes. 'Today Val thought for a second I was shouting at you. It mustn't happen again; the child has more than enough hardship ahead of him witho
ut our adding to it. Agreed?'
'Yes, yes, of course, but--- '
'No buts, Zoe. You've done a great job with Val; he's a lovely boy, and he deserves the best. By that I mean two apparently loving parents. When he walks into the bedroom in the morning it will be to find his mother and father. Together. Understand. . .? No arguments, no fighting. A truce, if you will.'
So that was where he was leading. Why not? she asked herself. There was no surety that Justin would be a match for Val, and she had not given up hope of another pregnancy. In all honesty, she loved the idea of having another child irrespective of any health gains. She had been an only child and as a consequence had often felt lonely. In fact, she could have two or three. . .
She was beginning to feel quite euphoric; at least this time around he was prepared to share a bed with her, which was odd, when she thought about it.
She glanced up at him consideringly, through the veil of her thick eyelashes. He was so vitally male and yet before in their brief marriage he had rationed out their lovemaking and she still did not completely understand why. He obviously had no such hang-ups now if the other night was anything to go by.
Who knew? Propinquity might do what Zoe could not do before; he might actually fall in love with her. Then she remembered Jess.
'But what about your girlfriend?'
'Forget the girlfriend. I have.' His dark head bent, his kiss drawing all the air from her body.
CHAPTER NINE
'For Val,' Zoe murmured in brief defiance, against his mouth.
Justin's hands slid down and under her arms, their warmth penetrating the smooth cotton of her sweatshirt, burning into her as he swung her up and into his arms.
'For Val, yes. But don't kid yourself, Zoe,' he taunted, carrying her up the stairs. 'You want me just as much as I want you. You always have; the last four years haven't dampened the fire.' His lips moved sensuously over hers as he slowly slid her to the ground. 'Only banked it down for a while.'
She looked away from the passion burning in his eyes, the masculine confidence of his claim infuriating her. She tried to push him away and then she realised that they were in the bathroom. A sudden feeling ofdeja vu engulfed her. The trouble was that Justin was right. She did want him. Years ago she had fantasised about sharing a shower with him.