Sitting in the front stalls with Simon beside her the next night, even the enormous talent of Placido Domingo could not shake off her dread of bumping into Leo.
It happened in the interval. Simon had managed to secure them two glasses of wine, and after a sip or two she was finally beginning to relax. Simon lounged tall and elegant against the wall and Jacy stood in front of him. Teasingly she said, 'What a waste to womankind, Simon; you really do look incredibly attractive.' And he did, along the lines of a male model, impeccably dressed in a fashionable dinner suit.
'I know, darling, but right now I have a more pressing problem than my sexual predilections. A certain dark Greek is standing across the room and if looks could kill I'd be dead.'
Jacy's hand trembled, spilling a little of the wine. She breathed in deeply and, resisting the urge to turn around, she held her head high, her eyes going to the mirror on the wall beside Simon, reflecting the room behind her. Leo, clad in a perfectly fitting conventional black dinner suit, the plain white silk evening shirt in stark contrast to his swarthy complexion, looked absolutely devastating. He was standing with his arm around Thelma, but his glittering dark eyes were fixed firmly on Jacy. Her stomach felt as though it were on a roller-coaster ride, while her heart pounded against her ribcage until she was sure everyone must hear it. Her throat went dry and she could not tear her eyes away from Leo.
His firm mouth twisted in a polite social smile as he mockingly saluted her with the glass in his free hand.
She couldn't pretend she had not seen him, and stiffly she raised her own glass in greeting, then was struck with a wave of jealousy so intense that she clenched the stem of her wine glass till her knuckles turned white with the strain, as Leo lowered his dark head to his companion and whatever he said had the other woman smiling up at him in adoration.
Jacy wanted to scream bitchily, 'You weren't his first choice,' and a treacherous feeling of regret flooded her mind. It could so easily have been her with Leo tonight, if her stupid pride had not got in the way. Taking a hasty swallow of her drink, she looked away. She knew she wasn't being fair to Thelma. The woman was really quite pleasant, a very attractive blonde and an excellent interior designer. But Jacy had no doubt that the designs the other woman had on Leo had nothing to do with furniture. Telling herself not to be so stupid, she breathed a sigh of relief as the bell rang for the next act.
Once more in the auditorium, she was determined to enjoy the second half of the performance. But it was not that easy. A thousand unanswered questions swirled around her troubled mind. Had she been too precipitate in refusing Leo's invitation? Who was she kidding? She meant nothing to the man. Surely seeing him with Thelma at his side had taught her that much. A blonde— any blonde—would do for Leo. Jacy had too much pride, too much self-respect, to be any man's plaything.
'Aunty Jacy, Aunty Jacy,' two young voices chorused in unison. 'It's morning...'
Opening one eye, Jacy glared at the bedside clock. Six a.m. She groaned and turned over just as the terrible twins arrived with a thump on top of the bed. The reverberations ricocheted through her body, and stopped in her stomach.
'Yes, OK.' She hauled herself up to a sitting position and eyed the two pyjama-clad little bodies balefully, before gingerly swinging her long legs over the side of the bed. Then it happened: nausea rose up in an overwhelming surge; she could taste the bile in her throat as she made a headlong dash for the bathroom.
Five minutes later, wearily lifting her head from the toilet bowl, she swivelled around and sat on the tiled floor, her face on a level with two angelic-looking blond-haired angels, only the angels sported identical worried frowns.
'Are you sick every day, Aunty Jacy?' Tomas, the older by one minute, asked seriously.
'Apparently,' she murmured, getting to her feet. 'But it's nothing to worry about,' she reassured them, and wished she could reassure herself so easily. The past few days had been hell. She adored Tomas and Jethro, and when she had arrived on Thursday to take care of them for the weekend she had firmly waved Liz and Tom off, prepared to spend a pleasant Easter weekend in the comfort of their luxurious house. But it hadn't turned out like that. Friday morning had seen her waking up sick for the fourth day running, and she knew she could no longer pretend it was something she had eaten. The same thing had happened on Saturday, and now this morning. She could fool herself no longer. A brief calculation in her head confirmed her suspicion. She was two weeks overdue. She couldn't believe her own stupidity...
Luckily, with the twins to look after, she did not have time to brood over her problem, as they occupied every minute of the day. Speedily she washed and dressed, then performed the same service for the boys, amid much giggling and horseplay. Half an hour later, with breakfast prepared, she sat down with her first cup of tea of the day, and a slice of dry toast. She could not face coffee— hadn't been able to for the past week... A warning she had chosen to ignore...
'Don't put your toasted soldiers in your ears, Tomas; they are meant to dip in your egg,' she said bluntly.
'I'm Dr Spock.'
'Dr Spock had pointy ears, not toast sticking out of them,' she said matter-of-factly, adding, 'Now what are we going to do today?'
'Sunday school this morning, Sunday school this morning,' both boys started to chant.
Jacy breathed an inward sigh of relief. She could drive them to the village church for ten o'clock and have a couple of hours to herself before she had to pick them up again at twelve.
It had not been a very productive break, she thought with wry self-mockery as once more she let herself out of the Tudor house and locked the oak door behind her. She had spent most of it chewing her thumbnail and cursing Leo Kozakis. Still, she might be wrong, she told herself, pulling the soft blue cashmere sweater rather self-consciously down over her jeans-clad behind. Was she already subconsciously trying to hide an imaginary bump? Striding across to her car, she inserted the key in the lock, and then hes
itated. Lifting her head, she looked down the drive to see another car speeding up. Who could it be? Tom and Liz weren't due back until tomorrow. She waited and as it drew closer, her golden eyes widened to their fullest extent in shocked horror.
The car stopped two feet from her own, and with a rising sense of helplessness she watched as the driver's door opened and out stepped Leo.
'What the hell are you doing here?' she demanded peremptorily, more in self-defence than any real anger. She was too fragile this morning to deal with Leo Kozakis.
One dark eyebrow arched in silent query. 'Is it any business of yours?'
'I'm in charge,' she said sullenly. He was too arrogant, too thoroughly male, she thought with an overwhelming sense of inadequacy. Her pulse was racing and she could do nothing about the nervous fluttering in her stomach.
Leo, casually dressed in a thick cream Aran-styled sweater teamed with designer jeans, the lighter patches sexily outlining the points of tension in the denim, covered the distance between them in a few lithe strides.
'What of?' He glanced derisively around the obviously empty garden, then back to Jacy. 'You sound like a two-bit general who's lost his troops,' he drawled with mocking amusement as he stopped a hand's breadth away.
'I am not interested in your opinion, and if you're looking for Tom and Liz they're away. I'm taking care of the twins.'
'And who is taking care of you?' Leo demanded cynically. 'The red-headed pretty boy?'