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She didn’t.
Again he read her mind. ‘Oh, no, Miriam,’ he said softly. ‘Not an option. Not in my book.’
She stared at him, a mixture of pain and defiance on her face. She couldn’t go through the last months again, not for anything. She had survived, just, but a second time would tear her into little pieces and there would be a second time. And a third, a fourth…
‘OK, we make a deal.’ His tone was suddenly brisk, cold, almost distant. ‘We see each other until Christmas. If by then you haven’t changed your mind, if you still want a divorce, I’ll back off and do things your way.’
‘You mean it?’ She felt worse than she’d felt in the whole of her life, even the moment she’d seen Jay and Belinda together. But it was what she wanted, wasn’t it? What had to be.
‘I never say anything I don’t mean, that’s what you don’t understand. Not yet.’ He lifted a hand and stroked a lock of hair from her cheek, allowing it to fall back into the silky curtain framing her face. ‘But you will, Miriam. You will.’ He turned, reaching for his jacket.
‘You’re leaving?’ she asked, confused.
‘I’m going to wait for you in the car.’ He shrugged into the jacket. ‘We’re going out for the day. Lunch. Dinner. The whole caboodle. So I presume you want to change. As your home is a little…confined, and we’ve agreed to keep this relationship on a platonic footing for now, I thought you’d appreciate my waiting downstairs. Am I right?’
‘You…you don’t have to.’ She didn’t know if she was on foot or horseback. ‘It won’t take me long to change.’
‘Which will involve you taking off your clothes,’ he said lazily. ‘And I’m only human, my love.’
And with that he left.
CHAPTER FIVE
HOW had it come about that she’d agreed to spend the day with Jay?
After he had left the bedsit Miriam stood for a full minute in a state of numb disbelief.
Had she agreed to it? she asked herself once she’d come to life and begun to get ready. She wasn’t sure, but somehow it had happened. Which showed nothing had changed. Jay always got what he wanted.
She pressed her hands to her hot cheeks, disgusted with herself for the feeling of excitement that was sending tingles down her spine. In spite of everything the thought of spending time with Jay was intoxicating, which was double confirmation she shouldn’t be doing it. She wanted to be over him. She wanted to be cool and contained and oblivious to his charm, but wanting wasn’t enough. In the aftermath of their separation, when she had been raw and bleeding inside, she’d promised herself she would keep a mental as well as physical distance from Jay. If she didn’t let him get near he couldn’t hurt her again. Basic common sense. But she hadn’t bargained for common sense going out of the window as soon as she was with him.
Groaning, she surveyed the contents of her wardrobe. What to wear for a day out with one’s estranged husband? She didn’t want him to think she was trying too hard, but neither did she want to look like the poor relation. Jay hadn’t been dressed up, but then he was the sort of man who looked fantastic in anything, so that was no help.
Eventually she decided on a coffee-coloured wool dress and waist-length cashmere cardigan in soft cream. She’d recently treated herself to a pair of cream suede boots and a matching hooded coat for the winter, and in spite of the sunshine outside it was cold enough to wear them. She left her hair loose and applied the minimum of make-up, just mascara and lip gloss, and a pair of plain silver hoops in her ears.
Before leaving the bedsit she looked at herself in the mirror. The high-heeled boots made her legs look longer and slimmer than usual and although the coat had cost a fortune it had been worth it. For once she didn’t look too bad, she thought, tilting her head at the bright-eyed girl looking back at her. She didn’t possess the smooth sophistication that clothed women like Belinda Poppins, but then she’d never pretended to be a model type.
‘Anyway, it doesn’t matter how you look,’ she muttered, reaching for her handbag. Although it did. Where Jay was concerned, it did. Sighing at her inconsistency, she left the flat.
When she reached the hall, Clara’s front door opened. Clara surveyed her accusingly. ‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ she said dramatically. ‘Tell me the reason slimeball is sitting in his car outside is not because he’s waiting for you.’
Miriam smiled; she couldn’t help it. ‘We’re going out to lunch,’ she admitted, deciding not to mention dinner. ‘There are things to discuss.’
Clara rolled her eyes. ‘A lamb to the slaughter.’
‘No, it’s all right, really. I know what I’m doing.’
‘With a man like your ex? Honey, no woman knows what she’s doing around someone like him. He’ll convince you black is white and before you know it you’ll be waking up beside him and washing his socks.’
‘Not me,’ Miriam said as lightly as she could manage. ‘I’m done with the whole washing-socks scenario.’
‘Now, some of your friends might believe that but not me.’ Clara surveyed her darkly, hands on hips. ‘You just watch yourself, OK? That soft centre of yours is a mite too soft for your own good at times.’
‘OK, Mum.’ Miriam smiled. ‘See you later.’
When she opened the door of the building the street was lit with a cold, wintry sunshine and Jay immediately unfolded himself from the silver Aston Martin parked in front of the house. By the time she’d reached the car he had the passenger door open for her, his eyes warm as they stroked golden light over her face. ‘You look delicious,’ he murmured. ‘Good enough to eat.’
Miriam frowned. ‘I’d prefer to keep this more…platonic if you don’t mind,’ she said, using his own terminology against him.
