AllFreeNovel
Share Us
'It's what you want,' she denied. 'So why not take it? You already have everything else you wanted—an heir on the way, those shares--'
'Those wretched shares again!' He looked puzzled, as if she'd just told him he'd grown a second head. 'Damn the shares! I'm already in the process of handing them back to you, in any case. I've got enough on my plate without having to contend with that doddery old board of so-called directors, and Luke—sweet heaven preserve me from Luke! It's your baby, your problem, and that's what I've always ever intended. All I ever wanted to do was help you sort the mess out. I thought you might need me.'
Uncomprehendingly, she studied his closed face, shuddering as he added bitterly, 'But you never did need me, did you? Or only as a name on your wedding certificate! And I don't blame you for that, at least you were honest about your reasons for wanting to marry me. I was the one at fault, all the way down the line.' His mouth twisted in self-derision. 'Too wary to insist on knowing why you had to get your hands on your money* too blind to see beyond what my eyes were telling me—that you and Fenton were lovers—and, right at the beginning of it all, too damn smug about my wretched plan of campaign.'
'What plan?' Her brow furrowed and she took a tentative step towards him but he turned away, his face dark with an emotion she couldn't identify as he glanced at his watch.
'It's not important now. Believe me, Cleo, there's nothing more to be said, nothing useful. And it's time we left—if you've seen all you want to see.'
He was walking away, across the shaggy, overgrown lawns and she stared after him, not understanding anything. She
felt limp and wretched, her mind in turmoil. He'd said he had never wanted the shares. He'd said so many things that hadn't made sense.
She was used to solving tricky financial problems but she didn't come near to understanding the man who was now striding away from her, not looking back. And she knew that if she let it go now, he would never look back again. He would close his mind on the brief episode of their marriage and she would never begin to understand the enigma who had once been her husband—once, and always, loved.
'Jude!' She ran after him, her feet flying over the grass, and she caught up with him before he reached the car.
'Ready?' he asked, only the slight roughness in his voice betraying any emotion at all.
'No.' She caught his hand, almost sobbing as she recognised the sheet of electrifying sensation that engulfed her at the physical contact.
He turned slightly surprised eyes on her, and she saw them cloud, then, as they swept her face, darken with what she might have believed to be torment if she hadn't known better.
She knew she must look a heap, her hair mussed, her face hot and crumpled from crying, from the heat—so far removed from her usual cool and impeccable self that she might be a different person.
'I want to talk to you,' she said, her voice betraying her savaged emotions.
He removed his hand from her curling fingers, which didn't augur well, she thought distractedly, but no matter, she was determined enough and could see, at last, that she had been to self-contained, too afraid of admitting her feelings, too unimaginative to question her own ideas concerning his feelings, his motivations.
'We've got our lines crossed somewhere,' she told him reasonably. She really did have to stay calm now, quite unemotional, otherwise she would never get the opportunity to know him more deeply, understand why he was as he was.
Ignoring the thunderous bar of threatening brows, denoting a rapid loss of patience, she said, 'You've told me you have no interest in the Slade shares—except on my account. And we both know you married because you want children. And yet--' she took a deep breath, trying to find the right words '—and yet, even though you know I never deceived you with Fenton, that our child will be born in about seven months' time, you are insisting on a divorce. Have I become so repugnant to you? Help me to understand.'
'Can't you leave it alone, woman?' His voice was harsh, the words flying at her bitterly. 'Must you twist the knife in the wound?' His height and breadth, the savage line of his mouth, made him menacing and she moved away from him instinctively, wanting to ease his pain but not knowing how because she didn't know the reason for it. 'Do you want my blood, as well as my peace of mind? I married you because I loved you—I'd been falling in love with you since the moment I first saw you.' The words were torn from him, wrenched out with anguish, and Cleo's heart stopped, then slammed on again and she wanted to go to him, to hold him and love him, but knew that if she touched him he would explode into a savage repudiation of all the hurt and anger he was feeling. She had to allow him to spill out the poison, the pain, she had to stand and watch, and listen, and it wasn't easy.
'And so I hatched my plots, my cunning plans. Emotional involvements between boss and employee don't work, and I wanted our involvement to become very emotional indeed. So I started a rumour. The Mescal Slade takeover of Slade Securities. Very neat!' His mouth curved down with self-condemnation. 'As I saw it, you would hear the rumour and come to me about it. And I would suggest your doing precisely what you are doing—move to your family's company and pull them clear. So far, so good.
Their decline was real, as you know, and you were the obvious person to do the job— the best, too. But there was a lot more to it than that, because when you no longer worked for me I could date you, try to make you love me, ask you to marry me. I had it all worked out,' he smiled mirthlessly, 'but before the rumour got to your ears, you beat me to it—didn't you just?'
He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, his wide shoulders held straight and proud as he turned away from her, and she held her breath, knowing that she had to stand there, and listen, when one word from her would put things straight. But she couldn't say that word, not yet. He was revealing a side of his character she hadn't known existed, giving her glimpses of vulnerability and self-doubt that made him doubly dear to her.
'Your proposal knocked me senseless,' he said quietly. 'I was being offered, just like that, exactly what I'd hoped and dreamed of having. You—as my wife. And I took the chance, not daring to ask myself exactly why you needed that money because I wanted to hold on to the dream of hope. Hope,'
he grated bitterly, 'that I would be able to teach you to love me. It didn't matter why you wanted to marry me, only that you did. Can you understand that, Cleo?'
'Of course I can.' Her voice was ragged, her clear eyes bright with tears of happiness. And he was calmer now, the hurt and anger partly expunged by his bitter, tormented words. 'Jude--' She moved towards him but he shrugged away.
'I don't want your pity. The blame's all mine. I took what I wanted most in the world, and then I spoiled it. I loved you so much that the very thought of you made music in my soul and then, when I was beginning to believe you were growing to love me, I killed all hope of that ever happening. I found you with Fenton and the truth, to me, was what I'd seen. I knew you hadn't married me because you loved me, and there you were, with Fenton, with the money, or some of it, that you'd been forced to marry in order to control, lying around. A sweetener for the lover you couldn't marry because your guardians wouldn't have approved.' His voice deepened. 'If only you'd told me, Cleo, as soon as we were married, exactly why you had to have that money, I would have made damn sure he never came within a mile of you.
And if you had,' he gave her a tired, hopeless ghost of a smile, 'I wouldn't have treated you the way I did, killed any hope I ever had of teaching you to love me.'
'I should have done.' She swayed towards him, her face pale, regrets eating her. She could have saved them both so much misery. But he did love her, had loved her all the time, and that was the most wonderful, unbelievable thing in the world.
Unhesitatingly, he cradled her in his arms, concern darkening his eyes, and she murmured, 'I wish I'd told you everything, but I was so afraid of what he threatened to do—not for myself, but because of Uncle John. And I was ashamed of myself for getting into such a situation in the first place. I didn't want anyone to know, least of all you. It was something I had to sort out for myself.'
'I know. Please don't upset yourself, Cleo.' His voice was infinitely kind, heartbreakingly sad. 'How did he get hold of that hotel receipt? Don't tell me if you don't want to—it's certainly none of my business, and if you were lovers—well, that's not my affair, either.'
'We were never lovers,' she denied, happy, at peace at last, within the circle of his arms. 'He'd asked me to marry him secretly, but I'd turned him down.
