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'But why? I have a perfectly good house, and you will be away a lot. I have neighbours...' She trailed off, shaken by the cool detachment in his dark gaze as he turned, his hand on the door, and watched her stumble through her reasoning.
'You are my wife; you will do as I say,' he continued ruthlessly. 'Now I suggest you go to bed; you look tired. As for your house, I will make arrangements tomorrow for the sale of the property.'
Jacy bit her lip, anger giving way to hurt at his dismissive tone. Had the past few weeks meant nothing to him? She had fondly imagined they were growing closer, but now she was no longer so sure. 'That is unnecessary, Leo.' Crossing to him, she laid her hand on his arm. 'Surely you can see the sense of my proposal? It will be much better for me and my child,' she pressed.
'Our child. And I decide what is necessary. I don't wish to hear any more about it.' The dark-lashed black eyes clashed with hers, and his hand covered hers on his arm. 'Go to bed; I have work to do in the study. I will join you later.'
She said nothing. She was infuriated by his arrogant assumption that she would do exactly as he said, and afraid as the warmth of his hand on hers sent the all too familiar shivers of pleasure down her spine.
He carelessly brushed his other hand through her long hair, adding, 'I won't be long,' and her brief defiance vanished as her pulse raced hectically, anticipation curling in her stomach. He only had to touch her and she melted.
'Leo, about the house-' she began, lifting her free hand and running her fingers teasingly down his throat to his chest.
'Enough, woman.' His icy control broke, and he kissed her with hard hunger before thrusting her away. 'Don't try it,' he snarled.
'Try what?' she muttered shakily, still reeling from the unexpected force of his kiss.
'I will not be manipulated by sex, not even by you.' Swinging on his heel, he left, the door rocking on its hinges behind him.
Later, lying in the unfamiliar bed in a room decorated efficiently in shades of brown and blue, waiting for Leo to join her, Jacy silently seethed. She loved him, and yet he dared to accuse her of using sex to manipulate him. If anything, the reverse was true. It was Leo who managed to get his own way every time simply because she could not say no to him.
How long she could continue with the gamble that her love would be returned she did not know, but she had a sinking feeling that this was one bet she was not going to win. She knew herself well enough to realise she was not cut out to play the little hausfrau. Eventually Leo, with his abrupt mood swings, and his arrogant assumption that she would obey his every whim, would try her temper too far.
A humourless smile curved her lips. She had always known Leo was ruthless, but because of her love for him and their unborn child she bit her tongue and held her temper. But her patience wasn't finite—anything but... Eventually she fell into an uneasy sleep alone. But in the morning she awoke to find Leo standing by the side of the bed, staring down at her, a cup of tea in his hand.
He was wearing an immaculate charcoal-grey business suit. His handsome face, tanned even deeper by their holiday in the sun, was somehow remote. But to Jacy he looked every inch the perfect male animal, and her heart expanded with love. Still drowsy, she reached a hand out sleepily. 'Come to bed.'
'Sorry—work.' Lowering his dark head, he kissed her lightly on the cheek, adding perfectly calmly, as though he were addressing a board meeting, 'Don't go out without telling me where you're going. Here is my number. Ring if you want anything.' And, pressing a piece of paper in her hand, he left.
It was all very well for Leo; he had his work to keep him occupied, Jacy thought a few days later, but for her it was a vast adjustment from being a busy career girl to lying around in an apartment all day. Leo had taken her out twice, once to th
e doctor for her medical check, and once on a very expensive shopping spree in Kensington, culminating in lunch in a small Italian bistro next to the Kozakis office block. He had bundled her into a taxi and sent her home, but he rarely managed to get home himself before eight, and the apartment was beginning to feel like a prison.
On impulse she rang Liz and after an exchange of greetings she made a date to meet her the same day for afternoon tea at Harrods. Feeling much better, she bathed, washed her hair, and really went to town on her make-up. Even so, she was ready before noon.
She wandered around the empty apartment and, catching sight of herself in the large mirror in the hall, thought, Not bad, Jacy! Her skin was still tanned a nice golden brown from her honeymoon and her sun-streaked hair was brushed back from her face and tied with a silk scarf to fall in a curling ponytail down her back. She was wearing one of the new outfits Leo had chosen and paid for, a pale blue and yellow patterned silk blouson jacket with a plain blue sleeveless scooped-neck blouse and matching patterned culottes. It was a lovely summer May day and she wore no stockings, just low-heeled strappy blue sandals. Her only jewellery was the pendant Leo had given her; she had retrieved it from the bathroom floor weeks ago and remembering the angry scene that had followed at the time, she had an urge to see Leo. Her insecurities were showing, she knew, but what the hell! He was her husband. She knew where his office was. Why not?
The decision made, she walked jauntily out of the apartment, and hailed a cab. She would surprise him; they could eat at the little bistro again and then she would go on and meet Liz for tea. After all, she was feeding two; she could afford to make a pig of herself for once.
An hour later, as she turned the key in the lock of her own house, food was the furthest thing from her mind. Pale and shaking, she staggered to the bedroom and fell down on the bed, the tears rolling helplessly down her cheeks.
She cried and cried, great racking sobs that shook her whole body. She bent her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Curved into a near foetal position, she wept until there were no more tears. Her throat dry and parched, her head aching, she finally turned over on to her back and lay staring sightlessly at the ceiling.
Jacy couldn't believe the pain; it seared her flesh like a million lash strokes. In her mind's eye she saw once again the entrance to Kozakis House, the impressive office block in the centre of the city. The glass doors parted automatically and out on to the pavement stepped a couple. The man, tall and dark, his handsome face wreathed in smiles, turned his head to the blonde woman, and, curving an arm around her shoulders, kissed her cheek. Leo and Thelma ...
Like a spectre at a feast Jacy saw herself fall back against the wall of the building and watch them stroll along the street and turn into the entrance of a familiar restaurant.
Betrayal... Deception... Emotive words, but who was at fault? she asked herself brutally. Her husband of a few weeks had betrayed her with another woman, but she could not accuse him of deception. He had made no promise to love her. He had married her for the child she was carrying. He had quite openly blackmailed her into the marriage; he had not tried to deceive her with soft words or avowals of undying love.
No, she had done that herself. Deliberately she had deceived herself, by imagining that their marriage was anything other than a convenient deal between two people responsible for a child. She had betrayed herself, the strong, mature Jacy with a clear knowledge of her own self-worth, which she had deliberately suppressed in a futile gamble to win the love of a man who wasn't worthy of her love.
Sitting up, she swung her feet to the floor and, sweeping her tangled mass of hair from her face, she cupped her head in her hands. How could she have been such a complete and utter idiot? Leo was a highly sexed virile man. Last night he had not touched her, now she knew why: he had a date for today... He could afford to go without for a few hours. It was that basic, that simple...
Getting to her feet, she looked around the familiar room. A photograph of her father in a brass frame had pride of place on the bedside table. She stared at it for a moment, remembering the first time Leo had betrayed her, and how she had found comfort and strength from her father. He might have been wrong about the palimony case, but he had been right in his reading of Leo's character; of that she had no doubt. When she was eighteen he had warned her. God! The cry was from her very soul; how she wished she had heeded the warning.
But it wasn't too late, she vowed silently. Her parents had brought her up to be strong and independent. Was she going to disgrace their memory by wallowing in despair and self-pity? No way! She ran a hand over the soft swell of her stomach; this was her baby, their grandchild. For the baby's sake she would survive the heartbreak, and the first thing she needed to do was eat. The empty feeling in her stomach was not just despair but a genuine need for sustenance.
She made her way downstairs and stopped in her living-room, and looked with dismay at the row of large packing-cases stacked against one wall. Another sign of her spineless behaviour where Leo was concerned. Rather than argue with him again, she had meekly handed him a key for the house and allowed him to arrange the sale.
