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CHAPTER ELEVEN
JACKHADSAIDhe’d see her later. Bess had assumed he’d give her the night. At a stretch another day.
Not two whole weeks!
She’d made it clear she didn’t want his company but hadn’t expected him to take her at her word.
It annoyed her. She told herself it was because they had unresolved business. The sad truth was that she missed him.
How could that be?
Since the Caribbean he’d been constantly on her mind. More since London when he’d swept her out from under the noses of the paparazzi. She’d spent so long bemoaning the way he’d once organised her life, yet that day it had been wonderful to be rescued.
More intriguing was the way he’d deferred to her on how she’d leave and where she’d go.
As if he really had listened to her complaint about him taking charge and making plans for her. As if he wanted to change for her.
She didn’t know whether to be grateful or resentful that he’d left her alone in this gorgeous place. He’d done what she wanted, giving her privacy, but it highlighted that despite everything wrong between them, she still yearned for him.
Memories of their lovemaking haunted her nights. Sometimes she’d swear she felt the stroke of his hand over her flesh, teasing her tender breasts and sending her to the edge of climax. So potent were those memories and her need.
Was he devious enough to stay away, guessing at her sexual frustration?
Bess stopped where the track opened into a glade, breathing the sweet spring scent of bluebells. It was the place she came to think. Yet still her life and her emotions were a terrible tangle.
She’d demanded a divorce yet every night when Jack phoned to see how she was, her pulse quickened. Despite her misgivings, she enjoyed his solicitousness. Worse, she was addicted to his whisky-warm voice.
Not just his voice. She still cared for him too much.
How was she supposed to move on with her life?
She’d spent two weeks here, trying to resolve her future. She didn’t have a home or a job. Jack would help financially but instinctively she felt that would complicate everything.
She wanted to be free of him yet found herself imagining the future he’d painted, where they stayed married and raised their child, giving it all the love she could wish for it. A small, defiant voice whispered that Jack had proved he could change and that with time maybe he could love her after all.
No! She couldn’t let herself be seduced by that fantasy again. She turned back down the path to the house, needing distraction. Like looking for an online teaching job which would allow her to avoid the paparazzi.
As she approached the house she saw a sleek blue car. At the sound of a familiar voice her pulse quickened.
Jack.
Emotions surged. Worry that he’d try to bulldoze her. Annoyance that he hadn’t warned her he was coming. Guilt over the way she’d accused him of wanting to steal her child. And running beneath them all, excitement.
She’d missed him.
Was that what he’d intended in staying away so long? Was he that Machiavellian?
But he’d simply done as she asked. She couldn’t blame him for the way she felt.
Annoyed with herself, she folded her arms. Her breasts, now feeling heavier and sensitive, tingled and she dropped her arms. That, and her very slight weight gain, were her only pregnancy symptoms. Bess was honest enough to suspect her mood swings had less to do with hormonal changes than the process of trying to break up with her husband.
Because part of her didn’t want to.
She relegated that thought to the deepest recess in her mind, slammed a trapdoor on it, added an enormous padlock and covered it with a boulder.
Bess drew a deep breath and told herself she was ready.
She followed the sound of conversation to find him with another man, surveying a sluice gate that led from the moat to a channel and the lake beyond. Jack stood in jeans and a pale blue chambray shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong forearms dusted with dark hair that she knew was silky to the touch.
