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A few weeks later Bess finished dressing for the wedding.
Instead of staying in a city centre hotel, she and Jack were in an exclusive chalet. It was built in traditional Alpine style with a gabled roof over a deep balcony. Window boxes spilled red geraniums over wooden balustrades and the interior was a mix of old-world charm and modern luxury. Beyond her window stretched a meadow dotted with flowers. Past that a wood rose steeply up a mountain that still bore snow at its peak.
It wasn’t anything like the places Jack usually stayed. Had he chosen it knowing it would appeal to her? He was proving thoughtful and considerate, consulting her and going out of his way to please her.
The chalet was undeniably luxurious but with a warmth missing in the famous hotels where they’d stayed before. Bess was delighted by the touches of traditional folk art decoration and the vases of flowers that looked like they’d been plucked straight from the meadow.
This would be the perfect place for a honeymoon. Idyllic, private, and with a big bed as soft as a cloud.
Bess bit her lip. She was doing it again, imagining herself in Jack’s arms.
They’d lived in England under the same roof on and off for weeks, with him disappearing occasionally for work. Far from cementing her resolution to insist on divorce, her thoughts kept straying in the opposite direction.
Was his suggestion that they stay married so crazy?
It made sense when it came to raising their child.
They’d proved they could live together and not be at each other’s throats.
A hollow laugh escaped. Far from being at each other’s throats, they were polite and considerate, determined not to break their truce. Jack because he wanted to prove they could work as a couple. Bess because she feared relaxing her guard might lead her to do something she’d regret, like going to his room and seducing him.
That urge had grown so strong she’d taken to locking her door at night and putting the key at the back of her wardrobe so she couldn’t give in to temptation on the spur of the moment.
Would that be so bad? He’s a wonderful lover and you’ve missed sex so much.
It wasn’t just sex she’d missed—it was Jack.
If she’d really wanted, she could have indulged in an anonymous hook-up any time since their separation. But she’d never wanted any man but Jack.
That was the problem. It was still Jack she wanted.
Jack she loved.
Bess sagged against the window, palms on the deep sill. Her heart plunged frantically.
Everything had changed between them yet the essentials were the same. She’d given her heart to her husband. And the more time she spent with him the more difficult it would be to walk away again.
He’d let her into his confidence and she’d discovered he wasn’t the man she’d believed. He liked to control his world but now she understood his predilection for planning and his drive to succeed were rooted in the heartbreaking instability of his past.
His determination to organise her life looked different when viewed from that perspective. Moreover he’d proved he could change. He hadn’t made a single decision on her behalf since coming to her in England. Jack asked and listened. They negotiated, though they’d reached no definite conclusion about a divorce.
Even his decision to choose a marriage of convenience was no longer a mark against him.
Her chest ached at the twisted example of love his parents had set, intermingling cruelty and passion. No wonder he’d suggested a marriage of convenience. Given the awful things he’d revealed, Jack probably didn’t believe in love.
He wasn’t cold-hearted. Far from it. The man she’d come to know harboured strong emotions. And while she didn’t agree with all his actions, he didn’t pretend to feelings that weren’t there.
Bess remembered her father’s ostentatious grief when her mother died. Had it been real? He’d always leaned on her mother. Maybe that was why he’d married Jillian so quickly, seeking another pillar to support him.
Would Jack ever need anyone? Need her?
A tap on her door made her swing around. She skimmed her hands down her dress and lifted her chin. ‘Come in.’
The door opened and her throat dried. She’d lost count of the number of times she’d seen Jack in formal dress, yet still he stole her breath. Her fingers tickled with the urge to smooth her hands over his hard chest and wide shoulders under that superbly tailored jacket.
Then her eyes locked on his and her breath snared. She’d seen those deep blue eyes regarding her with approval, satisfaction, desire. Even tenderness. But what she read now was different. Something that made her heart rise and her soul sing.
Bess leaned back, grasping the windowsill for support.
