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The waiting. Coming second to his requirements every time. Not even beingaskedif she’d like to go out or stay home. His business ambitions took priority over their relationship, such as it was, though Jack Reilly was already an incredibly successful, wealthy man.
Oh, he could be tender and warm, thoughtful too, and when he set out to charm, which he often did, he was impossible to resist. As for intimacy...
Bess took another gulp of her cocktail to counteract the heat flushing her cheeks, thinking how very well Jack did intimacy. Just his kiss turned her knees to jelly and her brain to mush.
‘Even though I’ve got plenty of time on my own,’ Lara continued, ‘it’s hard to plan anything because George expects me to be ready for him at any time.’
Again, Lara could be describing Bess’s life. Every time she began to settle in a city, Copenhagen, Madrid or London, Jack or his PA informed her they were moving on. There was little notice as the tentative life she’d tried to build was abandoned.
‘I never dare relax in an old T-shirt or flannel pyjamas.’
Bess remembered her favourite sleep shirt. The cosy one she used to enjoy snuggling into. Jack had deplored it, preferring her to wear silk and lace, or nothing, in bed. Somewhere during their many moves she’d lost it.
‘Sorry, Bess. I shouldn’t complain. I’ve got an easy life for all that.’
Lara summoned a waiter for more drinks. Usually Bess would have stopped at one cocktail since she was attending an event later. But she was caught up in the creeping horror that pinched her nape and chilled her blood.
Jack had married her, but she might as well be his mistress.
Bess swallowed convulsively. Her throat lined with the razor-sharp shards of her broken dreams.
The truth hit like a hammer blow, cramping her lungs and smashing her already bruised heart. Her hands trembled and she put down her glass.
That carping voice, the one she usually silenced, was in her head again.
You’re a trophy wife, no more than a mistress with a wedding ring.
The only difference between her and Lara was the marriage ceremony she’d attended, she with stars in her eyes and Jack with satisfaction at acquiring an asset to help his domination of the world’s renewable energy market.
After eighteen months of marriage Jack was no closer to falling in love with her.
A great ache opened up inside Bess, so vast it threatened to consume her. Because she finally faced the truth she’d avoided for so long.
Her husband would never love her.
And every day spent in this one-sided marriage was slowly killing her.
CHAPTER ONE
Ten months later
BESSSLIPPEDONher sunglasses against the glare of blue sky, turquoise sea and a beach so white it looked like icing sugar. Beyond that was a tangle of greenery. Though she saw small clearings and buildings tucked beneath trees.
Taking the pilot’s hand, she stepped from the seaplane and onto the pier while he got her luggage.
She’d seen some amazing places but none like this.
That she was here for a celebration and not work made it even more special. Since leaving Paris and Jack almost a year ago, she’d thrown herself into one challenge after another, delighting in the freedom to take projects that stretched her, testing her skills and bringing a satisfaction she hadn’t felt in ages. Not since her marriage when she’d given up work to support her husband.
Bess drew a slow breath, pushing that thought aside. It was ancient history.
She inhaled sea air and something sweet carried on the breeze from the lush vegetation. Tropical flowers perhaps. She looked forward to exploring. She’d enjoyed her work but was ready to relax and this looked the perfect spot. Trust her cousin Freya to find such a glorious place.
‘This really is paradise,’ she murmured. ‘Like something from a travel brochure.’
The pilot nodded as he placed her suitcase beside her. ‘It sure is. Except this island’s so exclusive I doubt they’d allow travel journalists.’ He looked at her speculatively. ‘You haven’t visited before?’
She shook her head. ‘I’ve never been to the Caribbean.’
