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Bess imagined being swept away in an anonymous car, leaving the melee of photographers behind, and some of the tension binding her rigid muscles eased. Her smile was instantaneous and real. ‘Good thinking. Thank you.’
Minutes later their car pulled out into the back street and, via a roundabout route, onto a main road heading away from the centre. No-one seemed to notice them go and they weren’t tailed.
Bess let out a sigh of relief. She kept her face averted from the window, reducing the chance of being spotted from the street. Which meant she couldn’t avoid Jack on the back seat beside her, or the growing claustrophobia from being too close to this man who made her feel too much. Her skin felt too tight and her breath too shallow. Her quickened pulse had less to do with the press pack than with being near him.
‘How long have you known him?’
Jack’s question confused her. ‘Sorry, who do you mean?’
‘The centre’s director.’
His expression was almost blank, giving little away. Yet maybe he wasn’t as good at hiding his thoughts as before, or perhaps now the blinkers had been stripped from her eyes, Bess could read him a little better. Despite his calm demeanour and the lazy stretch of his legs, there was a tension in him that hadn’t been there when they’d discussed avoiding the paparazzi.
Her brow knotted. ‘Janusz?’
A muscle in Jack’s jaw flexed hard. ‘That’s him.’
She paused, wondering what had got under Jack’s skin. Something had. She felt his tension. ‘Not long, only since I started work there. Why?’
Jack looked into those cognac eyes and felt something shift hard inside him.
He’d been prepared to deal with pushy photographers and a recalcitrant wife. What he hadn’t been ready for was the jealousy that knifed him as he’d watched Elisabeth walk down the stairs with another man’s hand on her back. Elisabeth starting in distress at the sight of Jack and shrinking back against that other man as if he’d protect her from her husband.
She’d stiffened in rejection when Jack touched her. As if his very touch hurt.
His gut roiled at the idea of her leaning on some man other than him.Preferringthat man.
Jealousy had been a searing stab to the belly. It was a new experience. During their time together he’d been so sure of his wife’s affection and loyalty that he’d basked in a warm glow of satisfaction and pride.
Now he just had to see her obvious regard for another man to feel worried and wrong inside.
He cleared his throat, aiming for a neutral tone. Even so the words grazed his larynx like broken glass against bare skin. ‘You seem close.’
‘Not really. But I like him and he’s very good at what he does. That’s one of the reasons the centre’s so effective. People trust him and he doesn’t let them down.’
Was that a crack at him? Jack stiffened, until he saw her curiosity. ‘Are you wondering about your donation? Believe me, the money will be put to excellent use.’
He drew a deep breath, trying to find his equilibrium. ‘That’s good to know.’ As if he cared about that when all his concern centred on her.
The intensity of his feelings rocked him. Ever since he’d seen that photo of her, shrinking back from a photographer on the street, it felt like he hadn’t been able to draw a proper breath.
Elisabeth shrugged and looked out at the street as if dismissing him. But an instant later her gaze locked on his. ‘This isn’t the way to my place.’ She made it sound like an accusation.
‘No. That’s the first place they’ll look once they realise you’ve gone.’
She was already shaking her head. ‘I want to go home. How do I lower this privacy screen and talk to the driver?’
‘Going home is the last thing you want to do. You’ll be mobbed and—’
It was as if he’d flicked a switch. In an instant she turned from contained politeness to raging fury. Colour flushed her cheeks and her eyes glittered. She didn’t raise her voice but it vibrated with such emotion he felt it smash against him. ‘Don’t youdaretell me what I want, Jack Reilly. I’ve had more than enough of you telling me what to do!’
Her chin lifted, her jaw setting mutinously, and he regretted putting his foot in it. Yet at the same time something within him sparked into life.
In the Caribbean they’d connected in ways they hadn’t before. Everything had felt more vital, morereal, as they opened up to the passion that had always run strongly, yet within defined boundaries, between them.
Now, for the first time today, he felt like he’d found that passionate, strong woman again. He didn’t give a damn about her spiky anger. Better that than having her shrink from him. Or try to blank him with that bland stare.
How he’d missed her.
