WHILE Dan was away on his travels Joss threw herself into her work with a zest which had been missing since Peter’s departure. Colleagues noticed, and teased, but Joss refused to give details. For the moment her new, fledgling relationship with Daniel Armstrong was a secret she hugged to herself, unable to discuss it with anyone except Anna, who approved heartily, particularly since Dan was a friend of a friend of Hugh.
Until her broken engagement Joss had been utterly sure of her goals in life, confident that she was liked and even respected by her colleagues, and loved by Peter Sadler. But she had been wrong about the last, and in the recesses of her mind a little seed of insecurity refused to wither and die. Until she was officially living with Dan Armstrong she would keep their relationship private. But in the meantime, when her training overcame her reluctance to pry, she did some in-depth research on the man who’d made such a success of Athena.
Because Daniel Armstrong shunned publicity, Joss discovered little more about him than she already knew, other than his phenomenal success. She read a lot about his aim to provide buildings which blended with their environment, but the only photographs were shots of Dan at race-meetings, or in the financial section, with none of him on the town with beautiful women. Dan had obviously been truthful when he’d told her he was no party animal.
To her great satisfaction Dan rang Joss every night, and always ended the conversation by reminding her that her breathing space was one day less.
‘Have you missed me?’ he demanded, towards the end of the week.
‘Yes.’
‘How much?’
‘A lot. Yet this time last week I thought we’d never meet again.’
‘That, Joscelyn Hunter, was never a possibility. I would have found you eventually, even if I’d had to hire someone to do it for me.’
‘Would you really have done that?’
‘Damn right I would.’
She paused. ‘Was it just because we were so good in bed together?’
Dan’s chuckle sent the familiar trickle down her spine. ‘I would be lying if I said it wasn’t part of it, but there’s a whole lot more than that. So get yourself in the mood to move as quickly as you can. Patience isn’t my strongest point.’
The week was a particularly busy one, for which Joss was grateful. Even so the days seemed to go by far more slowly than usual, and Saturday refused to come quickly. It was useless to tell herself to stop it, that she was a mature, level-headed woman. One, moreover, who only recently had expected to marry Peter Sadler. Was this purely a rebound thing? On Friday night Joss shook her head at her reflection in the mirror. If she were totally honest—and it was her honesty that Dan particularly admired—it was a good thing she hadn’t met him before Peter’s departure. Otherwise she might have been the one who’d left Peter, rather than the other way round. Shaken by this discovery, Joss faced the truth. The persistence which she brought both to her job and her private life had made her fight to keep her relationship with Peter alive long after it had shown unmistakable signs of faltering. When Peter finally left her pride had taken the beating, not her heart.
Joss took a quick shower and went to bed early with a book, too restless to watch television. But instead of reading she kept scowling at the telephone beside her bed, willing it to ring. She stretched out in the bed, clasping her hands behind her head, and stared at the ceiling. Living alone had lost its attraction very quickly. Dan’s fault entirely. He was such a big man in every way that his absence left a space impossible to fill. But moving in with him was a risky proposition. Relationships changed. As she knew. After a while Dan might want out, just as Peter had. She’d known Peter for years, and her time with Dan could be measured in hours, but she had a strong suspicion that recovering from a break-up with Dan would be a lot less easy. Maybe not even possible.
Joss gave up trying to sleep in favour of tea and a book. When she was on her way to the kitchen the doorbell rang, and her heart leapt. Joss ran to the door, picked up the receiver and spoke into it, her heart thudding as she heard Dan’s voice.
‘I couldn’t wait until tomorrow,’ he said tersely.
Joss pressed the buzzer for answer, and a minute later Dan came bounding up the stairs to snatch her up into his arms and kiss her until her head was reeling. When he released her at last, he grinned down at her striped nightshirt. ‘So that’s what you wear to bed.’
Joss laughed, secretly glorying in his impatience to see her. ‘You mean you came round here at this time of night just to find out what I wear to bed?’
‘No. I came,’ he said very deliberately, ‘because I couldn’t wait another minute to hold you in my arms.’
‘Good,’ said Joss, her matter-of-fact tone at odds with the tattoo her heart was beating under the cotton. ‘Are you hungry?’
Dan picked her up and sat down on the sofa, settling her comfortably on his lap. ‘Not for food. I ate on the plane.’ He smoothed her head against his shoulder and let out a deep sigh of satisfaction. ‘So, tell me about your week, Miss Hot-Shot Journalist.’
Joss obliged, telling him about the various assignments she’d been given, of the photographs taken at Eastlegh, and, in the end, confessed that she’d done some research into the career of Daniel Armstrong, founder of Athena Developments. She raised her face to look at him. ‘Do you mind?’
He shook his head. ‘No. Because you told me about it. The women in my past rarely considered candour important. You, my darling, are different.’
Elated by the endearment, Joss ran a hand along his jaw. ‘You need a shave,’ she said huskily.
‘I need a lot of things,’ he said, grinning down at her.
She frowned at him in mock disapproval. ‘You might have rung first. I could have had a visitor.’
Dan’s eyes narrowed menacingly. ‘Another man?’
‘Of course not! I was thinking of Anna. Or I could have been hosting the occasional get-together with some fellow journalists—female variety.’ Joss freed herself from his arms and sat upright, her eyes steady on his. ‘Listen, Dan. There were men in my life before Peter Sadler. But only one at a time. And no one since. Except you. I thought you might have taken that for granted after—after last weekend.’
‘Pax!’ Dan pulled her down into his arms, rubbing his cheek against her hair. ‘I apologise—humbly.’
‘You, humble?’ Joss snorted inelegantly.
‘Yes,’ he said flatly. ‘I never knew what jealousy meant before you, Joss. All the time I was trying to bring canny, hard-headed Scots round to my way of thinking I kept wondering what you were doing, and who you were doing it with. Your face kept getting between me and the matter in hand.’
‘I’m flattered.’ Joss slid her arms round him under his jacket. ‘But bear with me, Dan. Let’s go on seeing each other for a while before I burn my boats.’
Dan tipped her face up to his. ‘Don’t you fancy living with me?’
‘Of course I do. A lot. But I’m not normally the type to throw caution to the winds. Nor,’ she added, ‘are you the type of man to respect me if I did.’
‘True,’ he conceded. ‘All right. You win. I won’t push. For the moment, anyway. So where do you want to go tomorrow?’
‘The forecast is good.’ Joss smiled at him coaxingly. ‘Could we just go somewhere and walk in the fresh air?’
‘No restaurants or smart nightspots?’ he mocked, tracing a fingertip over her bottom lip. ‘A pearl among women!’
‘You don’t care for that kind of thing, according to my research.’
‘I don’t. I would very much enjoy walking with you.’ He looked at her for a moment. ‘I live near Kew Gardens. We can walk there, then I could feed you at my place afterwards. Perhaps it might tempt you to move sooner.’
Joss nodded. ‘Sounds good. I’d like that.’
‘Done,’ said Dan, and yawned widely. ‘Sorry.’ He stood up with her in his arms, then set her on her feet. ‘Time I was off.’
She stared at him blankly.
He smiled. ‘You obviously thought I meant to stay the night. Which, of course, I would very much prefer to driving back to Kew. For obvious reasons. But if I stay you’ll be convinced that bed was all I came for. And it wasn’t.’
Joss was assailed by a variety of emotions, elation and disappointment battling for supremacy as she followed Dan down to the door. At the foot of the stairs he took her in his arms and kissed her.
‘Sleep well. I’ll collect you in the morning.’
‘But I can drive myself to Kew—’
‘No. I’ll come for you,’ he said flatly, then kissed her again. ‘Aren’t you proud of me?’ he said against her lips. ‘Awestruck by my restraint?’
‘Absolutely,’ she agreed, and kissed him lingeringly to show her admiration.
‘That’s not fair,’ Dan said hoarsely, but he kissed her again at length before he finally made it through the door, leaving Joss to wander back upstairs in a daze of happiness.
That night marked the beginning of a relationship which very swiftly became such a vital part of Joss’s life it effectively blotted out her time with Peter Sadler. Sometimes it was hard to remember she’d shared her life with anyone other than Daniel Adam Francis Armstrong. They saw each other as much as their various lifestyles allowed, and when Joss was obliged to cancel at the last minute, due to the demands of her job, the only objections raised by Dan were his opposition to her continued residence in Acton.
‘I’m tired of having you with me in small doses,’ he said, late one hot, starlit Sunday night. ‘If you lived here we would at least come home to each other. Actual time spent together is a very small percentage of our acquaintance, Miss Hunter. Too damn small. I want more. A lot more.’
They were lying together on a wicker chaise longue in the walled courtyard behind Dan’s home in Kew. The house was large and very private behind tall, dense hedges in a quiet side-road that could have been in the country instead of near the famous gardens. Joss adored everything about the house. She had been trying to bring herself to leave for the past half-hour, knowing what Dan’s reaction would be. Every time they parted his arguments grew more persuasive.
‘I’ll put the flat on the market tomorrow,’ she said suddenly, and said no more for some time as Dan seized her in his arms and kissed her by way of demonstrating his triumph at her surrender.
‘You mean that?’ he said eventually.
Joss nodded, too breathless even to say yes.
‘Why now?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve been persuading—’
‘Bullying,’ she corrected.
‘I’ve been persuading you for weeks,’ he went on, shaking her slightly. ‘What’s so special about tonight?’
‘Because in a minute I’ve got to drive back to Acton, and I don’t want to.’
‘At last,’ he said smugly. ‘The lady admits she hates the thought of leaving me.’
‘Oh, it’s not you,’ lied Joss shamelessly. ‘It’s the house.’
‘Witch!’ His voice deepened to the note which always melted her bones. ‘As long as you come and share it with me I’ll try not to be jealous of it.’ He laughed. ‘Listen to me! I never imagined a woman lived who could change me so much.’ He tipped her face up to his. ‘Tell me the truth. Were you jealous when you saw me with Serena at Ascot?’
‘Horribly. Which is why I ran away. I couldn’t bear the sight of you together.’
Dan kissed her hard by way of appreciation. ‘As a matter of interest, did you feel jealous where Sadler was concerned?’
Joss thought about it for a moment. ‘No,’ she said, surprised. ‘Never. Nor about anyone else, either. I’ve always disapproved of jealousy.’
‘Including mine?’
‘No.’ She smiled up at him. ‘I like that a lot. Very ego-boosting.’
He laughed, and pulled her bodily into his lap. ‘I know other ways to boost your ego. Want me to demonstrate?’
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Otherwise I’ll never leave.’
‘I know!’
‘Dan, please, I’ve got work tomorrow; it’s time I went—’ Joss stopped mid-sentence. ‘I was going to say time I went home,’ she said, looking up into his eyes. ‘But from the day you brought me here your house feels like home. Not the flat.’
‘Then move in with me tomorrow,’ he said urgently. ‘To hell with the flat. Let an estate agent sell it for you.’
Joss was sorely tempted, but in the end she shook her head. ‘Don’t be angry with me, Dan, but I’d like to stay there until it’s sold. Organise it myself. I need to be in control of my own life. It’s a big step from living alone to dependence on you for the roof over my head.’
Dan looked down at her in silence for a moment. ‘Joss,’ he said slowly, ‘it’s a house, not a cage. And you’ll have your own key. And live your life the way you want to. The only difference will be sharing your spare time, and my bed, with me. I did mention that bed was part of the arrangement?’ he added.
‘Why else do you think I’m moving in?’ she said, smiling provocatively as she jumped up.
He leapt to his feet and took her in his arms, laughing. ‘Do I take that as a compliment?’
‘You certainly do,’ she assured him, and held up her face for his kiss.
For the next week Joss spent any spare time left over from Dan and her job in cleaning and polishing the flat to maximum allure for potential buyers. The estate agent she contacted was optimistic about a quick sale, and, having burnt her boats, Joss called Anna to tell her about the move.
‘Well, hello,’ said Anna, when Joss rang. ‘I thought maybe you’d emigrated.’
‘Sorry, love. I’ve been a bit busy lately.’
‘This Dan of yours must be really something. Bring him down to see us so the Herricks—and Hugh, of course—can make sure he’s good enough for you.’
‘Sorry,’ said Joss, laughing. ‘It’s too late for that.’
‘Why?’
‘For your ears only, Anna, I’m head over heels in love with him,’ Joss blurted, putting the truth into words for the first time. ‘In fact the moment I’ve sold the flat I’m moving into his house in Kew.’
‘I thought you might,’ said Anna jubilantly. ‘Oh, Joss, I’m so happy for you. And very glad you’ve recovered from Peter. By the way, I met him outside his father’s office in Stratford the other day.’
‘How was he?’
‘Very much on the defensive with me, as usual. But he asked about you, so I took great pleasure in telling him about your relationship with Dan Armstrong. But never mind Peter. Come down to lunch one Sunday. Mother misses you. So do I. Bring Daniel to the lions’ den. We won’t eat him.’
‘You couldn’t,’ chuckled Joss. ‘He’s too big.’
‘Seriously, Joss, we’d love to see you. Will he come?’
‘I’ll ask him, and let you know. But thank your mother for me and give her my love, your father, too. And tell Hugh the article on Eastlegh Hall was a great success. Lord Morville—Francis—is a charmer.’
‘So Hugh says. But if your Dan is a friend of his, how come Hugh doesn’t know him?’
Joss explained, promised to drive down to Warwickshire with Dan as soon as possible, then rang off and took advantage of a rare early night alone.
Because Dan was tied up with problems about his riverside complex Joss showed several people round the immaculate flat during mid-week evenings. Afterwards the agent told her there was a lot of interest in the property, but she could sell it at once if she were willing to drop the price a trifle. Joss wouldn’t hear of it. She wanted the full asking price as a nest-egg, and eventually one of the prospective purchasers agreed to pay the full amount as long as they could move in as soon as possible.
‘I’ve done it!’ said Joss in triumph when Dan rang later that night. ‘I’ve sold the flat.’
‘Already?’ He whistled. ‘Did you give way on the price?’
‘No way.’
‘Good! So when are you moving in with me?’
‘As soon as I exchange contracts,’ she promised. ‘The purchasers want immediate possession.’
‘So do I!’ he said, the note in his voice as tactile as a caress.
‘I’ll drive to Kew as early as I can on Friday evening,’ she promised breathlessly.
‘That’s forty-eight hours away,’ he said gloomily. ‘I hate Thursdays.’
‘Since I met you I’m not keen on them either, but it’s my job, Dan.’
‘I know, I know. Make sure you get off early on Friday.’ His voice deepened. ‘I’m impatient to have you here with me all the time.’
‘I’ll still have to work late.’
‘But afterwards you’ll come home to me, my darling.’
Joss went to bed smiling, her happiness complete except for one tiny flaw. Dan made it very plain at all times that he respected her intelligence, and liked being with her whatever they were doing, quite apart from their physical rapport and the shameless amount of time they spent in bed. But he’d never said a word about love. He just found it hard to express his feelings, she assured herself. She could understand that. Up to now she’d been the same. But recently it had taken every ounce of self-control she possessed not to express her own feelings when they made love.
Thursday was even more hectic than usual, and it was very late by the time Joss got back to Acton. She unlocked the door and climbed the stairs wearily, longing for a hot bath and some beauty sleep in preparation for seeing Dan next day. While she was exchanging her clothes for a towelling robe the doorbell rang, and she smiled radiantly, forgetting her fatigue. So Dan hadn’t been able to wait after all. She ran to lift the receiver.
‘Impatient man!’ she said lovingly. ‘Come up.’
But the man who came through the door at the foot of the stairs was slim and fair, and half the size of Daniel Armstrong. As he ran up towards her the triumphant smile on Peter Sadler’s face made Joss want to slap it.
‘What are you doing here?’ she said furiously. ‘How did you find out my address?’
‘I met Anna recently. She let slip that you lived in Acton, and because the Holts now live in our place I made an educated guess,’ he said airily.
‘I’m sorry you went to the trouble,’ she said curtly, ‘because you can’t stay. I’m tired and I want to get to bed.’
He pushed back a lock of fair hair, eyeing her narrowly. ‘You’ve changed, Joss. You’ve grown hard.’
She stood with arms folded, her eyes implacable on his fair, good-looking face, secretly astonished that she’d once imagined her happiness depended on him.
‘I would have got in touch before, but you wouldn’t answer my messages,’ he said, moving nearer. ‘When you wrote you didn’t give your address, so I couldn’t even thank you for sending the furniture back, or the cheque.’
‘If you’ve come to do that now, fine,’ snapped Joss. ‘But right now I need to get to bed.’
‘Not yet. Joss, listen to me. I made a mistake,’ he said, astonishing her. ‘I want you back.’
She stared at him blankly. ‘You must be joking!’
Peter’s eyes narrowed dangerously. ‘Not a thing to joke about. After the Athena rejection things got out of proportion for a while. But I’ve had time to reconsider—’
‘So have I,’ said Joss quickly. ‘And you were right, Peter. I have changed. When you left I made a new life. And I much prefer it to the old one. There’s no place in it for you.’
His eyes narrowed in sudden malevolence. ‘So you’re telling me you feel nothing for me?’
‘You did a great hatchet job on my feelings,’ she reminded him coldly. ‘Now I think of you—when I think of you at all—as part of a growing-up process.’
‘I’d hardly describe it like that, Joss,’ he sneered. ‘You’re thirty-two years old.’
‘True,’ she said unmoved. ‘I wasted a lot of time on you.’
Peter moved like lightning, seizing her by the elbows. ‘I could make you want me again!’
‘Oh, please,’ said Joss, deliberately bored—something she regretted as Peter dragged her close with a show of strength which took her by surprise. He ground his mouth against hers and, enraged, Joss tried to break free. But one of Peter’s stylish boots landed on her bare foot, and she let out a choked cry of pain as they collapsed on the sofa in a writhing mass of arms and legs. Peter Sadler was slim, but wiry, and in his present mood Joss found she was no match for him. He flattened himself on top of her, one hand cruelly tight in her hair as he smothered her protests with his mouth, the other pushing the robe away to get at her breasts. Joss shuddered with distaste, bracing herself to break free. Then Peter raised his head and smiled in pure triumph, and she gave a gasp of horror as she saw Dan at the head of the stairs, staring at them in disbelief. Joss clutched her robe together, reaching out a hand in entreaty, but with a look which stabbed her to the heart Dan turned his back and left as silently as he’d arrived.
Peter got to his feet at once, holding out his hand to Joss as politely as though the assault of a minute before had never happened.
‘Get out!’ she spat.
‘Certainly,’ he said, smoothing his hair. ‘Sorry I was rough.’
‘I should call the police,’ she said bitterly.
‘Not much point in that, Joss.’ He smiled blandly. ‘I didn’t rape you.’
Joss shook with rage, wanting to throw him out bodily so she could run after Dan. But Dan, she realised hopelessly, would be well on his way to Kew by now.
‘Why, Peter?’ she flung at him, tightening the belt on her robe.
‘I had my reasons,’ he said enigmatically, and looked at his watch. ‘From a personal point of view my visit has been a great success. But time I was off.’ He went to the head of the stairs, then gave her a smile which clenched her hands into claws. ‘I’m so sorry your visitor got the wrong impression.’
‘No, you’re not,’ Joss stalked towards him with menace, feeling fierce satisfaction as he backed away, the smile suddenly wiped from his face. ‘Get out of my life, Peter. And this time stay out.’
Peter looked at her for a moment, opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it as he met the look in her eyes, and ran downstairs without a word. After the door had clicked shut behind him Joss felt cold with reaction. Shivering, she clutched her arms across her chest, eyeing the phone with longing. But Dan wouldn’t be home yet. And what she had to say was impossible to leave as a message. To pass the time, and get warm again, she soaked in a bath as hot as she could bear, desperate to remove the soiled feeling left by Peter’s hands. The hands whose caresses she had once welcomed. Joss ground her teeth in angry frustration, able to recognise, now she had time to think, that Peter’s assault had been punitive, and nothing at all to do with love, or even sex. But why was he punishing her? He was the one who’d walked out.
Joss ran water over her head for a long time in the urge to feel clean, but at last swathed a towel round her head, wrapped herself in another, then went to the phone to ring Dan and found the red light glowing. She pressed the button, then stood in disbelief, listening to the message Dan had left while she’d washed her hair.
‘I’m glad you’re not there,’ he said, in a tone which tore her to pieces. ‘If you intended ringing me with explanations, don’t. It’s finished between us. Nothing you can say will make any difference.’
Joss rang his number just the same, convinced that she could make him understand if he’d only listen. But the only response was his recorded message.
‘Dan, pick up the phone,’ she said unevenly. ‘Please listen to me. I can explain. Please!’ She rang again, several times during the next hour, and at last, disgusted with herself for pleading, Joss gave up and went to bed, to lie awake in dry-eyed misery too intense for tears.
Early next morning Joss rang Dan again, but with the same result. Then she rang his office, and was told by his personal assistant that Mr Armstrong had given instructions that he was unavailable to Miss Hunter, or any other reporter. At least, she thought dully, he’d added the face-saving bit about reporters. After an hour of coming to terms with unwelcome reality, Joss rang the estate agent and told him she no longer wished to sell. And at work, when told she looked like death, she lied about an oncoming cold and got through the day as best she could.
When she got home she rang Anna, to say, as flippantly as possible, that she wouldn’t be bringing Dan down after all, but if the Herricks would put up with a very depressed guest, she would take them up on their offer of Sunday lunch.
‘Dan walked out on me,’ Joss said baldly.
‘Oh, Joss, no!’ said Anna, horrified. ‘Drive down in the morning and stay the weekend. Hugh’s gone off on a cricket tour, so come and be cosseted.’
At first Joss demurred, unable to quench a little flicker of hope that Dan might have a change of heart and contact her. But in the end she accepted Anna’s invitation, grateful for an alternative to a weekend spent alone in the flat. Only a short time ago she’d expected to spend it in Dan’s company, in Dan’s arms, in Dan’s bed. Something which, he’d made very clear, would never happen again.