THERE was a moment of brittle tension while Mark shook hands with her parents. Then her mother said, ‘Oh, come here.’ And, gathering her up, gave her a big hug before holding her at arm’s length. ‘You look wonderful. And who’s this?’
Shuli, hiding behind her father’s legs, had to be coaxed to say hello. But then Bob hurtled through from the back of the house, wiggling with such excitement that Jane rushed him out into the garden, calling back, ‘He’s going to have an accident if I don’t…’ and grabbing the excuse to catch her breath.
Her father followed her. ‘Your mother was worried, Jane,’ he said, as they watched Bob chase a starling. ‘I can see there was no need. I’ve never seen you look so happy.’
She was. It was totally pathetic that that one little kiss, Mark’s arm around her waist, should make the world seem brand-new. But they had. ‘Everything’s—’ she lifted her hands in a gesture designed to indicate that the world was a wonderful place ‘—perfect.’
‘Then I’m delighted. I was looking forward to walking my little girl up the aisle, though.’
Fortunately Bob chose that moment to race back and show them how happy he was. ‘No! Down, Bob!’ She pulled him off. ‘Sorry, but he’s new. A stray.’
‘He’s going to be a handful.’
‘Just a bit excited to have a new family,’ Mark said, bringing out a tray with glasses and a bottle of champagne. ‘I know how he feels.’ He opened the bottle, poured out the wine. ‘Jennifer.’ Jane blinked to hear her mother addressed by her first name on such short acquaintance. ‘Harry.’
‘Thanks. I was just telling Jane that I’m sorry to have missed out on walking her up the aisle the way I did her sisters.’
Mark handed her a glass with a look that fried her insides. ‘I just couldn’t wait,’ he said, and grinned broadly.
Seriously convincing if you didn’t know that it was all play-acting. Like the arm about her waist, she realised.
And the evening suddenly lost its sparkle. She responded on automatic to her father’s toast, just sipping the champagne before putting the glass down to pick up Shuli, make a fuss of her.
‘Jane?’ She looked up to discover everyone was looking at her.
‘Sorry, did you say something?’
‘I suggested that your parents should stay over. Back me up, here. Tell them we’ve got plenty of room. That it’s crazy to drive all the way home tonight.’
Jane nearly choked on her champagne. Did he realise what he was doing? There was convincing, she thought, and then there was asking for trouble.
‘Really, we can’t,’ her father said quickly, before her mother allowed herself to be persuaded. ‘I have a clinic tomorrow morning. But you must come down for a weekend very soon so that you can meet the rest of the family and we can have a proper celebration. Shuli will love it. There are lots of children and we’re right by the sea.’
‘We can’t leave Bob,’ Jane said, before Mark could do something stupid like say yes.
‘Bring him with you. I don’t suppose one more dog will be noticed, do you? We’ll soon wear him out on the beach. What about the weekend after next?’
‘That sounds wonderful,’ Mark said, before she could leap in with some unbeatable excuse. She was fast running out of excuses. In fact her brain had stopped functioning right after she’d worked out what the arm about the waist had really meant. ‘Shuli has no cousins of her own. It’ll be a whole new world for her. Just what she needs, wouldn’t you say, Jane?’
It was exactly what she’d been saying. Shuli needed a family and her family was the one she’d had in mind. It would have been perfect, but for one small detail.
Fortunately her father made any reply unnecessary. ‘You have no immediate family, Mark?’ he asked.
‘A mother and sister, both too busy putting the world to rights to have much time to spare for mundane things like family life. Shuli’s mother was an only child. Her parents were killed when she was a baby; her grandmother raised her. So it’s just been the two of us.’ He glanced at Jane. ‘Until now.’
‘Well, maybe Shuli will have a new brother or sister of her own very soon,’ her mother suggested.
‘For heaven’s sake, Jennifer, let the girl catch her breath.’ And her lovely, lovely father, well-practised in the art of changing the subject, said, ‘This is a lovely old house, Mark. Not what I’d expected at all. I’ve seen some of your designs and I imagined you’d be living in some minimalist ultra-modern affair constructed from glass and steel. A functional advertisement for your work.’
Only Jane was situated to see the briefest look of pain flicker across Mark’s features before he said, ‘If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go and see what’s happening about dinner.’
‘And I’ll put Shuli to bed. Mum, do you want to come and give me a hand? See the house?’
Jane leaned back against the door. ‘Well, that was different.’
‘I enjoyed myself,’ Mark said. ‘They’re nice people.’
‘I never suggested they weren’t. Just that my mother has high expectations that I’ve never quite lived up to. But what would you have done if they’d accepted your invitation to stay overnight? Since the guest suite is occupied?’
She didn’t wait for his answer. He’d undoubtedly got it all worked out and she didn’t want to hear how she could so easily have hidden out in one of the small rooms on the top floor for tonight and no one would have known a thing about it. Instead, she kicked off her shoes and padded barefoot into the living room to set about gathering the coffee cups.
‘Leave that. Come and put your feet up for a minute.’ He settled on the sofa, patting the seat beside him. But Jane wasn’t in the mood to get cosy. They were on their own; there was no one around he had to convince with his happy families act.
The small touches, the quick conspiratorial smiles. He’d been so good at it. Her parents hadn’t suspected a thing. Now it was just the two of them. Platonically linked, until death did them part. No more need to pretend.
Until the weekend after next.
‘More to the point,’ she continued scratchily, her throat aching from a totally stupid desire to cry. She’d brought this entirely upon herself, after all. ‘What are you going to do on our long meet-the-family weekend? You do realise that we’ll be installed in state in the guest bedroom?’
He took his time, apparently giving the matter considerable thought. ‘Wear pyjamas?’ he offered finally.
That was it. She’d had enough. ‘You’re right, this can wait until the morning. I’m going to bed. Don’t forget to let Bob out for a run.’
She was halfway to the door before it occurred to her that she sounded exactly like a wife. One whose husband needn’t think that she’d be awake when he followed her up the stairs.
Very apt.
‘Jane—’ She turned in the doorway. Mark had put his feet up on the sofa and with his hands laced behind his head was stretched out with his eyes closed. ‘Sleep well.’
Mark couldn’t sleep. He’d forgotten how it felt to have a woman burning mad at him. The boiling mixture of emotions that could be blown away in the kind of sex that started as a fight and ended in hot, sweet, forgive-me lovemaking.
And the only woman he had in his head was Jane.
He didn’t understand it. A week ago he’d scarcely been aware of Jane as a woman at all. Now her scent clung to him, even here in his own bed, evoking the silk of her skin against his fingers.
That flash of anger in her eyes when he’d mentioned Caroline. The soft, dark look of surprise when he’d kissed the frown from her forehead. And his mind just wouldn’t let go of that early-morning picture, of full soft lips just begging to be kissed.
How many times today had he come close to kissing her? Just taking her in his arms and kissing her with no thought of the past? Half a dozen times. And when she’d stormed up to bed it had taken every ounce of will-power not to follow her and suggest they give the double bed a practise run.
He gave up on sleep and flung himself out of bed to pace the carpet.
That kind of response didn’t happen overnight. Not with someone you’d known for years. It had to have been there, growing unseen, like bulbs forced into flower for Christmas. Kept in the dark while they built up a strong root system, they burst into flower within days of being brought into the light.
Jane wasn’t conventionally beautiful. She wasn’t the kind of girl who’d ever turn heads. But her kindness and generosity were qualities that touched even the most moribund of hearts and, unlike beauty, would never fade. They already had the LTR, a long-term relationship based on trust and respect. It had simply needed light to flower into something deeper.
Now all he had to do was find some way to demonstrate his feelings. And to help Jane forget whatever pain had driven her to contemplate a platonic marriage.
He remembered what she’d said about diamonds. Guaranteed to convince. But that was to convince other people. No, it needed a larger, more personal gesture, something that she couldn’t possibly misinterpret.
As he turned he stepped on something sharp. A hairpin. He bent and picked it up. Then looked around. Jane had been in here? That was why her scent lingered in the air?
He groaned as he realised that she must have scattered her possessions around to convince her mother. Her brush, her hairpins. He crossed swiftly to the bed and, pulling off the pillows, was assailed by the delicate scent she’d been wearing. Her nightdress. Her nightdress had been here in his bed. The very thought of it inflamed a passion he’d thought long dead.
Reaching for his robe, he went down to his study. He might as well catch up with work. There was no way he was sleeping tonight.