The Lost Wife. Maggie Cox

under-floor heating and every available comfort. Instead she had stubbornly opted for this too isolated cottage. Charming as it was, it wasn’t the home he wanted his daughter to grow up in …

      Rubbing his hands briskly together to warm them, he diverted this disturbing line of thought by wondering how soon he could get a flight back to Copenhagen today. Mulling over the possibilities—or not as the case might be—he shoved aside the patchwork quilt that covered the silk-edged woollen blankets and strode over to the window. Lifting a corner of the heavily lined floral curtain, Jake stared out at the incredible scene that confronted him with a mixture of frustration, disappointment and sheer bewildering astonishment.

       As far as the eye could see and beyond everything was deeply blanketed in brilliant diamond-white. And fierce gusts of wind were making the still falling snow swirl madly like dervishes. Unless he could sprout wings and fly there’d be no getting out of here today. In any case, all the planes at the airport would surely be grounded in such Siberian weather.

      ‘Damn!’

      He stood there in black silk pyjama bottoms, his hard-muscled chest bare, and willed himself to come up with a plan. But even as he seriously considered phoning his helicopter pilot back in Copenhagen he remembered the lack of service yesterday for both landlines and mobiles in the area. The current extreme weather conditions didn’t bode well for the service returning any time soon. The helicopter option was clearly off the agenda. As he bit back his increasing frustration, a tentative knock at the door made Jake’s heart race.

      ‘Jake, are you up and about yet? I was wondering if you’d like a cup of tea?’

      Instead of answering, he crossed to the door and pulled it wide. Her dark hair flowing down over her shoulders, slightly mussed as if she’d had a restless night, Ailsa stood in front of him like some wide-eyed ingénue in a kimonostyle red silk dressing gown. She barely looked out of her teens, let alone the mother of a nine-year-old. Disconcertingly, that old sense of fierce protectiveness that he’d always felt around her came flooding back.

      ‘Never mind me. You look like you could do with a hot drink to warm you up,’ he told her gruffly. ‘Why doesn’t your heating come on earlier? Have you seen the weather outside? It’s freezing in here.’

      ‘The boiler is on a timer. And, yes, I have seen the weather. I don’t think the snow has let up all night. But it’s not surprising you’re cold, standing there with barely a stitch on!’

      Jake couldn’t prevent the grin that hijacked his lips. ‘You know I don’t sleep with much on. Or had you forgotten that?’

      ‘You didn’t say whether you wanted a cup of tea or not,’ she persisted doggedly, clutching the sides of the silk dressing gown more closely together and concealing her face by letting her hair fall across it.

      But not before Jake saw that she was blushing. He experienced a very male sense of satisfaction at that. It was good to know that he could still get a reaction from her, despite all the muddied water flowing under the bridge between them …

      ‘I definitely wouldn’t say no to a hot drink of some kind. But let me take a shower first and dress before I join you downstairs.’

      ‘Okay.’ The slim shoulders lifted, then fell again before she turned away. As Jake closed the door on Ailsa’s retreating back, she swung round again. ‘Shall I cook breakfast for you as well?’

      He hesitated. Purely because he’d just noticed the smudged violet shadows beneath her eyes that clarified his belief that she probably hadn’t slept. ‘I don’t want to put you to any trouble,’ he said huskily.

      A fleeting smile curved the pretty lips he’d so loved kissing—still dreamed of kissing from time to time, whenever he tortured himself with thinking back to what they’d had.

      ‘It’s no trouble.’ She continued on her way down the landing and the gentle womanly sway of her hips made Jake’s heart ache.

      CHAPTER THREE

      EMERGING from the living room, flustered and hot after making up the fire with some freshly cut applewood logs, Ailsa brushed her dusty hands down over her jeans and glanced up at the very same moment that Jake descended the staircase. No matter how many times she’d seen him … lived with him, loved him … it still gave her heart a jolt to be confronted with the sheer physicality of his presence. He was dressed much more casually this morning than yesterday, his long muscular legs encased in softly napped light blue denims, and he wore a white tee shirt beneath a black V-necked wool sweater. His sun-kissed hair looked as if it had been finger combed rather than brushed, and when he turned towards her and smiled his clear blue eyes were no less a magnet for her than they’d always been.

       She didn’t even notice the cruel scar on his cheek because her attention was so consumed by his gaze.

      ‘I’ll put the kettle on again and make some tea. I’m sorry if I’m a bit behind with the breakfast but I had to make up the fire. Did you sleep all right?’

      ‘Like a baby,’ he drawled. ‘That’s one hell of a comfortable bed.’

      ‘When you consider that most people spend half their lifetime in bed, a comfortable one has got to be pretty essential, don’t you think?’ Argh! She was babbling because she was suddenly inexplicably nervous around him. And, however innocent, the last topic in the world she wanted to discuss with her charismatic ex-husband was bed!

      When Jake merely grinned instead of commenting, as though he knew very well how uncomfortable she was, Ailsa quickly tore her glance away and headed down the hall to the kitchen. Her house guest followed her. She quickly washed her hands, then flicked on the switch to boil the kettle again. She was reaching for a couple of pottery mugs from the dresser when Jake pulled out a chair at the breakfast table and sat down. Knowing that his interested gaze trailed her every move, she grew more and more discomfited. Although she was tense and on edge in his company, she knew that if she turned round right then her ex wouldn’t be displaying any such similar tension. When he did relax he turned it almost into an art form. His athletic body knew how to lounge to mouthwatering effect … even in a hard-backed kitchen chair.

      Ailsa bit back a sigh. Deciding to bite the bullet, she made herself bring up the subject that had been at the forefront of her mind since waking that morning and seeing the breathtaking result of last night’s heavy snowfall.

      ‘If you were hoping to get to the airport today I don’t think much of your chances.’

      ‘Neither do I,’ he agreed. The smooth skin between his brows puckered. ‘Have you checked to see if there’s a phone line yet?’

      Ailsa grimaced. ‘Yes, I have … it’s still out, I’m afraid.’

      ‘Damn!’

       The harsh-voiced comment didn’t do a lot for her confidence. Had he come to dislike her so much that the thought of spending any more time than necessary in her company was abhorrent to him?

      ‘I feel just as frustrated that I can’t talk to Saskia,’ she murmured. Realising that the kettle had boiled, she swallowed down her hurt, then busied herself making the tea. She took Jake’s over to him at the table. ‘Help yourself to sugar. I’m going to get on with cooking your breakfast.’

      ‘Are you going to join me?’

      ‘I don’t eat much in the morning. I’ll probably just make myself a slice of toast.’

      ‘Just toast? Is that all you have for breakfast?’

      ‘Usually, yes.’

      ‘Then it’s no wonder you’ve lost weight.’

      ‘Anything else you’ve noticed about me?’ she asked, stung. It hardly made sense since they weren’t together any more, Ailsa knew, but the notion that he might find her skinny and unattractive upset her. Yes, she’d always been on the slender side, but before the accident she’d