From Mistresses To Wives?. Lee Wilkinson

Zac hadn’t seen fit to pass on the news of his grandfather’s alleged condition to his mother either. But then, he’d hardly want her to see the marriage as nothing more than a means to an end? Which was all it really was, of course. To do him credit, he’d never tried to make out that love played any real part in the relationship.

      Upstairs in the bedroom, she took off the silk dress and sat down at the dressing mirror in her filmy underwear to renew her make-up. The face gazing back at her looked normal enough, green eyes surprisingly steady. Zac had to know the truth, of course. The realisation that he’d been tricked into this hasty marriage was hardly scheduled to enhance the honeymoon, but she could hardly keep it from him.

      She was still sitting there when the door opened to admit the tall, grey-clad figure. Zac came over to slide both hands over her bare shoulders, pressing a kiss to her nape.

      ‘You look so utterly delicious!’ he said softly. ‘Good enough to eat!’

      Jessica steeled herself as he moved his hands down to the clip of her bra. ‘Not here,’ she protested.

      He laughed and desisted. ‘You’re right. We’ve the whole night ahead of us. I’ll go and get into something a bit less formal. The place we’re staying is very casual. No dressing for dinner. No dressing at all, if we don’t feel like it,’ he tagged on with the wicked sparkle she had always found such a turn on.

      Tell him now, Jessica urged herself as he moved back to the door, but the words wouldn’t come. There was every possibility that he would storm downstairs to demand a reckoning. Better to leave it until later when they were alone.

      Wearing a lightweight suit in pale green, she went downstairs to find Zac ready and waiting with their bags. Isabel took leave of her with a kiss.

      ‘Hope to see you again soon,’ she said.

      Looking tired still, Sarah gave her a hug, laughing over the barrier caused by her ‘bump’. They must get together, the four of them, she declared. Meeting her husband’s eyes over her shoulder, Jessica read a very definite dissension. She doubted, anyway, that Zac would want it.

      She was quiet in the car. Zac turned a quizzical glance after a few miles.

      ‘Lost your voice, have you?’

      ‘It’s been a long day,’ she said.

      ‘It isn’t over yet,’ he returned. ‘I missed you last night, Jess. This morning too.’

      Jessica felt her heart lurch. Would it really hurt, she asked herself, to leave the telling until after the honeymoon? These coming few days with no outside distractions could make all the difference to their relationship. By the time she did tell him, it might not even matter any more.

      ‘Same here,’ she said.

      His smile held a promise. ‘We’ve plenty of time to make up for it.’

      They began doing just that within fifteen minutes of reaching the small but exclusive hotel where Zac had booked the one and only suite. Anticipating an explosive reunion, Jessica was infinitely stirred by the unaccustomed tenderness in his love-making. It gave her hope of a deepening emotion on his part: deep enough, if she worked at it, for the news of his grandfather’s plot to have lost its impact by the time he learned of it.

      They certainly seemed to grow closer during the following days. The hotel was set in five acres of grounds, with miles of countryside beyond that to wander in. The sea was only a half a mile away. Zac went for a swim one morning, scorning Jessica’s view that it was far too chilly at this time of year for more than a paddle.

      ‘It’s bracing,’ he declared. ‘Invigorating!’

      ‘I don’t need invigorating,’ Jessica replied blandly, bringing a glint to the grey eyes.

      She jumped back as he dropped the towel he was using to rub himself down and reached for her, but she was too late. The beads of cold water still adorning his body soaked through her shirt as he pulled her close, his mouth an irresistible force.

      ‘I’m soaked!’ she complained when he let her go.

      ‘Teach you not to underestimate me,’ he said.

      Laughter bubbled on her lips. ‘As if I’d ever do that.’

      There was an answering smile on his lips as he surveyed her. ‘Good thing you brought a jacket.’

      Glancing down at herself, Jessica could see what he meant. With no bra beneath the clinging T-shirt, there was little left to the imagination.

      ‘I feel like a Page Three exhibit!’ she claimed ruefully.

      ‘There’s a hell of a sight more erotica about the way you look right now than in any bare boob display,’ Zac declared.

      It was certainly having a visible effect on him, she noted as he turned away to continue drying himself. Stirring him physically was no problem. She only wished she could be as sure of his inner emotions.

      He hadn’t mentioned his grandfather all week. Nor had he called the house to ask how he was doing. Jessica had begun to wonder if he might have guessed the truth himself. If he had, it obviously didn’t bother him too much, which gave her added hope.

      That particular bubble burst on the Friday evening at dinner, when he expressed relief over the lack of communication.

      ‘Grandmother has the number here,’ he said. ‘She’d have called if anything had happened. We’ll go back and spend the weekend with them, anyway. It could be the last time we see him.’

      Jessica swallowed on the dryness in her throat. Having kept it to herself the whole week made it no easier.

      ‘There’s something you should know,’ she said huskily. ‘Your grandfather isn’t dying. Not in the near future, at any rate.’

      The candlelight was reflected in the eyes boring into hers across the width of the table. ‘What are you talking about?’

      ‘It was all a pretence. A ruse to force you into proving yourself.’

      Zac viewed her for several moments in silence, face blanked of expression. ‘How do you know?’ he asked at length.

      ‘I mentioned it to Brady.’

      ‘Brady!’ The word was explosive.

      ‘He said apart from a touch of angina, your grandfather is strong as an ox,’ she carried on. ‘Something of an overstatement, perhaps, but you have to admit he doesn’t really give the impression of a man on the brink of death.’

      The grey eyes narrowed. ‘You’re saying you suspected he was lying from the first?’

      Jessica shook her head. ‘I just thought he was being very courageous about it. I know you said he could be ruthless, but it didn’t occur to me that anyone could be that ruthless.’

      ‘So why wait till now to tell me?’

      It was the question she’d been dreading. She lifted her shoulders, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. ‘I wasn’t sure how to tell you.’

      ‘So you let me go on thinking there could be a phone call anytime.’

      She forced herself to look at him, heart sinking as she met the chilly gaze. ‘I’m sorry. It just seemed…’ She broke off, spreading her hands in a helpless little gesture. ‘It was too late anyway. The wedding was over.’

      ‘It’s never too late,’ came the brusque response. ‘If you want out—’

      ‘I don’t!’ It was a cry from the heart. ‘Can’t,’ she amended swiftly, afraid of having given too much away. ‘If we break up, there’s a good chance your grandfather will cut you from his will. We were neither of us under any illusion about this marriage to start with, so nothing’s really changed?’

      There was a lengthy pause before Zac responded. It was impossible to tell what thoughts were