Название | The Gold Collection: A Bride For The Taking |
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Автор произведения | Maggie Cox |
Жанр | Контркультура |
Серия | Mills & Boon M&B |
Издательство | Контркультура |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474056014 |
‘I love you too, Mummy … more than anybody else in the whole wide world!’
As she quietly closed the door behind her the distressing sting of tears pressed against her eyelids like a painful burning brand.
Jarrett had been in a foul mood all week. Each day he’d risen practically at dawn to seek refuge in work, and he lingered late in his office when he didn’t have to—just to escape the mocking reality of his empty home. However desirable the executive-style house might appear from the outside, with its panoramic windows, the Ferrari, vintage Bentley and Range Rover parked on the drive outside the garage, and its landscaped gardens encompassing almost three acres of prime countryside, there was no getting away from the fact that inside it had suddenly become too cavernous and empty for him to tolerate being there on his own. With nothing but his despairing thoughts to keep him company, it had become a prison.
Even when his sister had rung to apologise for offending him with her remark about him wanting to get close to Sophia only so that he could buy High Ridge, he’d been too disheartened and impatient to forgive her. Beth’s speculation about the woman he desired rankled even more now that he had discovered that she did indeed have secrets that she’d taken pains to conceal from him.
His mind couldn’t seem to dislodge the disturbing image of her tender expression when she’d gazed up into her lover’s eyes and gently cradled his face between her hands. Up until he’d witnessed that heart-knifing scene Jarrett couldn’t deny that he’d been longing for Sophia to gaze up at him in a similar loving way one day soon. And, even though she’d so cold-heartedly deceived him, he couldn’t totally kill that longing.
At least choosing to work even longer hours had helped ensure he wouldn’t run into her by chance and perhaps be driven to express publicly his anger and disappointment at her deception. He imagined her soft husky tones explaining who the man was, and maybe a beseeching look in her green eyes that begged his understanding and forgiveness. How in hell was he going to deal with that?
About to climb out of the car and step onto his drive, he cursed vehemently, tunnelling his fingers furiously through his hair. At the same time the ominous sound of rumbling thunder made him glance up at the sky, to see the darkening grey dome above him turn to a dramatic blackened violet. Barely a few seconds later heavy rain began pelting everything in sight like indiscriminate machine gun fire.
The fresh string of curses that issued from Jarrett’s lips was even more vehement than the first. Tugging his jacket collar up towards his ears, he hurriedly exited the car and slammed the door shut. He’d be drenched long before he reached the front door. Fine! It suited his already bleak mood to be soaked to the skin and made even colder in body, mind and spirit than he was already.
‘Jarrett!’
For a frozen second he thought he’d imagined Sophia’s voice calling out his name. But when he glanced over his shoulder towards the end of the drive he saw that his imagination wasn’t working overtime. Her slim, rain-coated figure was huddled on the other side of the wrought-iron gates. Her hands were jammed into her pockets and her braided hair was plastered to her head by the violent downpour. Her lovely face was so pale that the exquisite cheekbones seemed to jut through the porcelain skin.
In spite of what she’d done to him Jarrett’s heart slammed against his ribs, and in those arresting few moments his desire for her surmounted all doubt. He took a deep breath in to steady himself.
‘What is it you want from me, Sophia? You’d better tell me quick, before we both drown in this monsoon!’
Through the deluge of heavily falling rain he saw her bite her lip and lift her sodden braids away from her face. ‘Just tell me one thing. Why didn’t you show up on Sunday? Charlie was so upset. You could have at least have had the decency to let us know you weren’t coming.’
‘I’m sorry I let your son down. I really am. But though I fully understand why he was upset, clearly you didn’t suffer the same regret, did you?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You know damn well what I mean!’ He glared at her, clenching his fists down by his sides and shaking his head. ‘You’d better come in. This is ridiculous. We can’t talk out here’
He pressed a button on his keypad to open the electronic gates, refusing to contemplate for a moment that she might refuse his invitation to follow him inside and talk. She owed him that much.
Although her hair and outer clothing were clearly soaked, in no way did Sophia cut a forlorn figure. In fact, as she walked through the open gates towards him she held her head up high as if she didn’t have a damn thing to hide.
He moved quickly towards the smart beechwood front door. Although outside the rain pounded at the building with almost uncanny force, inside the light and airy hall it was suddenly as quiet as a church. Shrugging off his jacket and hanging the soaked garment on the coat rack inside the door, where it dripped into an umbrella stand, Jarrett impatiently stretched out his hand to take Sophia’s coat. Seeing the hesitation in her glance, he bit back his impatience and trusted his expression was benign enough not to make her nervous. Even if she had lied to him, he would never descend to intimidation to vent his anger.
When she didn’t remove her coat, he lowered his hand. ‘Wait here. I’ll go and get a towel for you to dry your hair.’
‘Don’t bother about that. Just answer the question I asked you outside and I won’t take up any more of your valuable time.’
There was a hurt, resentful edge to her tone, and Jarrett wrestled with the sense of injustice it provoked inside him. It beggared belief that she was acting so aggrieved when it was her that had played him for a fool.
‘All right I’ll tell you why you didn’t see me. Although as a matter of fact I did call round.’ Feeling the talons of what he believed was justifiable anger dig into him at the expression of surprise on her face, he slowly crossed his arms over his chest, praying that she wouldn’t try and maintain her innocence to the point of embarrassing herself when she realised he knew the truth. ‘I was about to open the gate when I saw you step outside the house with a man,’ he said, low-voiced. ‘A tall, fair-haired chap. Is he your lover, Sophia? Or perhaps he’s the husband you told me had died?’
‘What?’ Her face had turned the colour of parchment. ‘You say you called and saw me come out of the house with a man?’
‘Yes, I did. I was about to open the gate when I saw him. Who was he? I don’t want any lies. Just tell me the truth.’
Sophia’s limbs were almost too weak to keep her upright for another second. The cold, damp material of her raincoat clung to her, making her shiver hard. She’d left the house in a hurry, unable to stand for a moment longer the torment of not knowing why Jarrett hadn’t called round last Sunday. But it was the bitter disappointment and fury now reflected in his crystal blue gaze that made her tremble even more.
‘For your information, I didn’t consider telling you anything but the truth,’ she insisted, and saw a muscle in the side of his strongly defined cheekbone flinch, as if denoting that he didn’t believe her. ‘The man who you saw me with is not my lover. He’s my brother.’
Her companion’s lightly tanned skin actually blanched, and she saw him swallow hard. ‘Your brother?’
An icy drip of water slid down the back of her neck from her sodden coat collar, but her blood was pumping so hard through her veins that the heat it poured into her body right then meant that she barely even registered it. ‘Yes, he’s my brother. And if you’d had the guts and good manners to open the