Название | The Lost Wife |
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Автор произведения | Maggie Cox |
Жанр | Современные любовные романы |
Серия | |
Издательство | Современные любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn |
Jake’s steady, unwavering glance told her he was considering the question deeply. ‘Yes. You’re even more beautiful than I remember.’
‘No, I’m not.’ Her arms went protectively around her middle. ‘Events have inevitably shaped me, and I’m very aware that I’m a little too thin and tired-looking. I’m twenty-eight, but sometimes I feel more like a hundred.’
‘That’s just crazy talk.’
‘It’s not that I even mind really.’ She shrugged. ‘As long as I have the energy to work and take care of Saskia, that’s all that matters.’
Ailsa hadn’t realised that he had risen to his feet until he stood in front of her, tipping up her chin to make her look at him. His eyes were such a searing sapphire-blue they were nearly the undoing of her. Had his lashes always been that long and lustrous? He was standing so close that surely he must hear the sound of her galloping heart?
‘You might be tired, but you’re not too thin and you certainly don’t look old before your time. As a matter of fact I thought when I saw you yesterday how incredibly young you still are. Perhaps you were too young when I married you, hmm?’
Softly smoothing back her hair from her forehead, the palm that glanced against her skin was slightly rough edged, yet infinitely soft at the same time. Like velvet.Along with his deep, mellow voice, it almost lulled her into believing that everything that was wrong between them could be set right again.
Where had that dangerous notion sprung from? The idea was as self-destructive as hoping for sanctuary in a burning house …
As if coming out of a trance, Ailsa stepped back from Jake to cross her arms protectively over her chest, almost as if guarding her heart. ‘Are you saying that you regret our marriage?’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘I’m not saying that at all. Why do you always have to go on the defensive and believe the worst?’
Now her gaze was unwavering. ‘Because some days it’s hard to believe in anything good any more,’ she told him honestly.
‘It grieves me that you feel like that.’ Sighing heavily, Jake narrowed his gaze. ‘We had some good times when we were together, don’t you remember?’
‘We did … But then we made the painful mistake of believing we had a wonderful future in prospect … you, our children and I. Look what happened to that particular little fantasy.’
Why did she do this? Go for the jugular every time? Hearing the despair in her voice made Jake feel as though his heart was being slashed to ribbons again … just as his hands had been in the accident, when he’d reached for Ailsa to protect her from the splintering glass and jagged metal that the drunken driver had recklessly and devastatingly reduced their car to, killing their beloved baby in the process. He’d already had to bear the unbearable … how long did the fates intend him to suffer?
In an agony of pain and frustration he squeezed his eyes momentarily shut. When he opened them again Ailsa had already moved back to the stove to cook breakfast. Staring at the glorious waterfall of long dark hair that waved down her back, he wanted to step up behind her, pull her too-slender form hard into his body and never let her go. Instead he glanced out of the window in front of her to see an even heavier curtain of snow descending from the cobweb-grey skies.
‘Is there to be no end to this godforsaken weather today?’
He made no attempt to disguise the anger and despondency in his tone, and Ailsa glanced round at him. ‘I know you can’t wait to be gone, to be back in Copenhagen again … but you’re going to be utterly miserable if you can’t accept the fact that right now you’re stuck here for a while. Just as I have to accept the fact that Saskia won’t be with me for another week.’
‘Make me feel even worse than I do already, why don’t you? Don’t you think I feel bad enough, showing up here without her? My mother and she were so adamant they wanted to be together for a little while longer, and I thought why not? Where’s the harm? I thought surely you’d understand for once, but instead you’re regarding me like I’ve committed the crime of the bloody century!’
‘Jake, I—’
There was a loud hammering on the front door that made them both start.
‘Who the hell is that?’
There was only one person it could be in this unbelievable weather, Ailsa realized. And she knew his appearance probably wasn’t going to help ease the current friction between her and Jake. Wiping her hands down the front of the apron she wore, which was patterned with tiny red robins in honor of the season, she hurried out into the hall.
Stamping his feet on the doorstep, trying to shake off some of the frost and snow that caked his boots and fur-lined parka, was the handsome, dark-haired son of the farmer who was her closest neighbour.
‘Good morning, Ailsa.’
‘Linus, what are you doing here?’
‘I’ve brought you some eggs, milk and bread to help tide you over until you can get to the shops again. Nothing can move out there except the tractor. Are you okay? I was worried about you and Saskia being here all on your own.’
‘I’m absolutely fine, thanks—and Saskia’s still with her grandmother in Copenhagen. It’s very good of you to come and check up on us like this.’
‘What are neighbours for?’ A friendly grin split his lips, showing well-tended white teeth. ‘Just a second and I’ll go and grab those provisions.’
As she waited for him to return to the impressive red tractor that was steadily being drowned in even more layers of thick snow Ailsa clapped her hands together to warm them. The frosted air was literally like ice.
‘Shall I take it through to the kitchen?’ her visitor suggested, returning with a medium-sized cardboard container.
‘Yes, please.’ Forcing a smile to her lips, Ailsa sensed apprehension seep into the pit of her stomach at the thought that he was going to come face to face with her ex-husband.
There was nothing but casual friendship between her and the farmer’s son—she’d never even remotely felt like advancing their association into anything more meaningful—but somehow, even though they’d been apart for a long time, she knew Jake would immediately jump to conclusions. The wrong conclusions … He’d always had a propensity to be jealous. But, although he had clearly entertained the possibility of another relationship, after that reference he’d made to women thinking he looked ‘piratical’, Ailsa hadn’t. How could she not welcome in a friendly neighbour who had been so thoughtful? That was just plain bad manners in her book. The least she could do was make Linus a cup of tea to warm him up before sending him off on his journey home.
But as soon as they arrived in the kitchen Jake’s aloof air easily conveyed his suspicion and even his annoyance at the presence of the other man. His glacial glance was colder than the icy weather outside as he silently surveyed the stranger who followed Ailsa in.
‘Jake, this is my neighbour Linus—he’s very kindly brought me some provisions from his farm. Linus, this is Jake Larsen … Saskia’s father. He came to let me know that Saskia was staying with her grandmother a bit longer and now he’s stranded here.’ She subconsciously gnawed her lip at the realisation that Jake might well be annoyed that she’d given the other man a little too much information.
‘I’ve heard a lot about you.’ Linus frowned before quickly setting the box of provisions down on the table. He stole a brief glance at Ailsa before recovering his surprise and politely extending his hand towards the other man. ‘From Saskia, I mean. She talks about you all the time.’
‘Is that a fact?’
Although Jake paid deference to good manners and shook the other