Velvet Promise. Carole Mortimer

with you then, wasn’t he?’

      Willow could feel her face pale. ‘That’s none of your business,’ she told him shakily. ‘I don’t believe we’ve ever known each other well enough to talk this intimately about our private lives.’

      Jordan moved to stand in front of her, ominously close, his gaze moving over her contemptuously. ‘Your marriage to Russell was never private,’ he scoffed. ‘A couple of dates with your father’s boss and you decided you liked the idea of a rich husband,’ he sneered.

      ‘Getting myself pregnant to make sure he had to marry me!’ she returned heatedly.

      ‘Exactly. Russell had never met anyone like you before,’ he grated. ‘A sweet innocent—little viper!’

      She bit back the fiery retort that sprang to her lips. The things she could say in her defence she had no intention of telling anyone. Ever. Least of all this cold harsh man who was more like Russell’s brother than his cousin.

      ‘Your parents must have been delighted you managed to catch such a rich prize,’ Jordan continued remorselessly. ‘I heard your father is in charge of sales now rather than just another salesman.’

      These were two accusations she could never deny. Her ambitious mother had been ecstatic when told Willow was pregnant by Russell Stewart and was going to marry him. And her father hadn’t been able to believe his good fortune when Russell quickly promoted him until he reached the executive position he now held. Russell had bought them a new house too, in a more fashionable part of London, and even though he and Willow were now divorced her mother still called him their ‘wonderful son-in-law’.

      Jordan was quite right in his assumption of her parents’ joy in her marriage, but she considered those things and the money awarded her at the divorce small remuneration for the price she had had to pay.

      ‘You would have to talk to Russell about that,’ she told him coldly. ‘I see very little of my parents nowadays.’

      ‘Slightly upset with you for divorcing the golden goose, are they?’ he taunted.

      The fact that he was right still hurt more than she wanted to admit. Her parents had never been interested in hearing the reasons she had finally divorced Russell; they were just furious about the fact that she had. She had wished then that she could have seen their greedy ambition when she was seventeen, that the years in between had never happened. But then she had thought of Dani, and realised that something good had come out of the marriage after all.

      She shrugged. ‘They still have the house Russell bought them, and my father still has his job.’

      ‘That’s because at the time of the divorce Russell still loved you!’

      ‘I didn’t want him to,’ she told Jordan flatly.

      Brown velvet eyes moved disparagingly over her face. ‘I wonder what it was about you that so captivated Russell all that time?’

      She had often wondered that herself—and wanted to destroy whatever it was! But she couldn’t even be called beautiful, with her gamine features and fine hair; she possesed none of the flirtatious artifice that was supposed to keep a man enthralled and guessing. But Jordan was right, Russell had agreed to the divorce, while still loving her. She had hoped his absence from her life the last year meant that was no longer true.

      ‘I have no idea,’ she dismissed carelessly. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us, Dani has to have her lunch before we go to see your aunt and uncle.’

      ‘You always were so indifferent to the fact that Russell loved you,’ Jordan said disgustedly. ‘I’ve known Russell all his life, watched as women chased after him while he treated them with bored tolerance. And then at twenty-eight he met you, a girl of no more than seventeen, who treated him with contempt most of the time, with bored indifference the rest of the time!’

      Never with indifference! If Jordan really believed that he was so wrong. Russell had been too demanding, too much in love ever to be ignored!

      Jordan took her silence as confirmation of his accusation. ‘You have the beauty of an angel, the body of a siren, and the heart of a bitch!’

      Willow watched him as he strode away, her mouth trembling precariously as she felt herself on the edge of tears. In the past Jordan had had little time for her, and this was the first time he had let her know so verbally his real feelings for her. And he was wrong, so wrong. She didn’t have the heart of a bitch; she didn’t have a heart at all; that had been broken years ago by a man who had coveted it above everything else.

      Dani was barely able to contain her excitement during the short drive over to see her grandparents. Simone and David had visited her several times in London, but this would be the first time she had returned to their St Brelade’s Bay home since she was a year old. Willow had to admit she was nervous about returning there herself. Simone had always been polite when she had visited them in London, but here on her home ground she might not feel the need, and memories of past slights by the older woman crowded Willow’s mind as she drove. David Stewart was a different proposition altogether; very easy-going, totally dedicated to the exclusive jewellery he sold here and in his shop in London.

      As they neared the house, Willow wondered if she had been wise to give Barbara the afternoon off instead of accompanying them; she would have felt more comfortable with at least one person on her side.

      She felt her trepidation grow as she saw Jordan’s dark grey Mercedes parked in front of the low rambling villa that had a majestically beautiful view of the whole of St Brelade’s Bay. The villa itself was built of the local granite, as were most of the other houses and walls on the island, the stone coloured from pink to yellow and browns to pale grey. It gave the modern structure an aged beauty and grace that was usually lacking in new buildings.

      But the beauty of the house hadn’t stopped it becoming Willow’s prison in the past, and she trembled slightly as she and Dani entered the cool interior to be shown into the sitting-room where Simone and David waited for them, Simone seated gracefully in one of the armchairs, David slightly slouched on the sofa.

      But is was to the tall man standing in front of the long window that Willow’s gaze was drawn. He had changed into cream trousers and a brown shirt since leaving them this morning, and although he showed none of the uncharacteristic anger he had displayed this morning he didn’t look in the least approachable either. It didn’t seem fair that he had been blessed with those velvety eyes when he had a heart as cold as ice!

      ‘Danielle!’ Simone’s still beautiful face lit up animatedly as she held out her arms to a Dani suddenly gone shy. At fifty-three Simone went to great pains to look at least ten years younger and, with the impishly curling black cap of hair and the slightness of build, she had no trouble doing so. Willow ruefully recognised the cream silk dress as one of her own creations. But she was conscious of the fact that even this concession to the career she had made for herself since leaving Russell might only be for show. Simone was a great one for maintaining impressions; her son might have made the faux pas of taking a pregnant child as his wife, but Simone would never let anyone outside the family see how much she had hated the marriage.

      ‘She’ll be all right once she gets used to you again.’ Willow tenderly stroked the hair at her daughter’s temple. ‘She’s been talking about you non-stop on the way over here,’ she added hastily as the blue of Simone’s eyes flashed resentfully at the implication that Dani regarded them all as strangers. But it had been several months since Dani had seen her grandparents, and to a child that could be a long time. Although she accepted that that wasn’t Simone’s and David’s fault; she had never been able to fault them as grandparents.

      ‘How about some ice-cream?’ suggested David, a tall sandy-haired man of about fifty-five with twinkling blue eyes. ‘We have chocolate, your favourite,’ he tempted Dani as she hesitated.

      ‘With a coloured cornet?’ Dani said eagerly, her shyness evaporating at the mention of the chocolate flavour.

      ‘Pink or green,’ he nodded indulgently.

      ‘Green,