Captive Loving
Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

THE arms of her young daughter strained about Jessica's neck, and she looked down at her affectionately. Corn-coloured hair, thick and straight like her own, pansy-blue eyes staring into other pansy-blue eyes, the small snub nose and wide smiling mouth all adding up to an almost mirror image. Except that there were twenty years’ difference in their ages, Penny was only five years old.

‘Do you have to go out, Mummy?’ Penny pouted beguilingly. ‘I don't want old Aunty Peg taking care of me.’

‘She isn't old, darling,’ Jessica chuckled, tweaking her daughter's nose. Peg Seabrook was in her early forties, and certainly wouldn't appreciate being described as ‘old'. And she knew her daughter's bad humour to be due to anger with her rather than dislike of Peg. Usually Penny and Peg got on well together, and she knew that once she and Andrew had left they would do so again. ‘And yes, I have to go out.’ She smoothed Penny's hair back from her scrupulously clean face; the bathtime of an hour ago had been as hiliarious as usual.

Penny frowned petulantly. ‘But you don't usually go out with Daddy.’

Jessica's face became shadowed. What was the saying ‘out of the mouths of babes …'? Penny was right, she didn't usually go out with Andrew, but then the way he spent his evenings didn't usually include a wife. She hadn't realised that Penny had been aware of her parents’ differing social activities – no, not parents', because she personally didn't have a social life. Andrew had enough for both of them.

‘Tonight's special, poppet.’ She stood up to tuck the sheets more firmly about her daughter. ‘It has to do with Daddy's work.’

Penny looked up at her consideringly. ‘Will Aunt Lisa be there too?’

Jessica stiffened, forcing herself to continue tidying the gold-coloured coverlet. ‘Aunt Lisa?’ she asked with as much casualness as she could summon up.

Her young daughter wrinkled her nose up with dislike. ‘She came out with Daddy and me last week when we went shopping for your birthday present,’ she revealed innocently, seeing nothing unusual in her father going shopping with another woman.

Damn Andrew! Jessica didn't need two guesses who ‘Aunt Lisa’ was, she would be the latest in the long line of women Andrew had had since their marriage seven years ago. But he had no right introducing his women to their daughter. Penny was the only good thing to come out of this disaster of a marriage, and she wouldn't have her own relationship with her spoilt by Andrew's carelessness.

The fact that the other woman had probably helped Andrew choose the expensive bottle of perfume he gave her for her birthday didn't even touch her. Nothing Andrew did bothered her any more; it had ceased to very soon after Penny was born. But she would have to talk to him about involving Penny in his sordidness. The thought didn't please her. Andrew had been more unpleasant than usual the last few weeks, and she dreaded him flying into one of his uncontrollable tempers.

‘She could be,’ she answered Penny evasively, not sure how Andrew had met this woman Lisa. She never knew where he met any of them, she just knew when he had met them. After seven years she was an expert at telling the signs, the way he suddenly started spoiling Penny and ignoring her. Not that she minded the latter part of it, but the sporadic gift-buying and time spent with Penny only confused her when it came to an abrupt end. Jessica would say that this latest affair had been going on a little over two months.

Penny pulled a face. ‘I didn't like her.’

‘Never mind, darling,’ she soothed. ‘Perhaps you won't see her again.’

‘I hope not.’

‘Sleep now, Penny,’ Jessica told her firmly. ‘And don't play up Aunty Peg, you know she can't resist you.’

The little girl grinned, looking completely angelic with her golden hair spread out on the pillow beneath her, her blue eyes clear and untroubled.

‘ ’Night,’ Jessica laughed, estimating Penny joining Peg downstairs ten minutes after she and Andrew had departed.

‘ ’Night,’ Penny echoed. ‘You look lovely, Mummy.’

‘Thank you, darling.’ There was a catch in her voice. It was so long since she had received a compliment, a compliment of any sort, that tears came unbidden to her eyes.

Damn! She had been all ready to go, and now she would have to recheck her make-up. If she were late Andrew wouldn't be pleased. This company dinner meant a lot to him. He would be downstairs charming Peg at the moment, despite the other woman's seventeen years’ seniority. Andrew couldn't be in the same room as a woman and not try and win her over. It had been this same easy charm that had attracted Jessica to him in the first place, the same charm that all his other women found so fascinating, the same charm that had destroyed them.

She went back to her bedroom, the room she had slept in alone since Penny had been three months old. Andrew's room was next door, but more often than not it was unoccupied during the night hours; his stumblings into the house during the early hours of the morning were a regular thing, although with this latest affair he usually only just managed to get in before Penny got up to go to school.

Jessica studied her reflection in the mirror. Mm, not bad. Andrew had insisted on giving her money for a new dress, and the royal blue crushed velvet of the gown made her eyes appear an even deeper blue, her hair almost silver. She looked cool and confident, and she only hoped she could act that way. Andrew had worked for Sinclairs for two years now, in the Sales Department, but this year was the first time he had invited her to attend one of their annual summer dances. The previous year she had stayed at home to look after an ailing Penny, and Andrew had gone on his own. She doubted he had left the same way. Andrew attracted women like bees around honey, his dark good looks and teasing blue eyes being attractive to most women, his air of recklessness adding to his challenge.

He stood up as soon as she entered the lounge, and she could view dispassionately the way the navy blue suit emphasised the breadth of his shoulders, his tapered waist and muscled thighs. His dark hair was worn over-long, deliberately so, and his features were so perfect he was almost beautiful.

‘We'd better be going,’ he said tersely, moving his car keys impatiently from one hand to the other, looking older than his twenty-seven years.

‘You look wonderful, Jessica.’ Peg filled Andrew's omission, ‘Really lovely, doesn't she, Andrew?’ Her voice hardened over the last.

Jessica bit her lip. Peg wasn't fooled by Andrew's winning ways in the least. She had been their next-door neighbour for two years now, and she knew exactly what Andrew was like. In fact, Peg was always advising her to leave him, if only to teach him a lesson. Peg seemed convinced that this was the jolt Andrew needed to stop his affairs. There was no possibility of her ever leaving Andrew, not with what he knew about her.

Andrew gave her a cursory glance, more of a glower really. ‘Yes,’ he snapped. ‘Now are you ready?’

‘I just have to get my jacket——’

‘I'll get it.’ He strode off impatiently, scowling heavily.

Peg raised her eyebrows; she was an attractive brunette with twelve years of happy marriage behind her, and was obviously slightly bewildered by Jessica's own marriage. ‘Big night?’ she teased.

‘Andrew's just tense,’ Jessica excused his rudeness. ‘Getting on at Sinclairs means a lot to him. The Sales Manager is retiring at the end of the year, and Andrew would like his job.’

‘Isn't he a little young for that?’

She shrugged. ‘I suppose he could be, I don't really know.’ Andrew rarely discussed his work with her, in fact she felt sure he had only mentioned the Sales Manager's job to her because he wanted to be sure she made a good impression tonight. ‘He seems to think he can do it.’

‘Then he probably can,’ her friend laughed. ‘That young man can do anything he sets his mind to.’

Not quite anything, but she wasn't going to tell Peg that. The explanation would be too embarrassing to herself. ‘If Penny should come down——’

‘She will, you know she will,’ Peg chuckled.

‘Yes,’ Jessica smiled. ‘Well, I shouldn't worry about it too much. It's Friday, so she doesn't have school tomorrow.’

‘Whatever you say,’ the other woman accepted. ‘I'll be glad to have her company.’

‘Here,’ Andrew came back, handing Jessica's jacket to her. ‘Let's go,’ and he walked out to the car.

‘See you later,’ she told Peg breathlessly as she struggled into her jacket, hastily following Andrew.

He was already seated behind the wheel, having no intention of opening the car door for her. Jessica saw something glittering on the floor as she got in, and bent to pick it up. It was a woman's compact, and it looked expensive.

‘Lisa's?’ She held it up.

Andrew turned to her with a start, his attention momentarily diverted from his driving. ‘What did you say?’

She drew in a steadying breath, knowing it would do no good for her to lose her temper. ‘I wondered if this were Lisa's.’

His face darkened. ‘How the hell did you find out about her?’

‘Guess,’ she said bitterly.

‘Penny!’

‘Yes. Andrew, I won't have her involved in your affairs. If you want to——’

‘You won't have her involved?’ he repeated scornfully. ‘Who asked for your opinion?’

‘Can't you see that she'll very soon start to make the connection——’

‘So what if she does?’

She paled. ‘Andrew, you can't——’

‘Who says I can't?’ he scowled. ‘Who's going to stop me? You?’

Jessica flinched at the contempt in his voice. ‘I won't have her involved,’ she repeated firmly. ‘You won't take her out with one of your women again.’

An angry flush coloured his cheeks, a pulse beating erratically in his cheek. ‘And what are you going to do if I do? Deny me the pleasure of your bed?’ he mocked bitterly.

Jessica paled even more. She should be used to his insults by now, and yet she could still be hurt by them. And he knew it, deriving great pleasure from denting the shell she had bult up about her emotions.

‘But then it never was a pleasure, for either of us, was it?’ he added scathingly.

‘Andrew——’

‘Beautiful—and frigid,’ he continued sneeringly.

‘I'm not——’

‘When a woman hasn't slept with her husband, or had the inclination to, for over five years then there has to be something wrong with her. And don't try and put the blame on me again,’ he snapped. ‘None of the other women I've slept with have had the trouble you did.’

By ‘trouble’ she knew he meant inhibitions. When they had met eight years ago she had been so shy it had taken all her time to talk to him, overwhelmed as she was by the fact that such a handsome, popular boy should have been interested in her.

Brought up by a maiden aunt since she was five years old, she wasn't used to being the centre of attention, especially male attention. She had been happy with her parents until the car crash had taken them from her, and her aunt had been very strict, hadn't liked her talking to boys, not even at school, drumming into Jessica at an early age the infidelities of men.

Thinking about it now, in her own maturity, she thought her aunt had probably been very hurt by a man when she was younger, but that didn't excuse the way she had regimentally brought up Jessica, never showing her any love or affection, something that had come hard to her after the first happy five years of her life.

Consequently she had grown up a lonely child, with a craving to be loved that at the time she hadn't even recognised. In her last year of school she had taken a Saturday job working in a local café, much to her aunt's disgust. Andrew came in there a lot with his friends, or with a girl. He had been popular even then, and had seemed like a god to the awe-struck, lovesick Jessica.

When he had asked her out for the first time she had thought he hadn't really meant it, that he had done it as a joke, that he and his friends would have a laugh about it later. Her basic insecurity was such that she hadn't been able to acknowledge or recognise her own beauty—she still couldn't, but Andrew had been intrigued by that haunting beauty from the first.

He had started to come to the café alone after that, asking her out again and again, until she finally agreed to let him take her to the cinema, little guessing that he had taken her first refusals as simply playing hard to get. When he had kissed her in the back row of the cinema she had let him, feeling safe in amongst all those people. But when he tried to do the same thing outside her aunt's house she had shrugged off his advances.

That had been the start of a long, slow courtship, with Jessica believing she had at last found the love and tenderness she craved. She had learnt later that Andrew's thoughts were less emotional, more basic. She parried his more intimate caresses with a shyness she later learnt he thought to be an act.

By this time it had become a challenge to him to possess her, almost an obsession, and when her aunt had died suddenly just after Jessica's eighteenth birthday he had even married her to realise his obsession. Their wedding night had been a triumph for him, and a deep shock for her. She had thought that because she loved him he would be tender and understanding about her inexperience, would respect her virginity. But he had been brutal, and his lovemaking contained only self-gratification, leaving her bruised and hurting, and worst of all, humiliated.

But she had been too inexperienced, too ignorant, to realise that there was more to going to bed with a man than what Andrew gave her, and lay docilely beneath him while he satisfied himself with her.

For months she had continued to suffer his invasion of her body, knowing that he enjoyed subjugating her. But by this time she had a job of her own, a job where the intimacies of married life were discussed between the women quite openly, and being one of the married ones herself she was expected to know what they were talking about. She didn't. But it was from these women that she had began to wonder if she wasn't missing something, if perhaps there wasn't more to making love.

When she had dared to broach the subject to Andrew he had exploded in a storm of anger so fierce he had frightened her. He had taken her words as a personal attack on his manhood, had told her that her lack of pleasure was due to her own frigidness, that it had nothing to do with him, that all the other women he slept with enjoyed it as much as he did, that none of them had her prudish inhibitions.

It was the first she had known of his other women, and her humiliation had been extreme as she found there had been other women in his life almost from the day they had been married. She had been numbed by the revelation, although she had stayed with him, still loving him, and having nowhere else to go even if she did leave.

A few months later she had found out she was pregnant, and so there had been no question of leaving Andrew then. But shortly after that pregnancy the physical side of their marriage had been permanently terminated, at her instigation, and Andrew had never let her forget it. Every time they had an argument he brought the subject up, always accusing, always threatening. And she feared those threats.

‘I'm sorry, Andrew,’ she said quietly now. ‘But after Penny was born——’

‘It had nothing to do with that, and you know it,’ he scorned. ‘You were always frigid, right from the start. I should have divorced you long ago.’

‘Oh no!’ she cried her dismay, her face very white. ‘You wouldn't, would you, Andrew?’ She clutched on to his arm.

‘Don't do that when I'm driving,’ he shook off her hand angrily. ‘In fact, don't do it at all, you know I can't bear you to touch me.’

Jessica recoiled back to her own side of the car, looking down at her hands as they moved nervously in her lap. She stopped their convulsive movement, clenching them tightly together. ‘I'm sorry, Andrew,’ she said huskily.

‘So I should damn well think,’ he snapped. ‘Just who do you think you are to tell me how to behave with my own daughter?’

She could have said his wife, but she knew what his answer to that would be. Besides, she daren't antagonise him too much, not when he could ultimately use the threat of divorce, a threat which he knew would cow her once and for all.

She forced her voice to be controlled, reasoning. ‘I just don't think it's a good idea for Penny to meet—your friend Lisa,’ she chose her words carefully.

‘Her name is Alicia, actually,’ he drawled. ‘Only her—intimates, call her Lisa.’

‘Oh.’

‘And I think it's a very good idea for Penny to meet her, she could be her stepmother one day,’ he added tauntingly.

Jessica's breath caught in her throat. ‘Is——is that probable?’

He shrugged. ‘Anything is possible.’ He made no effort to reassure her.

‘Andrew——’

‘Jessica!’ he mocked, turning the low sports car into the car park of the Sinclair office building.

‘Are you——’ she swallowed hard, licking her lips nervously, ‘are you thinking of divorcing me?’

He swung out of the car, bending down to speak to her. ‘It's never far from my mind,’ he told her cruelly. ‘It's no picnic being married to a silent iceberg.’

‘I——’

‘Don't make the same grand offer to share my bed again,’ he said sneeringly. ‘I wouldn't have you as a gift. I like co-operation in my bed, not complacency.’

Sharing a bed with Andrew had been the last thing on her mind, although she knew she would do even that if it would stop him talking of divorce. Thank God she no longer held any attraction for him!

‘I just wanted to say——’

‘It can wait until later, Jessica,’ he dismissed impatiently. ‘Right now I want to go in there and make an impression on Sinclair. And you're going to help me. A beautiful wife is always an asset.’ He took hold of her elbow as she joined him on the tarmacked car park, his mouth twisting mockingly. ‘Only I will know that the provocation in those pansy-blue eyes of yours is just a façade, a lie.’

Jessica ignored his jibe, having already taken too much of a battering for one evening. ‘Will Lis——Alicia be there?’ she persisted as they entered the ultra-modern building with several other couples, who Andrew greeted as they all stepped into the lift together, making no effort to introduce her.

‘Of course,’ Andrew muttered tersely, not even looking down at her. ‘She's Sinclair's secretary. Always go to the top, I say,’ he added crudely.

Jessica felt ill, recoiling as they stepped out on to the eighth floor, the noise from the party already under way filling her with dread. She never appeared well at these sort of functions, her basic shyness holding her back from joining in the merriment, although sometimes she wished this weren't so, wished she could be the sort of woman that men were attracted to.

‘I have to go to the powder-room,’ she told Andrew in a whisper.

He sighed heavily. ‘Down the corridor,’ he instructed curtly. ‘Second door on the left.’ He turned in the direction of the party.

‘Andrew!’ she called in a panicked voice, already selfconscious as several of Andrew's work colleagues stared at her curiously. No doubt every single one of them knew of his affairs, especially this latest one with the boss's secretary. Andrew liked to boast of his conquests.

‘Yes?’ His patience, what there was of it, was wearing very thin.

‘I——My jacket,’ she said lamely.

He wasn't exactly gentle as he helped her off with it. ‘And don't be long,’ he ordered.

‘You'll wait for me?’ she asked anxiously.

‘I'll meet you inside.’

Jessica looked into the darkened room, the noise from the live music and chattering people suddenly seeming louder to her. ‘But I won't be able to find you in there,’ she said in dismay.

‘Then I'll find you,’ he dismissed. ‘And for God's sake hurry up, Jessica. I want to introduce you to Sinclair.’

There was no point in arguing further, Andrew would only do what he wanted to do in the end, so she made her way down the badly lit corridor, blinking back her tears. God, she was tearful tonight! Andrew had said much worse things to her in the past and she hadn't even flinched. But tonight she was feeling particularly vulnerable, especially with Andrew's mention of divorce. Could he really be serious about Alicia?

She knew almost immediately that she had entered the wrong room, the overhead fluorescent lighting showing this to be an office, the teak desk cleared of all work, the swivel-chair behind the desk turned towards the window. The view of the surrounding countryside had a beauty of its own from this height, and she spent a minute or so drinking in the peace and tranquillity, finally turning to go in search of the powder-room.

‘Don't go.’

Jessica froze, slowly turning in the direction of that silky voice. The swivel-chair had been spun round to reveal a man, a ruggedly handsome man who was looking at her with open admiration, a man of perhaps thirty-five or thirty-six.

Tawny eyes were narrowed appreciatively, the hair a deep burnished gold, worn rather long, his skin deeply tanned, as if he had recently been on holiday. Beneath the tawny eyes the nose jutted out slightly aquiline, his mouth curved into a smile, sensually so. As he stood up, easily over six feet, a good foot taller than her own meagre height, Jessica could see how well the white dinner jacket fitted across his powerful shoulders, tapering to a narrow waist, and muscular thighs clearly outlined in the black tailored trousers he wore. He was tall, and powerful, and he made her feel uneasy.

The way he was looking at her now made her blush, every inch of her having known the fire of his gaze. ‘I——I'm sorry,’ she stuttered. ‘I was looking for—I came in the wrong door.’ Hot colour flooded her cheeks.

His smile deepened to humour, his teeth very white against his tan. ‘The ladies’ room is next door,’ he drawled.

‘Er——yes.’ She turned to go.

‘Stay,’ he repeated his earlier request.

Her lids flickered up in surprise, her lashes long and dark, tipped with gold. ‘The dance …’

‘Can get along without us very well for a few minutes.’ He took her arm, steering her over to the swivel-chair he had just vacated. ‘I wonder who you belong to,’ he muttered almost to himself.

‘I don't belong to anyone,’ Jessica surprised herself by snapping at him.

‘Good,’ he smiled. ‘Because I think I'd like you to belong to me.’

She struggled to get out of the chair, but found her way blocked by his powerful frame as he sat on the desk in front of her, his legs either side of her stopping her turning the chair.

‘Will you let me go, Mr——’

‘Matthew,’ he murmured softly, gently touching the silver of her hair. ‘Just Matthew.’

She squirmed away from him. ‘Don't do that!’ Two spots of angry colour darkened her cheeks.

‘Why not?’ His hand didn't move away from her, caressing her cheek now. ‘Your name—what's your name?’ he demanded impatiently.

‘Jessica. But——’

‘Not Jess? I hope not, because I don't like names to be abbreviated.’ He made this comment as if he expected his likes and dislikes to matter to her.

Well, they didn't And neither did he. ‘If you'll excuse me …’ She tried to brush past him, but he wouldn't let her go.

‘I can't do that, Jessica,’ he said the name with enjoyment, savouring every syllable. ‘Mm, it suits you. My lovely Jessica.’ His tawny eyes held her captive. ‘I was sitting in that chair wondering how I was going to get through the evening when I looked up and saw your reflection in the window. Do you have any idea how lovely you are?’

‘If you're the office Romeo——’

‘Oh, not me, Jessica,’ he smiled, his hands on the arm of the chair pinning her back against the leather. ‘That's Baxter's prerogative.’

Andrew! Oh God, everyone did know about his affairs, including this man! The two of them could even work together, and this man Matthew would probably enjoy telling Andrew how he had frightened his wife half to death. Andrew would never forgive her if this man should even guess at their sterile relationship.

‘I've heard he's a flirt,’ she said lightly, doing her best not to panic. She would just sit this out, he was bound to tire of teasing her soon.

‘He is. But I don't want to talk about him,’ Matthew dismissed. ‘Will you promise the rest of the evening to me?’

Jessica gasped. ‘Of course not!’

‘You have to!’ His hands gripped hers, his expression intent. ‘Jessica, I'd just about given up on you.’

‘But I've never met you before!’

‘If you had I wouldn't have been feeling so despondent about this dance. I hate Company dances,’ he grimaced.

‘So do I.’

‘You see?’ he said eagerly. ‘We have a lot in common.’

‘Mr—Matthew, disliking Company dances means we have one thing in common,’ Jessica pointed out mockingly, pleased with herself for her calm. This man could just be flirting with her, or he could be slightly unbalanced, whatever he was he was dangerous; there was a predatory light in the tawny eyes.

‘We're attracted to each other,’ he claimed arrogantly.

‘We most certainly are not!’ she gasped, wondering at his raw audacity. Andrew might be a womaniser, but this man easily beat him!

‘But we are, Jessica. I've been waiting all my life for you——’

‘Isn't that approach a little hackneyed?’ She scorned to hide her rising panic. He didn't seem to be tiring of this game at all, in fact he seemed to be getting bolder, his thumbs sensually caressing the back of her hands, desire in his eyes.

Heavens, she was so alone with him here, and Andrew or no Andrew, she was going to scream in a minute!

The man frowned darkly. ‘It isn't hackneyed if it's the truth,’ he rasped.

She looked at him steadily, forcing herself to do so. ‘It may be true for you, but it certainly isn't true for me.’

‘Of course it is,’ he dismissed impatiently. ‘I refuse to believe——’

‘And I refuse to listen to this—rubbish any more,’ she cut in coldly. ‘I'm sure this approach has worked for you in the past, but I'm afraid that this time you've struck out. Perhaps you ought to take lessons from Andrew Baxter,’ she added bitterly.

‘Jessica——’

‘Would you please get out of my way.’ She looked up at him with cold eyes. ‘I'd like to get back to the party,’ she lied.

‘I'm not losing you now I've found you,’ Matthew told her firmly. ‘Will you come and dance with me?’

She knew it was just an excuse for him to get her into his arms, could see that in the naked desire in his eyes, but it could also be a way for her to get out of here. ‘I have to go to the ladies’ room first,’ she reminded him huskily.

‘Do you have any idea how sexy your voice is?’ he asked deeply.

Did nothing stop this man? He probably had a wife waiting for him in the other room! She pitied her even as she pitied herself. Maybe the two of them should get together and trade unfaithful husband stories!

‘Jessica,’ Matthew prompted her attention back to him. ‘Why do I get the impression you keep fading off from me?’ he frowned.

Maybe because she did! She had become so used to shutting herself off from Andrew that she often did it without even realising it. And this man's flirting turned her off more than anything, despite his undoubted attraction. She was married to a man who was too good-looking for his own good, and this man was just an older version of Andrew.

She gave him a bright meaningless smile. ‘You were just telling me how sexy my voice is,’ she recited to show she had been listening, another habit she had picked up from being married to Andrew.

Matthew smiled. ‘Very sexy,’ he confirmed throatily. ‘It's deep and husky, with a slight catch in it that sends shivers down my spine.’

He had certainly noticed a lot about her in these few brief minutes of conversation! ‘I'm glad you like it,’ she said lightly, wondering when he was going to let her go. Andrew would be getting impatient, and if he became angry with her there was no telling what would happen.

‘I more than like it,’ he said huskily, his face dangerously close to hers. ‘Jessica——’

‘I really do have to go to the ladies’ room,’ she interrupted jerkily, knowing that if he got any closer to her she was going to make a fool of herself.

‘All right,’ Matthew moved back with a sigh. ‘But you'll give me that dance?’

She would promise him anything to get out of here. ‘If that's what you want,’ she nodded.

‘It isn't but I'll settle for that. For now.’

He at last allowed her to stand up, and she moved quickly to the door. ‘I'll meet you inside,’ she told him, knowing she intended doing no such thing.

Matthew obviously knew it too. ‘I'll wait in the corridor for you,’ he made the answer Andrew should have made a few minutes ago.

‘All right.’ Jessica's tone was agitated. ‘I'll meet you outside the dance-room.’ Maybe she could avoid him in the crowd.

‘I'll wait for you outside here.’ He foiled that plan too.

She gave an impatient sigh, leaving by the door he opened for her, entering the room next door with a sense of relief.

Maybe if she stayed here long enough he would tire of waiting and go back to the party, although the determination in those tawny eyes hadn't given any indication of that. Matthew appeared to be a man who liked his own way, his arrogance was a fundamental part of his personality.

She hadn't realised she had noticed so much about him! She rarely noticed men at all, being shyly polite to the few male acquaintances Andrew had introduced her to in the past, and yet Matthew hadn't made it possible for her to behave either shyly or politely. He really was the most arrogant man!

But she couldn't sit here all night. She had left Andrew over fifteen minutes ago, and if she didn't soon return he was likely to come looking for her. Maybe Matthew would have returned to his wife by now.

No such luck. He was leaning back lazily against the wall when she stepped out into the corridor, his hands thrust casually into his trousers pockets, although he seemed to sense her presence immediately, straightening away from the wall, his eyes darkening appreciatively as he slowly studied her from the top of her gleaming head to the tips of her tiny feet.

He came forward to grasp her elbow, his hold possessive. ‘I wasn't sure I hadn't dreamt you,’ he murmured throatily, his gaze warm on her flushed face.

‘It's rather early in the evening to be drunk,’ Jessica said coldly.

‘I'm not drunk,’ he smiled. ‘At least, not from alcohol. I had an awful feeling you might try and slip away from me.’

She allowed herself to be steered in the direction of the room where the loud music and noisy chatter seemed to have risen to a crescendo, feeling relief that at least she wasn't to be alone when she went in there, although she would rather it hadn't been this man at her side.

Consequently her voice was sharp when next she spoke. ‘There was no way I could do that,’ she snapped.

‘I'm glad,’ he squeezed her elbow. ‘I don't want to lose you now I've found you.’

As soon as she found Andrew she would make sure she never spoke to this maniac again!

But Andrew was nowhere to be seen, not at the bar, and not on the dance floor. Her imagination told her only too accurately what he was probably doing—and it wouldn't be anything innocent, not if his latest mistress were here.

He could have behaved himself one evening, especially in front of his boss. She was sure it wasn't going to impress John Sinclair to see Andrew flirting with his own secretary!

‘You seem to be looking for someone,’ Matthew remarked deeply at her side.

‘I am,’ she snapped her resentment that he was still there. So far the evening was turning out to be a complete disaster.

‘The man you came with?’ he said shrewdly.

‘My husband, yes,’ she nodded, watching as he seemed to pale at her disclosure.

‘Your husband …?’ he repeated softly. ‘He's here?’ His hand dropped away from her elbow.

‘Oh yes,’ she gave a bitter smile.

‘Where?’ Matthew rasped.

Her eyes flashed deeply blue. ‘If I knew that I wouldn't be looking for him.’

He seemed rather dazed. ‘It never occurred to me that you were married … Have you been married long?’ he asked harshly.

‘Seven years,’ she supplied tightly. Andrew was still nowhere in sight.

‘God!’ he groaned, very pale, his eyes the yellow of a cat's. ‘Children?’

‘One,’ Jessica nodded. ‘A little girl.’

He put a hand up to his brow, all teasing gone now. ‘I—You didn't tell me you were married!’

‘You didn't ask.’ She had at last spotted Andrew. He was coming towards them, and fortunately he didn't look angry at all, smiling his most charming smile as his arm slipped about her waist.

‘Here you are, darling,’ he said in a softly chiding voice. ‘I've been looking everywhere for you.’

By the smell of his breath he had done most of his looking at the bar! ‘I've been looking for you too, darling.’ The last was added for the benefit of the man called Matthew, letting him know once and for all to leave her alone.

‘Your wife has been in safe hands, Baxter,’ he remarked tautly, his mouth twisting as he looked at Andrew.

‘Jessica hasn't been bothering you, sir?’ Andrew asked anxiously, all his earlier contempt gone from his voice.

Sir? Jessica stiffened. This man must be one of Andrew's bosses! Oh God, she hadn't said anything that could have upset him, had she?

‘Not at all,’ Matthew replied easily, his eyes narrowed. ‘Although we haven't really had the opportunity to introduce ourselves properly.’ He looked expectantly at Andrew.

‘My wife Jessica,’ he instantly introduced. ‘Jessica, this is Matthew Sinclair, the owner of Sinclairs.’

Not just one of Andrew's bosses—the boss!

CHAPTER TWO

SHE should have known, should have guessed by Andrew's charming manner just now, that the man she knew simply as Matthew was someone important. No, not just someone important, he was the man Andrew most wanted to impress. And he had been flirting with her shamelessly.

She looked up at Andrew. ‘I thought that was John Sinclair?’

It was Matthew who answered her. ‘I am John Sinclair, but so was my father. I prefer to use my second name rather than be called Young John Sinclair.’ His mouth twisted derisively.

Jessica looked at him with new eyes, no longer seeing the man who had tried to pick her up a few minutes ago, now seeing the authority that was second nature to him, his autocratic bearing. He was everything the wealthy owner of Sinclair's should be, Sinclair Office Supplies having tentacles all over the world, and she should have seen that in him from the first.

‘Your wife had just promised me a dance,’ he told Andrew. ‘That is, if you have no objection,’ he added as an afterthought.

‘No, of course not,’ Andrew answered, as Jessica had known he would, flushing his pleasure that Matthew Sinclair had chosen his wife out of all the other females in the room; most of them were just waiting for the owner of the firm to notice them.

‘Jessica?’ Matthew Sinclair quirked a questioning eyebrow at her.

‘I——’ She broke off her refusal as Andrew's fingers bit painfully into her waist. ‘I would love to,’ she amended, knowing she would never hear the end of it if she turned this man down. Andrew would surely never forgive her. And those threats of divorce earlier had sounded genuine enough.

They were the cynosure of all eyes as they stepped on to the dance floor, the fast disco-sound giving way to a slow love song, couples moving naturally into each other's arms as they swayed together to the music.

‘I couldn't have chosen better myself,’ Matthew murmured as the theme from Love Story became audible. He slowly pulled her into his arms, making no effort to hold her formally, as one would have expected between employer and employee's wife, his hands resting possessively on her hips as his body moved sensually against hers, his temple resting lightly against hers.

Jessica at once felt panic, and pushed at his shoulders. ‘Please—don't do that,’ she said awkwardly, feeling his tension even in her inexperience.

Matthew looked down at her with puzzled eyes, dancing slightly away from her now. ‘You must have been very young when you married,’ he said gruffly.

She nodded, not looking at him. ‘Eighteen.’

‘Do you love him?’

Her lashes fluttered nervously, and she looked hastily away from probing tawny eyes. ‘Of course I love him,’ she answered sharply, too sharply, realising how defensive she sounded. ‘Andrew is my husband,’ she added simply.

‘For better, for worse?’ Matthew scorned tightly.

‘Exactly.’

‘Jessica——’

‘I think the music has stopped, Mr Sinclair.’ She moved away from him.

He made no effort to leave the dance floor, attracting several curious looks. ‘You want me to take you back to Andrew?’ he asked huskily.

She knew there was much more significance behind the words than appeared on the surface. And this had to stop now. Not even for Andrew and the sake of his promotion would she put up with this man's familiarity.

‘Yes, I would,’ she replied stiltedly. ‘And isn't it time you returned to your wife?’

‘I don't have a wife, Jessica,’ he told her deeply. ‘Unlike you, I was patient.’

‘Patient …?’ She shook her head. ‘I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean.’

‘No,’ he sighed, ‘I can see you don't. And I'm not in a position to tell you, not any more. Come on, I'll take you back to your husband.’

‘Thank you,’ she nodded coolly.

Matthew's hand on her elbow was impersonal as he guided her back to Andrew's side. ‘Maybe I could borrow your wife for another dance later?’ he said with stilted politeness.

‘Of course, sir,’ Andrew agreed eagerly, without even consulting her. ‘Jessica would like that,’ he added enthusiastically.

‘Jessica,’ Matthew nodded abruptly before leaving them.

Andrew dragged her over to a vacant table near the bar. ‘I don't know how you did it,’ he said excitedly, ‘but you certainly made a hit with Sinclair!’

‘Don't be silly, Andrew.’ She looked away, blushing unconsciously, noting that Matthew Sinclair was now dancing with a tall black-haired woman, her voluptuous figure shown to advantage in the green gown she wore, the two of them dancing even closer together than he and Jessica had. She turned back to Andrew. ‘I merely met him outside—in the corridor.’ She didn't want to tell him she had gone into the wrong room, he would only berate her for her stupidity. ‘He—he offered to escort me in here.’

‘He likes you,’ Andrew insisted. ‘Sinclair has always seemed a very cold fish to me. But he certainly didn't act that way with you.’

No, he certainly hadn't, although she thought she had got her feelings of uninterest over to him now. ‘He isn't acting that way with his partner now either,’ she pointed out dryly.

Andrew looked towards the dance-floor, easily locating Matthew Sinclair and his partner. ‘Don't be ridiculous, Jessica—that's Lisa,’ he scowled.

Jessica's eyes widened as she looked at the other woman with new eyes. Yes, she would be the sort of woman who appealed to Andrew, her sexuality oozed from every pore in her body.

And it was just like Andrew to be jealous of Matthew Sinclair's attention to his mistress, and consider the same attention shown to his wife an asset!

Lisa—or Alicia, to give her her real name—was strikingly beautiful, in her early twenties, with a figure any model would envy, except perhaps that her bust was a little too full to suit their slenderness. And she certainly didn't look as if she minded having Matthew Sinclair's arms about her; her own arms were entwined about his neck as they moved slowly in time to the music.

Andrew was scowling heavily now, his anger deepening as Matthew Sinclair and Alicia went to the bar together once the music had stopped. ‘Excuse me,’ he mumbled, and stood up, making his own way to the bar. After buying himself a drink he sauntered over to join the other couple.

Jessica turned away to hide her shame. He was making himself so obvious, making a fool of himself.

‘Hello there, love,’ greeted a cheery voice. ‘All alone, are you?’

She looked up into the face of a man who had obviously had too much to drink already, a man in his forties, very overweight, an alcoholic flush to his flabby cheeks. And he seemed to have singled her out for his inebriated attention. ‘No, I'm not alone,’ she told him in her coldest voice. ‘My partner will be back in a moment,’ although by the look of Andrew he wasn't going to leave Alicia's side for some time to come, and Matthew Sinclair was noticeably absent from their group now.

‘Not if he's Andrew Baxter, he won't.’ The drunken man pulled out a chair and sat down. ‘Randy Andy, we call him in the office.’ He gave a suggestive laugh, his expression leering. ‘That's because he is.’ The man leant forward over the table, breathing beer fumes all over her. ‘Randy, I mean.’

Jessica had stiffened at his insulting tone. ‘The—nickname you have for Andrew is of no interest to me.’ She stood up. ‘If you'll excuse me …’ She had no idea where she was going, just away from this man.

‘Hey, not so fast!’ His hand came out and caught her about the wrist, surprisingly strong. ‘If you don't want to talk about Rand—er—Andy, then we won't. I can understand you being annoyed with him, he shouldn't really have bothered to bring one of his little friends when he already has Alicia,’ he chuckled. ‘You can be my little friend if you like.’

The idea nauseated her. ‘Andy brought his wife with him this time,’ she snapped. ‘Now, would you take your hands off me?’

He let go of her as if she had burnt him. ‘Cold little bitch, aren't you?’ he glared his dislike. ‘No wonder Andy says you're frigid! You should give the man what he wants——’

Jessica didn't wait to hear any more, but turned to rush out of the room, her face deathly white. Andrew had talked about her to that man, had discussed their sexual differences with a total stranger. God, she could just imagine the crudeness of that conversation, the ribald remarks! Did everyone in that room know she didn't sleep with her husband?

‘Jessica!’

She stopped her mad flight at the sound of that familiar voice, and turned to find Matthew Sinclair striding down the corridor to join her.

He grasped her forearms, searching her pale features. ‘Jessica, are you all right? Did Taylor insult you?’ he demanded in an angry voice.

‘Taylor?’ she echoed dully. Did this man know of her marital difficulties too? If he did then Andrew bringing her here tonight was a waste of time.

‘The man you were talking to——’

‘I wasn't talking to him, he was talking to me.’ She blinked back the tears.

‘Jessica …’ Matthew groaned.

‘Please, let me go.’ She shook off his hands, regaining her composure with effort. ‘Mr Taylor didn't insult me, he—he's just a little drunk, I think.’

Matthew nodded grimly. ‘More than a little. I'll get someone to take him home.’

Jessica would have liked to go home too, but Andrew had disappeared from the hall by the time she got up to leave—and Alicia was noticeably absent too.

‘Come with me,’ Matthew said tersely, leading her over to the lift.

Jessica hung back. ‘I—Where are you taking me?’

His mouth twisted into a smile, his tawny eyes hard. ‘Just somewhere away from this noise,’ he mocked.

That ‘somewhere’ turned out to be his office on the top floor. He took her through the spacious adjoining sitting-room, switching on the lights to move to the drinks cabinet. ‘Brandy, I think,’ he murmured, pouring some into a glass before handing it to her. ‘Where was your husband while all that was going on?’ he snapped in a harsh voice.

‘He—he stepped outside for some air,’ she invented, sipping the brandy, and instantly beginning to choke as the fiery liquid hit the back of her throat.

Matthew came forward to pat her gently on the back. ‘Good grief, girl,’ he said impatiently, ‘anyone would think you'd never drunk brandy before!’

‘I haven't,’ she choked, tears wetting her cheeks.

He raised his eyes heavenwards. ‘How old are you? Ah yes, twenty-five,’ he answered his own question. ‘But you don't like to socialise.’

It was a statement that didn't really require an answer, so she didn't proffer one.

‘Your husband likes to—socialise,’ he continued, his mouth twisting contemptuously.

‘Yes,’ she acknowledged huskily.

‘But you don't?’ he persisted.

‘No.’

‘You didn't attend the dance last year with your husband, did you.’

Jessica evaded his eyes. ‘No.’

‘Why not?’ he rasped. ‘Office parties are notorious for starting—affairs.’

She looked up now, meeting his probing gaze unflinchingly. ‘Are they?’ she asked uninterestedly.

‘Yes,’ he hissed. ‘Why weren't you here last year?’

Jessica looked down at her hands. ‘My little girl was ill,’ she mumbled, knowing she would have done her best to get out of it even if Penny hadn't been ill, as she had tried to this time, to no avail. ‘I—stayed at home to take care of her.’

‘But your husband didn't feel the same necessity?’ he snapped.

She shrugged. ‘It was only a cold, I didn't see why we should both miss the—fun.’

‘Fun …?’ Matthew repeated slowly, his gaze searching, disbelieving. ‘Do you like to have—fun?’ he asked softly.

‘I—No—I——’ She stood up. ‘I think I would like to rejoin Andrew now,’ she told Matthew coldly.

‘No!’ It was almost a shout, and Matthew was at her side within seconds. ‘I'm sorry, I didn't mean to imply—God, I don't know what I mean any more!’ he groaned in an aching voice.

Jessica only had time to raise startled eyes before she felt herself being pulled into his arms, his mouth slowly lowering towards hers. ‘No!’ She flinched away from him, but he just kept right on coming, his mouth taking possession of hers.

It was five years since she had been kissed by anyone except Penny, and that firm cruel-looking mouth felt strange on hers, his lips moving sensually against hers, remorselessly so.

Jessica didn't respond or resist, standing impassive in his arms until he at last released her. His face was white, his expression grim. ‘So you do love your husband after all,’ he said harshly, pushing her away from him.

‘Yes,’ she said emotionlessly, knowing that nothing could be further from the truth. She had stopped feeling anything but fear of Andrew years ago.

Matthew swallowed hard. ‘I'll take you back to the dance.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Jessica——’

‘Andrew will be looking for me.’ She looked at him with unwavering eyes.

‘Like hell he will!’ he exploded. ‘He—Oh, never mind!’ he dismissed impatiently. ‘I'll take you back downstairs, if that's what you want.’ He hesitated, as if hoping she would say it wasn't.

‘It is,’ she said firmly.

They didn't talk at all going back down in the lift, both seemingly lost in their own thoughts—Jessica's tortuous.

Matthew Sinclair was the only other man to kiss her besides Andrew, and he had kissed totally unlike her husband. His lips had been gentle, searching, anxious to evoke a response within her, asking for that response.

And hadn't she felt the stirrings of that response, a gravitation to the warmth after so many years of coldness? Heavens, she was a married woman, had a child, and yet she had let a complete stranger hold her in his arms and kiss her!

But why had Matthew Sinclair kissed her? Did he think that because Andrew had affairs she was the same, that they were one of these so-called ‘modern’ couples who had sexual relationships outside marriage?

If he had he hadn't received the response he wanted. But the kiss had unsettled her, shown her that she wasn't as immune to physical warmth as she had always thought she was, as Andrew had convinced her she was.

Frigid, Andrew said she was. Well, she might be, but that one brief kiss of Matthew Sinclair's had shown her that frigid or not she liked to be held against another human being, to feel cared for, protected. After five years of Andrew's jibes and insults the other man's show of warmth, if not true affection, had caused an ache of longing she had thought buried deep within her, an ache for something she had never known—something she would never know!

She was married to Andrew, would stay married to Andrew, and despite the constant stream of women in his life she knew she would never turn to another man. Why face the name-calling and bitterness for a second time in her life? There was something missing from her body, something fundamental, that prevented her giving or receiving pleasure from any man.

‘I'm sorry,’ Matthew said abruptly at her side.

Jessica looked at him with pain-filled eyes, knowing that he apologised as much for what he had briefly thought about her as for the way he had kissed her. ‘Yes.’ Her voice was emotionless through years of practice.

‘I have no excuse for what happened just now,’ he continued stiffly.

They stepped out of the lift together, the dance sounding noisier than ever. ‘It isn't important,’ she dismissed, already looking for Andrew.

Painful fingers bit into her arm. ‘It is to me,’ Matthew ground out. ‘I'm not in the habit of kissing married women.’

Jessica turned to look at him; his face was harsh, a pulse beating erratically at his jaw. No, he wouldn't be in the habit of kissing a woman who belonged to another man. The pride in his brow, the forbidding line of his mouth told her that he deeply regretted it had happened this time.

‘I have no intention of telling my husband——’

‘Your husband!’ he cut in angrily, his tawny eyes blazing. ‘I couldn't give a damn about your husband. It's you I'm apologising to, not him.’

‘And I've accepted that apology,’ she told him in a puzzled voice, not understanding why he was so angry.

His eyes darkened. ‘Jessica—Oh, why the hell did you have to be married!’ He swore before walking off, anyone who was in his path quickly getting out of the way.

Jessica turned away, knowing she had seen the last of Matthew Sinclair. She knew why she was married, why she was still married despite Andrew's affair—because of Penny, because of the one person who meant anything in her life. Every time Andrew's behaviour became too much for her she would take one look at her young daughter and know it was all worth it.

‘Where the hell have you been?’

Andrew wasn't smiling charmingly this time, he was scowling heavily, and he wasn't alone either. Alicia was clinging to his arm—and looking as if she had a perfect right to be there! Her expression was blatantly insolent as she looked down at Jessica, at least six inches taller, and very sure of her own beauty.

‘Jessica,’ Andrew prompted impatiently, ‘I asked you a question.’

She blushed her resentment of the other woman listening to the conversation, knowing that Alicia was aware of her discomfort. ‘I wasn't the one who disappeared, Andrew, you were.’ Her voice was more aggressive than ever before—but then she had never been humiliated in front of one of Andrew's mistresses before!

He flushed angrily. ‘We—I only stepped outside for a moment. You were talking to Ed Taylor when I left the room.’

‘I wasn't talking to him,’ she mumbled. ‘He was insulting me.’

‘Ed was?’ Andrew laughed his disbelief. ‘The trouble with you, Jessica, is that you're too damned sensitive.’

And he was totally insensitive! It didn't even occur to him to keep his wife and mistress apart, not even when he knew she was aware of his relationship with the other woman.

‘Perhaps,’ she agreed tightly. ‘But I know when I'm being insulted,’ and she looked almost challengingly at Alicia.

‘I think she means me, darling,’ Alicia drawled, her voice deep and husky, sexy, men probably thought.

Andrew frowned and gave Jessica a sharp look. ‘Of course she doesn't,’ he dismissed, being used to a more subdued and obedient Jessica.

‘Darling,’ Alicia purred, ‘why don't you go and get—Jessica and me a drink? I'm sure we would both like one.’

‘I——’

‘Okay,’ Andrew cut through Jessica's dismayed protest. ‘I won't be long.’

‘Take your time,’ Alicia murmured softly. ‘I'm sure Jessica and I can find—something to talk about—a mutual interest, perhaps.’

Jessica knew that the only thing she had in common with this woman was Andrew, and he knew it too, giving a rather cruel smile in her direction before going to the bar.

‘Shall we sit down?’ Alicia suggested softly.

Jessica seated herself opposite the other woman, knowing they were the centre of attention. They knew, all these people knew, and her humiliation was complete as she saw Matthew Sinclair watching them some distance away, in conversation with another man, although his gaze was fixed on her.

She looked away before that fierce gaze gave way to pity. Matthew Sinclair's sympathy was the one thing she couldn't take right now. No wonder he had tried to kiss her upstairs in his office—he obviously knew of Andrew's affair with his secretary!

‘Why don't you let him go?’ The purring quality had gone from Alicia's voice, the hardness in her beautiful face now evident in her voice too.

Jessica blinked dazedly, frowning at the other woman. ‘I beg your pardon?’

Alicia's mouth twisted. ‘Andrew doesn't love you, so why don't you let him go?’

She swallowed hard, shaking her head. ‘I don't know what you're talking about.’ And she didn't. If Andrew had wanted to leave her she knew there was no way she could stop him.

Alicia was angry now. ‘Andrew told me how you refuse to divorce him, that you use your daughter to hold him——’

‘That isn't true!’ Jessica gasped at the irony of it.

The other woman's expression was scathing. ‘I've heard about women like you, I've even met a couple, but I can tell you now that you've met your match in me. Andrew and I want to get married, the only thing stopping us is you. I mean to have you out of his life, Jessica. I'm even willing to put up with the child to get him.’

‘Child?’ Jessica paled, her hands clenching. ‘You mean Penny?’

‘Yes—I mean Penny,’ Alicia scorned.

‘You aren't taking my daughter from me!’ Her breath was coming in short disturbed gasps, her eyes huge in her pale face.

‘Believe me,’ the other woman drawled, ‘I'd rather not. But Andrew is determined to keep her——'.

‘No!’ Jessica's tone was sharp with distress. ‘No one is going to take Penny away from me. No one!’ Her voice rose hysterically at the thought of life without Penny.

‘Hey, calm down!’ Alicia looked about them selfconsciously. ‘Maybe I chose the wrong place to discuss this——’

‘Anywhere would be the wrong place to discuss taking my child from me!’ Two bright spots of colour heightened Jessica's cheeks. ‘I won't let you——’

‘Jessica, for God's sake!’ Andrew had returned unnoticed by either woman. ‘People can hear you!’ he muttered, sitting down.

‘Really?’ Her eyes glittered. ‘And do you think they aren't hearing what they already know? I'd like to go home,’ she told him coldly.

‘I've just got you a drink——’

‘I want to go,’ she repeated firmly. ‘Either you take me or I get a taxi.’

He frowned. ‘Jess——’

‘Then I'll take a taxi.’ She stood up, moving with as much confidence as she could towards the exit, and took the lift down to the ground floor.

‘Jessica!’ Andrew caught up with her in the car park, swinging her round to face him. ‘How dare you talk to me like that in front of Lisa?’ He flushed with anger.

‘How dare you use me?’ she returned furiously.

‘I—What do you mean?’ he frowned.

‘I've just been informed by your girl-friend that I'm the only thing stopping you marrying her.’

‘And aren't you?’ he snapped.

‘You know I'm not!’ she flushed. ‘How many other women have you told the same thing so that you're free from any commitment to marry them?’ she scorned.

‘Hundreds,’ his mouth twisted, ‘and it worked every time. I just explain to them that I have this frigid little wife at home who'll deprive me of my child if I so much as mention divorce.’

‘Well, tonight Alicia mentioned it for you,’ Jessica snapped disgustedly. ‘So maybe you just weren't convincing enough for her.’

His eyes glittered, his dark good looks contorted with rage. ‘Maybe I didn't want to be. Lisa is my kind of woman—she likes to act like a woman,’ he added cruelly. ‘And she has brains too. Yes, maybe I just might marry her after all.’

‘No …’ she paled.

‘Yes,’ he said with enjoyment. ‘The other women never meant a thing to me, but Lisa is different. I wouldn't at all mind being married to her. Not that you haven't had your uses oyer the years,’ he added scathingly. ‘You've been a good deterrent to marriage-minded women. God, that's the only reason I stayed married to you,’ he laughed. ‘You have little else to offer.’

His laugh was the final insult as far as Jessica was concerned. She had taken too much tonight already—Matthew Sinclair's strange behaviour, Ed Taylor's insults, pitying looks from almost everyone who looked at her, Alicia's ‘friendly’ little chat, and now this definite threat of divorce from Andrew, and so cruelly given.

Her hand seemed to rise almost in slow motion, hitting the side of Andrew's face with such force that for a moment he seemed to stagger.

But he soon regained his balance, his eyes glittering dangerously as he advanced towards her. Jessica didn't even flinch as he coldly, calculatedly, hit her back.

There had been too much violence from him in the past for it to matter to her; she did not even feel the pain any more. Andrew was one of those men who hit out when he was angry. For herself she had ceased to care, and as long as he didn't use that same violence on Penny she would continue to cease caring.

‘I'm going back to the dance,’ he growled. ‘I could be home later, but then again I may just stay out all night. And I mean it about the divorce, Jessica. And you know what that means?’ he sneered.

Pain contracted her chest. ‘Penny …’

‘Yes!’ His smile was cruel in the extreme. ‘You aren't a fit mother for her, we both know that. Lisa will be much better for her.’ He turned and strode away, a tall, athletic-looking man with rakish good looks.

Jessica had ceased to be aware of those looks long ago; she knew only raging pain at this moment. Never! She would never allow Alicia to be Penny's mother.

The taxi-driver must have thought her very strange as she sat silently in the back of the car—especially as he had to accompany her to the door so that she could pay him!

‘Had a row with your hubby, have you?’ he said cheerfully, handing her the change. ‘Never mind, love, it happens to the best of us.’

‘Yes,’ she agreed jerkily. ‘I—Thank you.’

‘ ’Night, love,’ and he whistled tunelessly as he returned to his taxi.

Peg was frowning when Jessica joined her in the lounge. Penny was asleep on the sofa, her mischievous face angelic. ‘Have you?’ she asked softly so as not to wake the child. ‘Argued with Andrew, I mean?’

She shrugged, having eyes only for Penny. ‘I'll get her up to bed now,’ she bent to lift her daughter into her arms, the small blonde head resting trustingly on her shoulder as she carried her up the stairs.

‘I tried myself a couple of times,’ Peg told her softly, following to fold back the bedclothes. ‘She began to wake up each time I touched her.’

‘I know,’ Jessica nodded, smoothing her daughter's hair back on the pillow and tucking the bedclothes about her. ‘She always does with anyone but me.’ Her eyes filled with tears as she looked down at her daughter.

Peg frowned as she followed her out of the room. ‘Is there anything I can do, Jessica?’

‘No.’ She blinked back the tears, leaving the night-light on in Penny's room as she closed the bedroom door.

‘But you have argued with Andrew?’ Peg persisted.

‘Yes,’ she sighed, ‘you could say that.’ She chewed on her bottom lip. ‘He—he wants a divorce.’

‘He what?’

‘A divorce.’ They were back in the lounge now, the tears at last spilling down on to her cheeks. ‘Andrew wants a divorce,’ she repeated brokenly, her face buried in her hands.

‘He wants one?’ Peg gasped disbelievingly, sitting down to put her arms about the sobbing Jessica. ‘After the abuse you take from him …! Well, don't worry, love,’ she said angrily. ‘George and I will take care of you—and Penny, of course.’

Penny. Dear God, Penny! Jessica sat up suddenly, knowing what she had to do. I'm going away, Peg. Tonight. I——’

‘You can't go this time of night!’ Her friend was scandalised. ‘Come next door and stay with George and me for a few days, until Andrew comes to his senses.’

Next door! ‘No, I have to get away,’ Jessica insisted, standing up. ‘I have to go somewhere Andrew can't find us.’

‘Maybe he had just had too much to drink,’ Peg encouraged. ‘He'll probably have forgotten all about it by the time he comes home.’

‘He isn't coming home—at least, not tonight,’ Jessica said bitterly, and she knew that when he did he wouldn't have changed his mind. Andrew was determined this time.

‘But where is he—Oh,’ Peg blushed, realisation dawning. ‘At least leave it until the morning, love. If he isn't coming back tonight there's no rush, is there?’

‘No,’ Jessica acknowledged slowly.

‘Sleep on it, Jessica,’ her friend suggested. ‘You can't just go off into the night.’

No, she couldn't. She had until morning to make her plans properly, find somewhere to stay where Andrew couldn't find them. Besides, it would disturb Penny to wake her now, would frighten her. Things were going to be traumatic enough without Penny becoming upset.

‘You're right,’ she told Peg. ‘I'll leave in the morning.’

‘I'm sure you won't need to do that,’ Peg patted her hand comfortingly. ‘Once Andrew thinks this over, about how much you love him, I'm sure he'll change his mind about the divorce.’

How much she loved him …! She might have loved Andrew once, in fact she knew she had, but she certainly didn't love him now. Her love had been that of an adolescent who needed someone to care for her, and she soon realised the disillusionment of that.

‘Maybe,’ she agreed with Peg, knowing that it wasn't true. She had known it would end one day, had dreaded it, and she knew without question that this was it. Andrew might change his mind, given time, he had done it in the past often enough, but Alicia wouldn't. She was determined to get Andrew, and Jessica doubted the other woman was denied much that she wanted.

‘I'm sure I'm right,’ Peg encouraged.

‘Yes, of course you are.’ Jessica gave a bright smile, hating having to deceive her friend, but knowing that not even to Peg could she tell the truth. ‘You go on home now, George will be getting worried.’

‘Are you sure …?’

‘Of course,’ Jessica nodded.

‘You'll be all right?’

‘Yes,’ she smiled.

‘Well … All right, then. But don't hesitate to call if you need anything,’ Peg offered.

‘I won't,’ Jessica assured her friend.

She spent the next hour packing her own and Penny's things. It was amazing how much had been accumulated, not so much by her, but by Penny, all of her daughter's toys suddenly seeming necessary.

She had called a quiet unobtrusive hotel in London and booked a room for Penny and herself, knowing she would have to get well away from this small eastern town. London seemed the only choice. It was big and impersonal, the place where thousands of people went missing each year. Andrew couldn't possibly find them there.

But he would look for them, she knew that. Whenever the divorce threats came up he always warned her that any move to take Penny away from him would be met by opposition. Not that he spent a great deal of time with their daughter, he just wasn't going to let Jessica have her.

She jumped nervously as the front doorbell rang a little after twelve, wondering who it could be. It couldn't be Andrew, he had his own key. Unless he had forgotten it …!

She frantically hid the suitcases and bag in her bedroom before running down the stairs to answer the door, still wearing her evening dress. If it was Andrew he was already impatient, the doorbell ringing for a third time before she managed to open the door, looking up breathlessly at the man who stood there.

‘Mr Sinclair!’ she gasped dazedly.

Matthew Sinclair looked at her with dark tawny eyes, his face white and haggard, his hair golden. ‘I didn't get you out of bed …?’ His voice was husky.

She looked pointedly down at the blue dress. ‘No,’ she confirmed softly. ‘Is there anything I can do to help you, Mr Sinclair?’

He seemed at a loss for words, swallowing convulsively. ‘I—I think we should both sit down,’ he said at length. ‘Could we perhaps——’

‘Andrew?’ she queried sharply, sensing something disastrous here, dismissing the idea that Matthew Sinclair had come here to carry on his flirtation. He would never be so nervous about that, and he was nervous, extremely so. ‘Has something happened to Andrew?’ her voice rose sharply.

‘Jessica——’ His eyes were full of compassion.

‘Tell me!’ She clutched on to his arm, searching his pale features for what he seemed unable to tell her. ‘I—Is he—Is Andrew——’

‘He's dead, Jessica,’ Matthew told her in a pained voice. ‘I don't know how else to tell you! There was an accident, and——’

She didn't hear any more; she fell slowly to the ground with a gentle thud.

CHAPTER THREE

WHEN she woke up she was lying full length on the sofa, carried there by Matthew Sinclair, who now bent over her anxiously, his face pale.

Jessica looked at him with dull, lifeless eyes. ‘Andrew—he—he's really dead?’ she choked.

‘Yes.’

‘Oh God!’ She buried her face in her hands, crying as if she would never stop, then felt herself taken into strong arms, held gently against the firmness of Matthew Sinclair's chest. His shirt felt soft against her cheek, and she could feel her tears soaking through it on to his skin.

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