Captive Loving

‘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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