Velvet Promise

‘Only as you know them,’ she said quietly.

‘As they were,’ Jordan hit out harshly. ‘Russell was devastated when you left him and took Dani with you. The divorce almost finished him completely.’

She was well aware of Russell’s feelings. Just as she was aware of her own. And her only emotion at the time of the divorce had been relief—and freedom. ‘I didn’t come to Jersey to discuss the past—’

‘Why did you come back here?’ His eyes were dark velvet.

‘As you’ve already pointed out, I’m a businesswoman,’ she stated calmly, ‘and this trip will combine business and Dani’s visit to her grandparents.’

‘I take it you will be attending this visit with her?’ he drawled.

She gave him a sharply searching look. ‘Of course. Is there some objection to that?’

‘None at all,’ he returned smoothly. ‘How long do you intend staying on the island?’

Her mouth twisted at the bluntness of the question. ‘Are you part of the same security that requires all visitors to the island to sign a police register when you book into the hotel?’ she taunted.

‘No.’ His harsh tone told her he was far from amused. ‘But you must have some idea how long you intend staying.’

Willow frowned. ‘I’d planned to stay until Thursday,’ she told him somewhat warily; what did it matter to him how long she stayed? ‘I have a fashion show to finish arranging for early next month.’

‘I see.’ Jordan put down his empty glass on the table, his expression thoughtful.

Willow eyed him suspiciously. He seemed uneasy about something, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like that something. ‘Jordan, what is it?’ she prompted nervously.

‘Has the island changed much since you were here last?’ he enquired lightly.

‘It’s as beautiful as ever,’ she dismissed tersely. ‘Now tell me what’s wrong.’ Because something definitely was!

He raised arrogant dark brows at the demand. ‘Nothing is wrong.’ He looked out along the bay. ‘It’s rare that I actually have the time to stand still long enough to take in the beauty of St Brelade’s Bay,’ he murmured softly. ‘I forget just how lovely it is here sometimes.’

As one of the numerous financial advisers on the island, Jordan was an extremely busy man, the island being a thriving financial centre with its enviable rate of tax and other benefits. And yet Willow wasn’t sidetracked by his observations at all, knowing he was keeping something from her.

‘You may as well tell me, Jordan,’ she prompted tautly. ‘If you don’t I’ll have to ask Simone,’ she added threateningly, knowing how all the men in the family were protective of the tiny woman who had somehow managed to conceal her steely heart and determined nature from them all.

His mouth tightened at the threat, his eyes narrowed. ‘You’re out of your league with me, Willow,’ he told her softly.

She didn’t so much as blink at his tone of menace, watching as a grudging respect for her entered his eyes. He could keep his damned respect; she just wanted some straight answers! ‘I mean it, Jordan,’ she challenged.

‘So do I,’ he rasped.

A shiver of apprehension rippled down her spine, but there was no outward sign of her disturbed emotions as she continued to silently meet his gaze, willing him to talk to her.

Jordan’s gaze was finally the one to turn away. ‘You’ve turned into a veritable tigress, haven’t you?’ he scorned.

‘I’ve merely become a survivor,’ she bit out.

He shrugged. ‘It may not even happen. He’s said he was coming before and then changed his mind without warning. Simone——’

‘He?’ Willow echoed sharply. ‘You mean Russell, don’t you?’ Her unlacquered nails dug into the palms of her hands, her body rigid with tension. ‘Are you telling me he’s coming here?’

Jordan gave another dismissive shrug. ‘He only said he might visit Simone and David some time this week; nothing definite has been planned.’

‘Did he know Dani and I were going to be here?’ she demanded to know.

‘I doubt it, although Simone may have mentioned it to him. For God’s sake, don’t look so stricken; you were married to him once,’ Jordan added disgustedly.

Russell. Here. Russell, with the laughing blue eyes, overlong dark hair, and with the body of a Greek god. It had been a year since she had last seen him, the first six months of that time spent expecting to see him every time she opened the door or turned a corner, the next six months spent grateful that she hadn’t.

It was this last year of peace and tranquillity that had given her the hope he had changed during that time.

But maybe he hadn’t.

CHAPTER TWO

WILLOW’S first instinct when she crawled out of bed the next morning after a sleepless night was to run, and to keep running. But she had done that when she finally managed to leave him, and he had only found her again, refusing to stay out of her life. Maybe it was time to stand and face him. She didn’t really have any choice; knew, for Dani’s sake, that she couldn’t keep running away from Russell. And maybe, just maybe, he would decide not to come here after all. It was a cowardly wish, but then she had never professed to be anything else.

While Barbara took Dani down on to the beach in front of the hotel, Willow drove into St Helier to visit her new shop, confident she could concentrate on business with the other woman in charge of Dani. The amount of customers in the shop, despite the early hour, showed her she had indeed chosen well for her third location.

It was good to see Marilyn again; she had been in charge of the London shop until moving here; the two of them were old friends. For someone who hadn’t been sure she could adjust to living on an island only forty-five square miles in size, Marilyn had adjusted very well, and was ecstatic about the beautiful weather and the friendliness of the islanders.

Willow enjoyed helping out in the shop for the morning, caught up with the last three months’ gossip with Marilyn in between working, and was satisfied that everything was running smoothly there before she left shortly after twelve, sure that the new lines she would be introducing at the fashion show next month would go over very well here.

She had told Barbara and Dani that she would join them back at the hotel for lunch, and she was buoyed up with the success of her morning as she went down to join them on the beach, coming to a halt part way down the steps as she saw the dark-haired man sitting with them on the sand, with Dani chatting away to him as if the two of them were old friends.

Then the man turned, and Willow’s breath left her body in a ragged sigh as she saw it was Jordan seated there. For a moment she had thought Dani was right, that Russell and Jordan did look alike from certain angles.

Jordan stood up as she approached them, brushing the sand from his hands as he did so. His eyes narrowed as his gaze moved searchingly over her deathly white face. He was dressed casually today, loose white trousers and an equally loose white shirt, the latter with its buccaneer style more fashionable than anything else Willow had ever seen him wear.

The white clothes looked magnificent against his dark skin and colouring, and once again Willow was unwillingly reminded that he was a very attractive man. In the past she had always been too engrossed with being Russell’s wife to really see Jordan in that way, but twice in as many days she had been made physically aware of him. She didn’t like the feeling.

Jordan had never left her in any doubt that he regarded the majority of the female sex with contempt and, although he was sexually in the prime of life for a man, Willow had rarely seen him with a woman, let alone take one home with him. Russell had occasionally hinted at an unhappy love affair in Jordan’s past, but she had never been interested enough to ask what it had been. Now she wished that she had. She had a feeling that with this man it was best to have all the aces in the deck.

‘Mummy!’ Dani’s face lit up as she spotted her; she ran across the golden sand, silver braids flying in the warm breeze, to launch herself into Willow’s arms. ‘Have you finished work for today?’ she asked hopefully.

Willow glanced at Jordan before answering, sensing his silent disapproval of the career that had taken her away from her daughter for the morning, the career he had said she didn’t need. She turned back to Dani. Did she neglect this beautiful child in favour of her career? Trips like this one to Jersey were rare, as were the ones to New York, and Dani always accompanied her when she did have to go away, albeit in Barbara’s care. But she always took care of her business in London while Dani was in kindergarten, her designs usually being created when Dani was in bed for the night.

No matter what Jordan thought to the contrary she was sure she gave more of her time and love to Dani than a lot of women in her position could, or did. And there was always Barbara.

‘For today,’ she confirmed lightly, studiously avoiding Jordan’s gaze as she turned to admire the huge sandcastle Dani had built during the morning, slipping off her sandals to dig her toes into the sensuous warmth of the sand, knowing she looked cool and comfortable in the emerald green shirtwaister with its wide black belt. ‘Everything OK, Barbara?’ She looked searchingly at the other woman as she watched them from her sitting position on the sand.

‘Fine,’ Barbara assured her briskly. ‘Mr St James has been helping us build a moat for the castle.’

‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Dani still clung to Willow’s hand. ‘Uncle Jordan said he would show me a real castle tomorrow. You have to walk out to it across the sea, and——’

‘The causeway is under the sea, Dani,’ Jordan corrected indulgently. ‘You can’t walk out to the castle unless the tide is out; we have to use an amphibious craft to cross before then. And I only said we would go if Mummy agreed,’ he added with gentle reproval.

It sounded as if Jordan had been on the beach for some time, building the moat and suggesting outings to Dani, and she couldn’t help but feel curious about his motive. He had left her last night shortly after telling her of Russell’s proposed visit to his parents; maybe Jordan thought she would go back to England before she had to face such a meeting, She certainly didn’t relish the idea of seeing Russell again, but she had told Simone and David she would take Dani to see them, and she wouldn’t go back on her word.

‘Mummy?’ Dani prompted worriedly at her mother’s lack of response.

Willow smiled down at her daughter. ‘I can take you out to Elizabeth Castle myself, Dani, if you would like to see it. I’m sure Uncle Jordan is too busy at work to take any more time off.’ She looked at him challengingly, suspicious of his suggestion to Dani; he had never given the impression that he even liked children, and yet here he was making sandcastles and offering to take Dani out tomorrow.

He shrugged broad shoulders, the loose shirt moving against the strength of his body. ‘The world of finance can do without me for a few days,’ he dismissed. ‘I’m sure Dani would enjoy the Castle.’

Willow couldn’t stop the protective action of placing her hands possessively on Dani’s thin shoulders, her daughter looked small and vulnerable in the red bathing costume that made her look all gangling arms and legs. ‘As I said, if she wants to go I’ll take her. Or Barbara will,’ she added determinedly.

Brown eyes narrowed, but whatever Jordan had been about to say remained unsaid as Barbara suggested to Dani that the two of them go for a swim in the sea. Dani ran off with a wild whoop of delight, confident that the adults would decide who was to take her to see the Castle, and Barbara had to run after her to catch up with her before she plunged into the cold water.

The warmth of love faded from Willow’s eyes as she turned back to Jordan. ‘It was kind of you take the morning off work to spend time with Dani.’ There was dismissal in her voice, and she knew by the flash of anger in the velvet eyes that Jordan had heard it—and didn’t like it!

He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers, heated anger emanating from his body. ‘How was the shop?’ he bit out.

‘It seems to be doing well,’ she answered, as coolly as he, narrowing her eyes against the sun to watch Dani cavorting in the shallow water.

Jordan nodded. ‘I have several friends who said they’ve shopped there.’

She turned to him with widened eyes; it was the first time she had ever heard him admit there were women friends in his life. ‘At the moment most of them are still curious to see the little toy Russell Stewart’s wife found to amuse herself with after the divorce,’ she derided. ‘Let’s hope they’ll still come in to buy once that curiosity wears off!’

He frowned at her self-derision. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong about their motives. Your designs are considered to be very fresh and feminine.’

‘They are,’ she said without conceit; every one of her designs, but especially the evening gowns she specialised in, was aimed at the softer more feminine side of woman that had been lacking in fashions of recent years. ‘But I met several of Simone’s set there this morning, and they were not just interested in the clothes!’

‘You always did have this strange idea that Simone’s friends disliked you,’ he dismissed with ill-disguised impatience.

‘Despised me,’ she corrected hardly. ‘The daughter of one of Russell’s own employees daring to marry a Stewart!’ She shook her head mockingly. ‘They all expected some little country bumpkin; and I certainly didn’t disappoint them!’

It wasn’t true about the ‘country bumpkin’ image; she had never lived outside the hub of London. But at seventeen, still a college student, and so obviously pregnant, she had felt gauche and unsophisticated when Russell had brought her to his parents’ home to live and introduced her to the people who were his friends, and who would be her friends too, now that she was his wife.

There had been little chance of that! She was the daughter of a salesman, her clothes were obviously made from inexpensive materials, even though they were original designs she had made herself. And she had known nothing of the privileged life those people led, with their sophisticated parties and designer-label clothes. Their morals could never be called sophisticated, only alley-cat, and she had wanted no part of that either. Although that was one thing Russell didn’t subject her to, making it obvious from the first that she was his exclusive property. Everyone thought it very amusing that Russell actually seemed in love with his pregnant child-bride, although it couldn’t be said he had set a fashion, as his friends continued their bedroom games.

‘You were the one who despised us,’ Jordan rasped grimly, also seeming to remember that time well. ‘Looking down that turned up nose of yours at the spoilt and privileged rich! How does it feel to be one of us?’ he taunted.

Her eyes flashed deeply green. ‘I’m far from being spoilt. And I’m certainly not privileged either. I had to work, and work hard, for what I have today.’

‘That isn’t what Russell’s lawyer said after the divorce,’ he scorned. ‘Russell gave you everything you asked for, and more. The poor fool was still in love 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, please! Mummy?’ Dani hesitated, looking at her uncertainly.

‘Grandad makes a lovely ice-cornet,’ Willow encouraged huskily, a lump in her throat as the two of them walked out of the room hand in hand, Dani telling her grandfather about kindergarten. Although their departure served to leave an awkward silence behind them.

‘How are you, Willow?’ Simone finally enquired coolly.

‘Well, thank you. You?’ Willow returned as distantly.

‘The same,’ the other woman drawled. ‘Sit down, won’t you?’

Jordan hadn’t spoken a word since she and Dani had come into the room, and she glanced at him quizzically as she sat down. Why had he bothered to come here at all today if he was just going to stand there like some disapproving statue? Why was he here? He didn’t live here any more, and she had presumed he would be going in to his office this afternoon after missing this morning.