His Wedding-Night Heir

She lifted her chin. ‘It was something I had to do. I felt I had no choice.’ She hesitated. ‘What—what did you tell people?’

‘I couldn’t manage the truth,’ he said. ‘Because I didn’t know what it was. I had no farewell note—no “Dear John” blotched with penitent tears to point me in the right direction. So I simply let it be known that you’d had a change of heart, however late in the day, and that we’d agreed to separate.’

He paused. ‘You see, my sweet, at first I didn’t realise what had happened. You’d taken the car, so originally I assumed there’d been an accident. I wasted a hell of a lot of time making increasingly frantic hospital calls, until the police called to say they’d picked up some kids joy-riding. They’d stolen your car from a station car park twenty miles away and written it off. The guy in the ticket office there recognised you from our engagement photograph—now, there’s an irony—and said you’d bought a ticket to London. One way.’ His mouth twisted harshly. ‘That, of course, put an entirely new slant on the situation.’

Cally looked down at the tablecloth, tracing meaningless patterns on the white linen with her forefinger. ‘So you did—go looking for me?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘Not at first. Frankly, I was too bloody angry. So I thought, To hell with it. And her.’

‘You should have left it like that.’

‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘But I too underwent a change of heart.’

There was a loaded silence, then she said jerkily, ‘How—how did you know where to find me?’

‘Except for those first weeks, I’ve always known where to find you.’

A shiver chilled her spine, and she closed her eyes momentarily. ‘And I thought I’d managed to cover my tracks. That if I kept moving I’d drop out of sight.’

‘Oh, finding you was the easy part,’ he said sardonically. ‘Deciding what to do about it was trickier.’ He paused. ‘There was a time, you see, when I thought you might come back. That you might find living with me marginally preferable to slaving away in various greasy spoons.’ The grey eyes met hers. ‘But you never did.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Because I thought I was free. It never occurred to me that I was simply on the end of a long rope.’

There was a silence, then he said, ‘What made you come here?’

She shrugged. ‘It’s the same as any other place. And it seemed—anonymous.’

He said drily, ‘It’s about to undergo a revival. Someone’s decided the town has commuter possibilities. Hence Gunners Wharf.’

‘And hence your presence here, too.’ Her voice was taut.

‘It seemed too good an opportunity to miss,’ he said slowly, and she knew he was not referring to the development. Or not solely. And felt her heartbeat falter in panic.

She said hurriedly, ‘Eastern Crest—is that a new acquisition? I didn’t recognise the name…’

‘Well, darling,’ he drawled, ‘you haven’t been around much, keeping up. And without you to divert my attention I’ve had more time to devote to acquisitions and mergers.’ He paused. ‘And if you’d recognised the name, you’d have done—what?’

There was another silence, then she said wearily, ‘I don’t know. Running and trying to hide has clearly been futile. And I suppose we needed to meet eventually, to discuss what to do about the divorce. But why at this particular time?’

‘I was told you were seeing someone,’ Nick said expressionlessly. ‘So it seemed an opportune moment to intervene. Your colleague, Mr Matlock, appeared upset to hear you were married,’ he added pensively. ‘I do hope, darling, you haven’t been making promises you’re not entitled to keep.’

‘I’m “seeing” no one,’ Cally said through gritted teeth. ‘And Kit has no reason to feel aggrieved. So you could have easily saved yourself the inconvenience.’

‘Yet, as you say, we needed to meet—to talk about the future. So this became the time—and the place.’ His smile was brief and without warmth. ‘And apart from the implicit defiance in your voice and body language, you’ve hardly changed at all, my love.’

‘Perhaps the defiance was always there,’ she said. ‘But you didn’t notice.’

‘I noticed a hell of a lot,’ he said quietly. ‘And I was prepared to make allowances. Only you never gave me that chance. You preferred to bolt as if I was some kind of mad axe murderer.’

‘No,’ she said. ‘Nothing so dramatic. Simply because I wasn’t going to live my life on your terms.’

His brows lifted. ‘Did I impose any conditions? I can’t recall them.’

‘You made me become your wife,’ she said, her throat tightening. ‘That involves—obligations.’

‘Ah,’ he said softly. ‘In plain words, you didn’t want to sleep with me.’ He gave her a meditative look. ‘Admittedly, we didn’t have a conventional courtship, but you never gave the impression at the time that you found me particularly repulsive.’

Cally bit her lip. ‘Well, you know now.’

‘In fact,’ Nick went on, as if she hadn’t spoken, ‘there were moments when the indications seemed distinctly favourable. Or did I imagine that?’

No, thought Cally, a tide of unwilling colour rising in her face. You didn’t imagine it—damn you.

She said stiffly, ‘You’d naturally prefer to think so, of course. You wouldn’t want a dent in that irresistible image of yours.’

‘If I’d ever been conceited enough to entertain such a notion,’ he returned icily, ‘you’d have shattered it for ever when you ran away.’

‘But I’m sure you’ve had consolation,’ she flung at him, and could have bitten out her tongue. She had not meant to say that.

‘Why, darling—’ Nick’s tone changed to mockery ‘—did you really expect me to soothe my wounded feelings by staying celibate?’

‘And do you really expect me to care—one way or the other?’

As long as I’m not there to see it…

The thought flashed, unbidden, and was instantly suppressed. Even to admit as much damaged the mental and emotional barriers she’d so carefully constructed against him, and she couldn’t afford that.

In fact, she couldn’t afford any of this…

She took a deep breath. ‘Nick—let’s stop here and now, or we shall only say things we’ll regret. Why don’t we just—draw a line, let our respective lawyers deal with the rest of it?’

‘Because you’re assuming,’ he said, ‘that I share your wish for a divorce.’

She said, slowly and unsteadily, ‘You can’t mean that. You can’t wish to stay married to someone who—who won’t—live with you.’

‘Of course not.’ He sounded almost brisk. ‘Naturally I want a wife who’ll share my home and my bed.’ He smiled at her, his eyes touching her—stripping her, she realised, as her heart began to flutter in panic.

‘In fact, I want you, my sweet,’ he added softly. ‘Come back to me, and in return for your charming—and willing—company, I’ll tell Matthew Hendrick to save your precious terrace and include it in the development. Turn me down, however, and the demolition crew move in next week. And that’s my final word.’

He paused. ‘So the future of Gunners Terrace rests entirely with you, darling.’

‘You can’t do this,’ Cally protested, her voice hoarse with incredulity. ‘You’re making me responsible for other people’s lives—other people’s happiness. It—it’s emotional blackmail.’

‘Now, my viewpoint is slightly different,’ he said. ‘Because you stood beside me in church and made certain vows. I remember it perfectly. You were wearing a white dress with a lot of little buttons down the front of it. Frankly, I was fantasising about undoing them all—with my teeth,’ he added, with a kind of sensuous reminiscence that made her shiver. ‘Now, at last, I want those vows fulfilled, and I really think, my sweet, that I’ve waited long enough. Even you must agree that our wedding night is long overdue.’

She said numbly, ‘You mean you’d—you’d actually force me to—to…’

‘I’ve no intention of using force,’ he told her coolly. ‘It’s high time that delightful body of yours discovered what it was made for. And, if memory serves, the last time you were in my arms you thought so too.’

Her head went back sharply, as if he had struck her. ‘What you’re suggesting is obscene. Unthinkable. You can’t think for one moment that I’d agree.’

Nick shrugged. ‘You came here tonight, Cally, of your own free will, wanting a favour. Quite a sizeable one at that. I’m now telling you the price ticket it carries. Whether you pay it, of course, is your choice alone. It depends on how strongly you feel about the survival of Gunners Terrace—these people you claim to care about so deeply.’

‘You think I’ll save them at the expense of my own life?’

‘Not the whole of it,’ he said. ‘Just the year you stole from me when you ran away. You see, I still have use for you, and that should be enough time for you to repay some of the debt you owe me—and give me what I want.’

She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘I don’t understand. You’re saying now that you want me to come back to you, but only for a limited period?’

He said quietly, ‘Just as long as it takes for you to give me a child. So make your mind up quickly, because the staff here are waiting to close.’

She stared at him, stunned and incredulous, her brain churning wildly. She was dazedly aware that what he’d said was correct. The other tables had emptied while they were talking and she hadn’t even noticed. The waiters were gathered now in a small group at the end of the room, chatting amongst themselves.

While she sat in this pool of lamplight, like a fly trapped in amber… Listening to him, but not believing what she was hearing. She heard herself laugh, the sound strained and alien.

She said, mastering her voice somehow, ‘You want me—to have your baby? You can’t honestly be serious. It’s ludicrous. Totally impossible.’

‘Ah,’ he said, ‘but I am perfectly serious. This is a question of inheritance, Cally. I want an heir—someone to come after me. Son or daughter. I don’t mind,’ he added with a curt shrug.

‘And that’s good and sufficient reason…?’ She choked over the words.

‘I inherited Wylstone Hall because I was Ranald Tempest’s only relative,’ he said. ‘But we were almost complete strangers to each other. ‘Whatever I leave will damned well go to my own flesh and blood. Not some distant relation—someone I’ve barely met.’

He paused. ‘Achieve this one thing for me, Cally, and then I’ll release you from the marriage. I won’t fight the divorce. In fact, I’ll make it easy for you.’ He paused. ‘And you’ll find me generous.’

Money, she thought. He means money. I’d probably never have to work again unless I wished it.

‘And afterwards?’ she asked, her voice shaking. ‘If I should—have a child, what happens then?’

‘That’s open to negotiation,’ he told her curtly. ‘But I suggest that in principle we share joint custody. At first, anyway.’

She stared back at him. She said faintly, ‘You must be—insane.’

‘Why? Because I want my wife to have my baby? It seems a fairly normal course of events to me.’

‘But we don’t have a normal marriage.’

‘Not at this moment, perhaps,’ he said softly. ‘But all that could change very soon.’

She said in a low voice, ‘Is that—why you married me? Because you thought I was young and strong, and you could breed from me?’

Nick shrugged. ‘We all have our own priorities,’ he said. ‘But rest assured that I also found you—highly desirable.’

Her arms went round her body in an involuntary gesture of self-protection, and she saw his mouth twist.

She said hurriedly, ‘But surely there are other women…’ She paused, swallowing. Trying to blot certain forbidden images from her mind. ‘I mean—you could divorce me quickly and find someone else. Someone who’d make you happy. Want to give you a family.’

‘Let me be blunt,’ he said. ‘I’ve had time to think during our—separation, and I’ve discovered I’ve no real taste for being a husband. One unlucky foray into matrimony is quite enough, and I have no plans to replace you.’ His faint smile was cynical. ‘Don’t they say, “Better the devil you know”?’

‘Yes,’ she said numbly. ‘Sometimes—they do.’ But it doesn’t have to be true.

‘Besides, you clearly can’t wait to get away from me,’ he added. ‘So there’s no threat of you wanting to hang around on a permanent basis.’

She said tautly, ‘Cramping your style?’

‘Precisely, darling,’ he drawled. ‘How well you’re getting to know me.’

‘Then think about this instead,’ Cally pressed on, with a touch of desperation. ‘There’s no certainty about these things. Pregnancy and the rest of it. For all we know I might not—one of us might not—be able to have children.’

Nick shrugged. ‘That’s a risk I’m prepared to take.’ His eyes met hers. ‘Are you on the Pill?’

Mutely, she shook her head. A celibate life, she thought, didn’t need that kind of protection.

‘Then I’d need you to guarantee to stay off it,’ he said curtly. ‘But the final decision, as I’ve made clear, rests entirely with you. You either co-operate—come back to me as my wife—or you don’t. A simple choice.’

Simple? Cally thought, a bubble of hysteria forming in her chest. Simple? Was that what he really believed?

‘It’s revenge—isn’t it?’ Her voice was torn—ragged. ‘You want to punish me—humiliate me. It’s payback time.’

‘If so, you’re heavily in arrears, sweetheart,’ he told her unsmilingly. ‘Tell me something, Cally, why accept my marriage proposal in the first place—if it was so degrading to you?’

She hesitated warily. ‘I—I suppose I was grateful. It was all a hell of a mess and you rescued us. Although you had no reason to do so. And if I never said it before, I’ll say it now. Thank you for that—for everything you did for my grandfather—and for me.’

His glance was cynical. ‘I want more than words, Cally.’

Her voice trembled. ‘But I have nothing else to give. I could try and repay you in other ways eventually, but I won’t—do what you want. You must see that. I—I can’t…’

He studied her for a moment, brows raised, then reached into his jacket for a mobile phone.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Calling Matt at the hotel, to tell him tomorrow’s site visit is cancelled.’ His voice was clipped. ‘You can tell the residents why any deal’s off. You have the rest of the night to plan your explanation. I suggest you make it a good one, because according to your boyfriend a lot of lives are going to be devastated. I’d hate for them to blame you, but I suspect they might.’

‘No.’ It hurt to breathe suddenly. ‘Wait.’

‘Well?’ The response was uncompromising, the phone still in his hand.

She looked down at her fingers, laced tightly together in her lap.

‘Gunners Terrace is precious to me,’ she said tautly. ‘Perhaps more than I’d even realised. And so is my eventual freedom.’ She paused. ‘I presume you’re also prepared to guarantee that—in writing?’

‘If that’s what it takes.’ Nick put the phone back in his pocket.

She lifted her head. Met his gaze directly. Unflinchingly. ‘Then I’ll—do what you want. But you have to give me some time—some space—to adjust.’

‘And why should I do that?’ He sounded almost casually interested.

She said, quietly and clearly, ‘Because I don’t want my only child to be—made in hatred. And I don’t believe you’d want that either.’

‘You really think you hate me?’ Faint, galling amusement in his voice.

She nodded. ‘I know it.’

‘So what are you suggesting instead?’ he drawled. ‘Surely not—love?’

She winced. ‘I thought—some kind of compromise. After all, you were prepared once to make allowances—you said so earlier.’

‘How unwise of me.’ He was silent for a moment. ‘Very well. I’ve had a year to practise restraint, so I suppose I can go on being patient for a while.’

He signalled for the bill, then turned back to her, the grey eyes merciless. ‘But be warned, darling. Don’t push your luck. Because I have no intention of waiting for ever. Do I make myself clear?’

From somewhere a long way off she heard herself say, ‘As crystal.’

And somehow she found herself getting up from the table and going with him out into the night.

CHAPTER THREE

THE car he drove was new to her—low and sleek, with deep leather seats into which she sank almost helplessly. Music played softly, and she recognised that it was Bach—one of the Brandenburg concertos. It was all persuasively, beguilingly comfortable. And she was nearly, but not quite, lulled into acceptance…

She struggled to sit up straight. ‘Where are we going?’ she demanded huskily.

‘To the hotel,’ he said. ‘Where else?’

‘I’d prefer to go back to my own flat.’

‘Which I’m sure has only a single bed,’ Nick returned. ‘We’ll be marginally more comfortable at the Majestic, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate.’

Cally drew a quick, angry breath. ‘But you said—you promised… Oh, God, I should have known I couldn’t trust you.’

‘And I feel the same about you, darling. Did you really think I’d let you out of my sight?’ He shook his head. ‘No, Cally. You’re spending the night with me. And, it’s not lust, merely a safety precaution,’ he added drily.

‘But I have to go to the flat,’ she protested. ‘There are things I need—clothes and stuff.’

‘If the clothing bears any resemblance to what you’re wearing now, I suggest you leave it there,’ he told her coolly. ‘Besides, I’ve brought you everything you need. You once had a trousseau—remember?’

Cally smoothed the cheap material of her skirt over her knees in a defensive gesture. ‘Yes—I remember.’

‘You also had a wedding ring,’ he went on. ‘Is it still around?’

She stared through the windscreen into the night. ‘I—threw it away.’

‘How dramatic,’ he said mockingly. ‘Wiser to have sold it, perhaps. You must have needed the cash.’

But I wasn’t feeling very wise. Just betrayed, confused and angry. The words trembled in her mind, but she did not utter them.

He said, ‘I shall have to buy you another.’

She lifted her chin. ‘Is that strictly necessary—for such a short time?’

‘It’s considered usual.’

‘But I thought you weren’t interested in conventions,’ she said. ‘Besides, I shall only throw it away again, when my duty’s done and I claim my freedom.’

‘However, while you’re living as my wife you’ll wear my ring.’ His voice was soft, but there was a note in it that spelled danger. ‘Just as you’ll get used to sleeping in my bed. Who knows? You might even come to enjoy both of them.’

‘Do not,’ Cally said through gritted teeth, ‘count on it.’ She hesitated. ‘How do you intend to explain my sudden return?’

‘I don’t,’ Nick responded coolly. ‘It concerns no one but ourselves.’

That, she thought, her nails curling into the palms of her hands, was not strictly true on a number of counts—not all of which she could bring herself to deal with. However, there was one she needed to mention.

She said tautly, ‘I presume you’ve informed Adele—if she’s still living at the Hall?’

‘She isn’t,’ he said curtly. ‘I arranged for her move to the Dower House months ago, when I still thought you might return of your own accord.’

She raised her brows. ‘That can’t have pleased her.’

‘Nor did the prospect of finding herself replaced as the mistress of the house. Once I married, her departure became inevitable. She knew that.’ He slanted a glance at her. ‘Or did you wish to go on sharing a roof with her indefinitely?’

Her mouth tightened. ‘No.’

‘That’s what I thought.’ He sounded faintly amused. He turned the car under an archway and slotted it expertly into a cramped space in the small hotel car park. As they walked to the rear entrance Cally was conscious of his hand under her elbow.

When they reached the desk, she saw the blonde receptionist’s eager smile take a disappointed downturn when she realised their most important guest was not alone.

Sorry, darling, but you never had a chance, Cally was tempted to tell her. He’s already spoken for—and not by me.

Along with the key, she saw Nick accept a sheaf of messages, and then they were walking together to the lift.

As they rode up to the first floor she tried to think of something she could do or say that would let her off the hook for tonight at least. She wasn’t ready, she thought desperately, for such a drastic change in her circumstances. She stole a look at her husband, but his dark face was expressionless.

The bridal suite consisted of a small, nondescript sitting room, with a writing desk and a television set, and a much larger bedroom containing a king-size bed with a white quilted satin coverlet sporting an enormous pink heart in its centre.

In spite of the nightmare scenario ahead of her, Cally knew an almost overwhelming desire to shriek with laughter. At the same time she found herself thinking that it was a far cry from the Virgin Islands, where their original honeymoon had been due to be spent. She tensed inwardly. She couldn’t let herself think like that. Allow herself to remember a time when she’d been a naïve girl, wrapped up in her own fledgling dreams and hopes. Oblivious to the harsh truths of the world around her—even her small part of it…

‘Your overnight case is there.’ Nick’s voice shocked her back to the present, and its realities, as he nodded towards the luggage stand. ‘And the bathroom’s through that door. I’ll be in the sitting room, having a nightcap and dealing with my messages. It should take about twenty minutes.’ He gave her a brief, formal smile. ‘Can I get you anything?’

‘No.’ Her mouth was dry. Twenty minutes. ‘Thank you.’

The door closed behind him, and Cally was alone. Temporarily at least.

She walked over to the bed and sank down on to the appalling cover, looking around her.

A resourceful person, she thought, should be able to escape from this situation—maybe by knotting sheets together and climbing out of a window. Except that a loud humming noise and frequent arctic blasts suggested that air-conditioning was in use and that the windows were hermetically sealed.

So it seemed she was committed beyond recall to this madness.

Her heart was fluttering against her ribs like a wounded bird, and her legs were shaking, but there was no point in staying where she was, with the minutes passing.

And there seemed little chance that Nick would agree to spend the night on the sofa in the sitting room, or allow her to do so. No matter how reluctant she might be, she would have to share this bed with him.

As for the future—her mind cringed away from its contemplation.

At least she knew now, with total certainty, why he’d asked her to marry him in the first place. Not because he’d ever wanted her in any real way, but because she was young, and probably fertile, and he needed her to give him a child. Something the woman he really loved could not provide, she thought, wincing as all the old pain and anger slashed at her again.

A year ago she’d been a naïve, trusting fool, but she would not fall into the same trap again. She’d accepted his terms now and she would adhere to them. There would be no more nonsense about imagining herself in love, or using Nick Tempest as the focus for her pathetic romantic fantasies. He was a businessman and he was offering her a business deal. Nothing more, nothing less.

She owed him, and he expected to be repaid. It was as simple as that.

And while she was with him she would learn to turn a blind eye to his extra-marital indiscretions. Steel herself never to ask where he was going, or where he had been. And, above all, never—ever—again follow him anywhere…

Those were matters of priority, and certainly she would be under no ludicrous illusions about love, marriage and ‘happy ever after’ this time around.

She got up and went across to the luggage stand, unzipping the overnight bag. The exquisite nightgown she’d bought with such shy hopes a year ago and never worn lay neatly folded on top of the other contents. She picked it up and shook it out, feeling the soft folds of white chiffon and lace drifting through her trembling fingers.