Bittersweet Deception Read online

She stared at him. Could she admit to an overwhelming desire that she had felt quite unable to hold in check? She was sure that was what he expected to hear. That would be easy compared with the reality that now stared her full in the face.

  It couldn’t be true. She didn’t like him. She loathed his horrible cynical attitude to women… She began to shake and then, the final humiliation, she burst into tears and somehow she was in his lap with his arms around her and she was sobbing on to his shoulder.

  ‘She could have drowned and it would all have been my fault. If I hadn’t started this stupid deception…’ She sniffed. Jay produced a handkerchief and she blew her nose. She looked up. ‘I never meant it to go so far, please believe me…’ She stopped as he began to pull the pins from her hair and it tumbled down around her shoulders. ‘What are you doing?’ she demanded.

  ‘What I should have done weeks ago. Make love to you.’

  ‘No! You can’t…’

  ‘No? How are you going to stop me? There’s no fictitious lover to hide behind now, Kate. You’re going to have to accept the truth.’ He laced his fingers through her hair, holding her face in his strong hands and looked at her for a long time. No one had ever looked at her with that fierce intensity, that determination. It was glorious and terrifying all at once.

  ‘Don’t,’ she begged. ‘Don’t look at me like that.’

  He smiled slowly. ‘I’ll stop if you ask me to kiss you,’ he promised.

  ‘I… I can’t!’ she said, on a little gasp.

  His eyes darkened and became fierce. ‘You’re going to have to, my darling. I gave you my word that I wouldn’t kiss you again until you asked me. I’d really hate to break it.’

  Her heart was pounding crazily. She felt like a wanton lying in his arms and she was loving it. A slow smile deepened the corners of her mouth. ‘But you would,’ she murmured. He was gently massaging the back of her neck and she was finding it very difficult to concentrate on anything but the intoxicating pleasure emanating from his fingers. He was so close that she could see tiny gold flecks in his eyes.

  ‘Ask me,’ he insisted. His voice was compelling and she was beyond help. She lifted her hand and tentatively drew the outline of his mouth with the tip of her finger.

  ‘Kiss me, Jay,’ she murmured, and sighed as his lips touched the delicate lilac-veined lids of her eyes.

  ‘Like that?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes,’ she urged throatily. Gentle butterfly kisses trailed across the finely modelled bones of her cheeks, her nose, her chin. Then he raised his head and looked at her once more.

  ‘Ask me, Kate, I want to hear you say it again.’

  ‘Kiss me, Jay,’ she repeated, her voice hoarse with something she hardly understood, but recognised as a need as old as man. ‘Please.’

  He groaned softly and laid siege to her mouth in a manner so determined that every other thought was driven from her mind. He had kissed her before and she had thought herself lucky to escape with her senses intact. But not like this. It had never been like this. She had stopped fighting him, stopped fighting herself and he took his time, teasing her mouth with light caressing touches that set a slow fire burning deep within her. As her lips parted under his expert probing, a long, shuddering sigh escaped her; she was incapable of more and she was lost as his tongue stroked along hers and his mouth moved more urgently against her own.

  She was dimly aware of his hand releasing the buttons of her blouse, but the urgent stab of a far deeper longing as he cupped her breast in his hand and began to tease an erect and sensitive nipple between his finger and thumb sent almost unbearable sensations of pleasure rippling through her body and she cried out, arching against him in an explosion of longing. He lifted his head, his eyes dark with arousal, and he drew in a sharp breath, gathering her up into his arms and rising swiftly to his feet.

  ‘Not here,’ he grated. ‘There are too many people about for this…’ And as if to reinforce his words the door swung open and Sam stuck her head around it.

  ‘Kate?’ She saw her sister in Jay’s arms. ‘What’s the matter?’ she demanded. ‘Has she fainted? I do that when I get over-excited.’

  Kate, her cheeks aflame, fumbled, all thumbs, with her buttons as she struggled to her feet. ‘I’m all right now,’ she said a little raggedly. ‘But you gave me the fright of my life.’

  ‘You shouldn’t worry so much.’ She grinned at Jay, obviously recovered from her soaking. ‘I don’t believe I thanked you properly for rescuing me.’

  ‘Quite adequately,’ he assured her, his voice lacking its usual urbanity. ‘Where are you going, Kate?’

  ‘I have to see about dinner. Nancy has the evening off.’ Her eyes begged him to let her go.

  ‘Don’t bother tonight. We’ll all go out.’

  * * *

  Kate and Jay were both too deeply immersed in their own thoughts to be great company, but Sam kept Tisha Maynard amused telling her about her dancing, cruel in her mimicry of her teachers as only the young could be. Neither of them seemed to notice how quiet the other two were.

  ‘I hate to break up the party,’ Jay said, after a while. ‘But I have a plane to catch.’

  On the way home Sam plagued him with questions about his visit to the States until Kate told her to be quiet.

  ‘I wish I could go to America,’ Sam said wistfully.

  Jay shook his head. ‘Believe me, Sam, if there was any way I could get out of going I would.’

  Later, they stood in the shadows of the courtyard and Jay held Kate, lightly, barely touching her as if to touch her would make it too unbearable to go. ‘I’ll be back the minute I can get away.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere, Jay.’ He kissed her, tenderly, sweetly, and then left her there in the darkness. When she heard the car drive away, she turned towards the woods. There was no rush. She needed a little time. Time to become used to her acceptance that she wanted Jay Warwick as much as he wanted her. Perhaps more, but he must never know that.

  ‘Enter these enchanted woods, you who dare.’

  She murmured the words softly to herself. She was ready for the enchanted woods. Ready to dare. The sort of love she felt for Jay only happened once in a lifetime and she had stopped trying to run away from it.

  And she was going into the relationship with her eyes wide open. Jay had never been serious about a woman in his life and she wasn’t fooled into believing that he loved her. She remembered the cynical manner of his first pass at her. Women usually fell into his lap like ripe plums. It was as predictable as rain at Ascot. He smiled and they came running. Only she hadn’t. She hadn’t been prepared to play and that had intrigued him. Brought her more sharply into focus.

  David had taught her one important lesson. No one was interested in taking on a woman who had the expensive responsibility of a younger sister. Expensive financially and emotionally. He had been cruel. But the point was well made. As long as she remembered that, she was safe from self-delusion. And if, in the end, Jay Warwick broke her heart, it could hardly be worse than the lump of ice she had carried inside her for the past three years.

  * * *

  Sam had been lodged in the old nursery suite on the top floor. Kate had never been up there before and, thrilled with the collection of old toys she had found, ideas bubbling for extending the open area of the house, she went in search of Tisha Maynard.

  ‘You see!’ She wound up an automaton, a monkey playing cymbals.

  ‘Good lord! I’d forgotten all about this stuff. I think we’d better have someone down to look at it. Jay might want to sell it.’

  ‘Sell it!’ Kate was horrified. ‘But we can put this back together like an old Victorian nursery. People will pay to come and see it!’

  Lady Maynard looked doubtful. ‘I don’t know. The formal rooms are hardly ever used by the family but this is very personal.’ She looked around and sighed. ‘Jay was the last baby to use this nursery.’

  ‘Jay?’ Kate asked.

  She laughed. ‘It is
rather difficult to think of him as a baby, isn’t it? And perhaps he did grow up too fast, with too many responsibilities. His mother ran off with a wealthy South African, you know. My brother was killed in a plane crash out in the bush, chasing after her.’

  ‘Oh, but that’s terrible.’ And perhaps explained something of his attitude to women. His belief that they were incapable of love. For an abandoned child, it must have seemed like that, especially when he was old enough to understand.

  ‘Of course he’d led her to believe she would have a life of ease in a great house,’ Tisha Maynard went on. ‘The reality must have come as something of a shock. But it is not so very surprising that Jay is somewhat cynical about women.’ She tried a top and it whirled furiously. ‘He wasn’t quite so bad when he was young. He didn’t remember his mother, so I suppose her desertion hadn’t felt so very personal. But then, when he was just beginning to be successful, he met Sally Richmond. He gave her her first chance in television.’

  Kate frowned. ‘She went to America, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes. Once Jay had made her a star. But the Americans offered her the moon as well.’ She sighed. ‘He was away, negotiating a deal for his programmes in the Far East. The first he heard of it was in the newspapers. And he didn’t even have the satisfaction of suing her for breaking her contract.’ She looked at Kate. ‘They had been living together for over a year and you don’t have a contract with your lover, do you?’ She closed the toy cupboard.

  So there it was. Money, power and ambition. Sally Richmond had been offered it and hadn’t even waited to say goodbye. Her hands clenched into tight little fists as she dwelt on the pain and humiliation he must have felt.

  Tisha Maynard glanced around. ‘Perhaps you’re right about the nursery. It’s silly to be sentimental. I’ll mention it to Jay when he gets back.’

  That evening a restlessness seized Kate and in an effort to tire herself she wandered in the park until it was too dark to see. She tried to watch television but nothing seemed to get through to her. Even a soak in a hot bath had no effect. She was jittery, too jumpy to settle to anything, and even as she prepared for bed she knew she wouldn’t sleep.

  She regarded her pyjamas with despair. She thought of the glamorous Annabel Courtney and wondered what she would wear in bed. She pulled a face. Something slinky in satin, no doubt. Horribly expensive. Unlike her pyjamas, rejects, bought in a sale to keep her warm and save on the heating bills, and far too large. She kicked off the legs, cinched in the waist and posed in front of the mirror, pouting provocatively.

  ‘Hussy!’ she scolded her reflection and replaced the trousers and rolled up the legs. Then she sighed. Perhaps it was time to try some hot milk.

  The church clock struck one as she made her way along the galleried hall to the front stairs. There was something spooky about the back stairs after dark. At the creak of a floorboard under her foot she stiffened and then she laughed at her own foolishness. She was outside Jay’s room; she heard the same sound every night when he came to bed. Now she glanced curiously at the door.

  The lateness of the hour, the small sounds as the old house settled for the night, her own edginess, were all acting on her strangely and before she knew what she was doing her hand was on the gleaming brass doorknob and she was inside.

  She stood for a moment, leaning back against the door, her heart pounding violently at her own boldness. Then she reached for the light switch and in the soft illumination of a tall Chinese lamp she examined her surroundings. The walls were richly panelled in oak, and heavy velvet curtains were looped back, revealing the tall mullioned windows dark against a moonless sky. There was a stone fireplace with high-backed chairs either side, and a red and blue oriental rug lay before the hearth. She took in every detail, until finally there was nowhere left to look except at the bed.

  It was a huge four-poster, hung with embroidered drapes that might have been there for centuries.

  The matching embroidered cover had been turned down in seeming invitation and, her heart beating hectically, Kate moved towards it and her hands stroked the cool linen sheets. They were scented with the wind that blew from the sea and she sat on the edge of the bed and laid her head against the pillow. It was cool to her temple, balm to her sleepless, hectic thoughts. For a moment she didn’t know whether she would run or stay. Then her eyelids flickered heavily and she kicked off the overlong pyjama legs and slipped between the sheets.

  * * *

  He woke her with a kiss. For a moment confusion and strangeness caused her heart to hammer fearfully. She tried to sit up, but the heavy cover hampered her. Then he whispered her name and it was all right. Everything was just as it was meant to be.

  ‘Hello, Kate.’

  He was leaning over her in the lamplight, sitting on the edge of the bed, and she smiled up at him sleepily.

  ‘Hello, Jay. Did I fall asleep?’

  ‘Yes, darling, you were asleep. I came back a day early to surprise you.’ His face was grave. ‘It seems you were one jump ahead of me. Thank you for warming my bed.’ A smile twitched at the corners of his mouth and she sat up then, embarrassment at what she had done covering her with confusion.

  ‘Oh, grief…’ She pushed back the cover and swung her legs to the floor. There was a gratifyingly sharp intake of breath as his eyes took in her tousled hair, the pyjama jacket twisted provocatively about her, before travelling the length of her long bare legs. ‘I didn’t think—’

  ‘Didn’t you, Kate?’ he asked softly. ‘Try not to think some more.’ His lips were warm and sweet, blotting out the danger she had walked into without a thought. His hands slid upwards beneath the schoolboy stripes of her pyjama jacket, fingers spread to encompass her back, thumbs brushing against the soft mounds of her breasts and rousing an instant response that left her gasping.

  Her name caught on his breath and he bore her urgently down on to the bed. For a moment they were locked together in a world where only his lips curving a trail of fire across her throat, the weight of his body pinning her to the sheets, had any meaning.

  He lifted his head and stared at her a little fiercely. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he said almost, she thought, with surprise.

  She didn’t answer, but began to undo the buttons of his shirt, concentrating hard on each one, conscious that he was watching her through eyes eclipsed by half-lowered lids. When it was done, she laid her hands against the hard plane of his chest, against the dark sprinkling of hair and then, a little shyly, she slid her arms up and wrapped them around his neck, leaving herself open to him, offering herself with complete trust. ‘Love me, Jay,’ she murmured.

  For a moment she waited, hardly sure what to expect, only aware of the tremor of anticipation centred somewhere about her abdomen, a touch of fear, a touch of excitement, above all, the knowledge that he would make her a total woman.

  He reached up and caught her hands, bringing them to the front, holding them fast together. Then he sat up abruptly. ‘You’d better go, Kate,’ he said, a sudden intensity lighting the depths of his eyes.

  A kind of madness had carried her across the threshold of his room, that same madness kept her pinned now to the bed. ‘And if I don’t want to?’ She lay completely motionless as he stared at her, his eyes slowly travelling the length of her body. Then he closed his eyes.

  ‘Please go, Kate,’ he grated. ‘Now.’

  Ashen-faced, Kate rolled from the bed and ran for the door. Rejection was the last thing she had expected, but she should have known. This bed was sacrosanct. It would one day be for his wife. Not the place for casual affairs. ‘Kate!’ His voice stopped her in her tracks and expecting him to come after her, suggest an adjournment to her room, she grabbed at the door-handle, determined to get away before the insult left his lips. ‘You’ve forgotten something.’

  ‘What?’ Bemused, she half turned.

  He walked slowly across the room to her and placed the pyjama trousers in her hand. ‘Goodnight, Kate. Sleep well.’ He opened the door
for her and stood back to let her through. With a groan of anguish she ran to her own room to throw herself on the bed and cry hot tears of shame.

  * * *

  Jay slept most of Friday. Nancy reported that he seemed to be more than usually jet-lagged when she took up a tray late in the afternoon. Kate raised a bleak smile and slammed down the dough she was kneading with unnecessary force.

  He finally appeared just before dinner and found her alone in the kitchen. He came up behind her and put his arms around her. ‘Hello, Kate,’ he murmured softly in her ear.

  ‘Hello, Jay,’ she said briskly, and tried to push past him.

  He held her, preventing her escape. ‘That’s not the standard of welcome I expected after last night.’

  ‘I would rather forget last night.’

  ‘Am I to read from this sudden frostiness that you regret your somewhat reckless application for the position as my bedwarmer?’

  ‘It’s not much of a job, is it?’ she said icily. ‘You warm a man’s bed and then he throws you out of it.’

  ‘There are a few formalities to be got through first, Kate,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t put yourself to any trouble, Jay.’ She stared pointedly at his hands clasped around her waist.

  ‘The greater the trouble, the sweeter the reward. Remember?’ He released her, lightly touching her cheek with his fingers. ‘I’ll go and see Tisha. Maybe she’ll be pleased to see me.’

  * * *

  ‘Did you phone your office, Jay?’ his aunt asked, as she shook out her napkin. ‘They’ve been ringing you all day.’

  ‘Monday will do.’ He glanced at Kate. ‘I’ve other things on my mind.’ And the conversation was monopolised by Sam, who wanted to hear all about America.

  In the middle of dinner there was an urgent peal at the front door and Sam went to answer it. She came back a few moments later.

  ‘It’s a courier with a package for you, Jay. The man says you must sign for it personally.’

  Jay frowned and threw down his napkin. ‘Can’t they manage without me for a few days?’ He returned a few moments later and threw the padded envelope on the sideboard.