Was he dieting? Or was it some other appetite he was alluding to? Bemused, she poured his coffee in a daze, and watched him drink it and leave. Long after he had gone her lips still tingled from his brief parting kiss...
Jeffrey’s arrival broke through her daydreaming, and together they began preparing for the evening’s dinner party. Between them they had decided on a menu of fresh vegetable soup, followed by beef Wellington with all the trimmings and a Grand Marnier soufflé for dessert. Suddenly Josie was really looking forward to meeting some of Conan’s friends and she wanted everything to be perfect.
By midday everything was prepared that could be prepared in advance. Satisfied with her morning’s work, Josie ran lightly upstairs to the master bedroom, sighing contentedly. She loved the room; an imp of mischief had her adding to herself that all it needed was for Conan to share the huge bed with her instead of sleeping in the dressing room. Blushing at her wayward thoughts, she bent down to pick up the sandals she had dropped on the floor last night.
Then disaster struck. One of the straps was broken. ‘Damn’, she muttered, turning the offending sandal over in her hand. They were the only shoes she possessed that were suitable to wear with an evening gown. Glancing at the bedside clock, she groaned out loud. If she hurried perhaps she would have time to go and buy a new pair.
Quickly slipping into the blue suit she had worn for her wedding, she ran downstairs. Jeffrey was standing in the hall replacing the telephone receiver, but before she could speak he solved the problem for her.
‘That was Mr Zarcourt. He left some papers he needs today in the study so I’m going to drop them off at his office.’
‘Oh, good, I’ll go with you, and we can make a detour, because I need some new shoes.’ She grinned. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Jeffrey?’
‘Well, no—as long as you’re quick,’ h
e responded gruffly but Josie knew he didn’t mind.
The taxi drew to a halt outside an impressive-looking building in the heart of the city on Moorgate. Josie looked around with interest; she had never been to Conan’s bank before. Clutching her purse, she was about to follow Jeffrey out of the taxi, when a man on the opposite side of the road caught her eye. She sank back into the seat.
It was Conan, not ten yards away. She saw his strong profile, his thick black hair gleaming in the December sunlight, and as she watched she saw the blonde run up to him and fling her arms around him. She saw them kiss. Josie even thought she heard the sound of his laughter as he stepped back and tucked the woman’s hand through his arm. And walked away.
‘I won’t be long,’ Jeffrey told her.
‘Okay.’ Josie’s gaze was fixed on the couple strolling down the street. Conan was tall, but his companion was almost as big. A very beautiful blonde, she was all long legs, mini-skirt, and lush curves. Was that the kind of woman Conan liked?
Josie watched until they disappeared from sight, her whole body clenched in pain. She laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, but nothing could shut out the image of Conan and the woman She felt as though her heart had been split in two, her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, fighting down the tears she ached to cry.
‘Are you all right, miss?’
The cab driver’s voice broke into her anguished thoughts. ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ she said, slowly opening her eyes. She was aware of the worried look on the driver’s face. ‘A touch of indigestion,’ she murmured. The lie worked; with a nod, the man turned back to the front.
How stupid she had been, how blind. Of course a handsome, successful man like Conan would have a woman; he was not the type to be celibate. She had realised as much the day he had proposed marriage and she’d asked him about his women. So, now that she knew he had a lady friend, why was it causing her so much pain?
She had always known the reason Conan had married her. He had been perfectly honest about it. He wanted Beeches Manor back from his father, and marrying Josie had been his way of getting it True, they had managed to live together civilly over the past weeks, but surely she had not been imagining there could ever be anything more between them? She groaned in self-disgust, forced to admit to herself that maybe she had...
But now the blinkers had been torn from her eyes, and Josie wanted to scream at fate for doing this to her. It was jealousy, pure unadulterated jealousy, vicious in its pain, that was causing her such anguish. She was in love with Conan.
It was no good blaming fate; it was entirely her own stupid fault. Theirs was a marriage of convenience. What had Conan said when she had asked him about fidelity? ‘You can count on my fidelity as much as I can count on yours.’ Given that she was carrying another man’s child, that gave Conan plenty of leeway...
‘Where to now, Mrs Zarcourt?’ Jeffrey demanded, sliding into the car beside her.
Mrs Zarcourt! But for how long? Until the child was born, or Major Zarcourt died? Josie did not know... She named a well-known shoe store, forcing her mind back to the present.
Later Josie lay across the bed, tears slowly drying on her cheeks. This was no good, she admonished herself sternly; the last thing she needed was to meet their dinner guests with red-rimmed eyes. She had told Jeffrey she needed a rest on their return from the city, and had come straight upstairs. It had been an excuse... She was hiding. It was that simple.
But not any more. She had made a bargain and would stick to it. She slid her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She would have to face Conan some time, and she might look marginally better if she slapped on some make-up. She took a quick shower and washed her hair. Then, seated at the dressing table wearing only her briefs, she eyed the tangled mass of wet black ringlets falling around her shoulders with disgust. Picking up the hairdryer she plugged it in and made an attempt to bring her hair into some kind of order.
But her concentration was shot... She had fallen in love with her husband, and he must never know... A hollow laugh escaped her at the irony of the situation. Heaven help her! She had to be the one girl in the world Conan could never love. Hadn’t he seen her the night of the party, naked in the bed she had shared with his half-brother? Even now the shame of it made her burn with embarrassment.
Putting the hairdryer down, she studied her flushed reflection in the mirror—the small scrubbed face surrounded by a wild mass of curls, the small straight nose and full mouth all added up to a child, she thought bitterly. Worse! She had been behaving like the child Conan had called her.
This morning his parting kiss had compounded the illusion in her mind from the previous night that their relationship was shifting to that of lovers. She had not examined her feelings at the time but now she was forced to recognise her own wholehearted response to Conan’s kisses and the mood of euphoria she had felt at the prospect of a deepening relationship between them.
Josie sighed, her violet eyes shadowed in pain. How wrong she had been, she thought bitterly. Yet she could not blame Conan; it was not his fault. He had given her time and space to help her get over the grief he imagined she must feel at the death of Charles. Guilt swamped her as she finally admitted the truth to herself. The death of Charles had not worried her half as much as finding out she was pregnant.
Straightening her shoulders, she picked up a brush, and dragged it through her tangled hair. It was time she got dressed. Sitting thinking what a complete and utter mess she had made of her life was not going to help her or her child. As for tonight, it was up to her to play the part of the perfect wife for Conan in front of his friends, without him ever finding out she had been foolish enough to fall in love with him.
‘Not ready yet, Josie? You’d better hurry up; our guests will be arriving shortly.’ Conan’s deep-voiced command echoed in the silence of the room.