His mouth was a tight line of anger, the bitter words hitting her like bullets, making pain explode inside her. She had no defence against what he was saying. She wanted to cry out that it was not her fault she had not been the wife Ricky wanted, that it was not her fault that…
Instead she gathered all her self-control round her and speaking slowly and carefully, spacing out the words so that her voice wouldn’t tremble, she said quietly, ‘My friends don’t require explanations, Mr Harland, and others don’t warrant them.’ Then she dropped her eyes to her plate and made a pretence of being totally involved in eating what was left of the chocolate mousse Sue had served.
She was also too aware of the atmosphere around her. Vera Benson was chatting animatedly to John, trying to pretend that nothing untoward had happened. Sue got up to remove their plates, and sensing a reprieve, Kate got up to help her.
Only when they were safely inside the kitchen did Sue speak, her fair skin flushing, anger darkening her soft blue eyes as she burst out, ‘What an absolute rat! I swear, Kate, if I’d known, I’d never have agreed to have him here. The Bensons just asked if they could bring a friend.’
‘Please, Sue, honestly it doesn’t matter. You couldn’t have known.’
‘But he was so rude to you! What on earth was he trying to imply when he made that crack about your lifestyle?’
‘I… I don’t really know,’ Kate lied. ‘I only met him once when Ricky brought him home for a weekend. I’ve no idea what Ricky told him about the way we lived.’
‘Not the truth, that’s for sure,’ Sue commented bluntly, ‘otherwise he’d be singing a very different song. How on earth did Ricky come to be involved with him in the first place? Vera was telling me he’s virtually a millionaire, very strait-laced and honourable in all his business dealings too, apparently—hardly Ricky’s cup of tea, I would have thought.’
‘No. He and Ricky were at school together, and Ricky’s grandfather invited him to spend the holidays at the house a couple of times. His mother was South American, and his parents spent a lot of time over there. Ricky said something about his mother’s family being extremely wealthy.’
‘South American. Mmm… well, that would explain that fantastic tan…and those looks… Still, I think I’d rather have my John,’ Sue commented. ‘He might be a good-looker, but he’s far too hard and judgmental for my taste. Of all the things to happen,’ she wailed miserably, ‘just when I’d persuaded you to come out of your shell a little!’ She saw her friend’s white face, and flung down the cloth she had picked up, grabbing Kate’s arm instead. ‘Oh, Kate, don’t let him get to you,’ she pleaded. ‘It’s obvious he doesn’t know the first thing about you…the sort of person you are. He’s obviously making his judgment of you on something Ricky must have told him, and we all know what Ricky was. Please don’t let it upset you. If you like I’ll get John to have a word with him and put him right.’
‘No!’ The sharp panicky denial sounded over-loud in the comfortable kitchen and Kate blenched again, saying more gently, ‘No, honestly, Sue, it’s okay. After all, I’m hardly likely to see him again, am I? It really doesn’t matter what he thinks.’ She forced a tight smile. ‘Please…let’s just forget about the whole thing.’
‘Okay, if that’s what you want,’ Sue agreed reluctantly. She had been looking forward to seeing Dominic Harland’s arrogant face change when John told him the truth about poor Kate and about what Ricky had done to her.
‘Come on, everyone will be waiting for their coffee,’ Kate reminded her strategically.
Vera Benson came over to sit with Kate when Sue had served them their coffee in the drawing-room.
‘I feel I must apologise for Dominic’s behaviour,’ she said hesitantly to Kate. ‘I honestly don’t know what came over him. He’s normally most charming. I hadn’t even realised he knew you.’
There was a trace of speculation in her voice, and Kate said evenly, ‘Well, we only met once when my husband brought him home for the weekend. Tell me, what exactly did you have in mind for this glass panel?’ she asked, quickly changing the subject, but only listening with half her attention as her companion started to talk about her plans for the conservatory.
Kate wasn’t the first to leave. The two couples who had travelled together went first, but once their car had disappeared, Kate, who had followed Sue and John into the hall, announced that she too must go. This way she could avoid having to say goodbye to Dominic Harland, and although Sue frowned a little, she let her go without too much protest.
For once her car started first time, but she was shaking so much that she crashed the gears badly as she took off down the drive. Not until she was home would she feel safe, if then. How could it have happened? How could fate have been unkind enough to thrust Dominic Harland back into the arena of her life, now, when she was finally making an attempt to get over the past?
CHAPTER THREE
ONLY when she was safely back in her own home could she let the memories sweep over her, devastating her with their intensity, overwhelming her so much that she only had to close her eyes to be transported back to the past… To the morning after Dominic’s arrival with Ricky.
She had been downstairs in the kitchen when Dominic walked into it, ducking to avoid the low beam close to the door.
As she turned to greet him that same flicker of sensation she had felt last night licked through her body, making her tense and stare up at him. He was taller than Ricky, and broader—much broader, she realised, the breath trapping in a spasm in her throat as she absorbed the masculinity of his torso beneath the thin material of his shirt. She wanted to look at him and go on looking at him, she realised feverishly, and more—she wanted to reach out and touch him, to…
‘Ricky mentioned last night that you might be able to locate a spare razor for me… I forgot to bring mine.’
The cool censure in his voice snapped her back to reality, her nerve endings so raw that she practically flinched as he ran his hand r
aspingly against the stubble of his unshaven jaw.
It was an effort to drag her concentration away from him, and force herself to remember where she had put Ricky’s spare razor after she had had it mended.
By the time she had found it, she was trembling agitatedly, her confusion in no way leavened by his presence in the kitchen with her. It was a large enough room to hold a family, never mind two adults, and ordinarily it felt very spacious, but today for some reason the walls seemed to close claustrophobically around her, pressing in on her so that every time she moved she was intensely conscious of Dominic’s presence.
He wasn’t the first friend Ricky had brought home by any means, although lately Kate had grown used to not seeing her husband over the weekend—he normally stayed in London, where or who with she had no idea, nor any real wish to find out. Her marriage was a mockery of everything that marriage could be, but there was no way out of it for her. Ricky refused point-blank to even consider a divorce. Her mother, it seemed, was still giving him an annual allowance, which would naturally cease if they were divorced. ‘And don’t think she’ll give you a home,’ he had warned Kate the last time she had raised the subject of divorce, ‘because she won’t. She wants you even less than I do. God, when I think about it, what she’s paying me to keep you out of her hair is peanuts!’ His voice had turned ugly with malice and spite. ‘And don’t think anyone else would want you…what man in his right senses would want a cold bitch like you? Face it, Kate, it’s either marriage to me or destitution, and since I’m not prepared to let you go, you don’t really have a choice in any case.’
‘Thanks.’ The dry cool voice pierced through her thoughts, his fingertips cool and firm as they touched her hand briefly as he took the razor.
‘I…’