Кэрол Мортимер

Trust In Summer Madness


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tongue, looking down at her clasped hands. ‘Yes. He went to America, I decided not to go with him.’

      ‘Tell me about it.’

      ‘Chris—’

      ‘Just tell me, Sian,’ he sighed his impatience. ‘Don’t I have a right to know about you and him?’

      ‘I—I suppose so.’ She swallowed hard, sitting down, knowing it wouldn’t be easy to relive the memories. ‘I was nineteen when I met Jarrett. Oh, I’d seen him about town, but he was a little too old for me, a little out of my league, so we’d never actually spoken. He ran a branch of his uncle’s business here, had a steady girl-friend called—called Nina,’ she revealed painfully. ‘He and I met one day, quite by accident, at Mrs Day’s.’ Her expression was far away, vividly remembering that first meeting with Jarrett, the jolt of awareness that had seemed to shoot through both of them the moment their eyes met. ‘He—he had some men doing some work at her house, an extension, I think. And I—I’d taken some apples round from the orchard here. He was there talking to his men, we began to talk, and—’

      ‘And so he dropped his girl-friend and started going out with you,’ Chris derided.

      Sian flushed. ‘Not exactly. He told me things had been cooling between him and Nina for some time, meeting me just ended it sooner than it would have done. That’s what he said,’ she insisted at Chris’s contemptuous expression.

      ‘The man would have said anything to get you!’

      ‘Perhaps,’ she avoided his glance. ‘But at the time I believed him. We spent an idyllic summer together, and after two months he asked me to marry him. I accepted,’ she continued softly. ‘We’d already started planning the wedding when his uncle invited him out to run the American business.’

      ‘You didn’t want to go?’

      She gave him a sharp look. ‘He was going to be my husband, of course I would have gone.’

      ‘But he went to America without you.’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Why?’

      ‘Because by that time he was back with Nina,’ she said shrilly.

      ‘What happened to her?’ Chris frowned. ‘He seems to be very much on his own now.’

      He seemed to be, but the magazine article implied differently; Arlette was now the woman in his life. ‘Nina Marshall lives in London now, with her husband,’ she told Chris dully.

      ‘So she wasn’t stupid enough to marry him either.’

      Sian stiffened. ‘I believe it was Jarrett’s decision not to marry.’

      ‘He seems to make a habit of it!’

      ‘Yes.’ She didn’t dispute what was fact, she knew just how selfish Jarrett could be.

      ‘Do you still love him?’ Chris had calmed down a little now and was more his gentle self.

      ‘No,’ she answered with certainty. ‘My love for him died a long time ago.’

      Chris came over to put his arms about her, drawing her into the comfort of his arms. ‘Do you still love me?’ he asked teasingly.

      She gave him a warm smile. ‘You know I do.’

      He rested his forehead against hers; he was only a couple of inches taller than her. ‘I love you too. I just found it strange being confronted with your last fiancé.’

      ‘You make it sound as if I’ve had hundreds!’ she derided. ‘And as Jarrett said, we were never officially engaged. I doubt he ever meant to go through with marrying me, even if he and Nina hadn’t—well, if they hadn’t got back together.’ She rested against Chris’s shoulder. ‘I was young, and naïve, and easily impressed by his maturity and experience. A bit like hundreds of other girls of that age. You don’t realise until it’s too late that you were just another conquest, a conquest to be made in any way possible, even with an offer of marriage.’

      She spoke quietly, bitterly, aware that she wasn’t telling the whole truth, not to Chris or herself. Jarrett’s offer of marriage had been genuine, as had been his love for her; he couldn’t possibly have pretended the way he trembled with the emotion, he was usually a man of strength and determination. But she hadn’t been enough for him, and he had ultimately returned to the more sophisticated Nina. Finding out that the other woman still featured very much in his life had been a humiliating and painful experience, one she had never forgotten.

      ‘I’m sorry I put you through all that, darling,’ Chris smoothed her hair. ‘I was mad to think you could still think anything of him after the way he treated you.’

      Sian didn’t answer, aware that she would be telling a lie if she did. She wasn’t indifferent to Jarrett. She didn’t love him, but she wasn’t indifferent to him either. When he had touched her at the restaurant she had felt that familiar quicksilver excitement that had been a fundamental part of their relationship; she could feel it now if she closed her eyes and thought about him.

      But that was something she was trying not to do, and she returned Chris’s kiss with more than their usually restrained passion, seeking oblivion from the burning ache in her body, and knowing it wasn’t going to happen. She had no doubt of Chris’s desire for her, could feel that desire for her now, but they had agreed to wait until they were married before making love. She knew that no matter what the provocation Chris would never break that agreement.

      Although tonight he came very close to it! ‘Sian darling …!’ he groaned against her bared breasts, shuddering against her before refastening her clothes without haste or embarrassment. ‘I wish it were our wedding night,’ he said huskily, his dark curls ruffled from her caressing hands, his face still taut with desire. ‘Then I wouldn’t have to leave you like this—or myself either,’ he added ruefully.

      In a way Sian was glad he did have to leave, knowing that tonight his lovemaking, which she had always enjoyed, had been a substitute for more heated caresses, more experienced hands, hands that knew all the pleasure spots of her body as if by instinct.

      God, she wished Jarrett had never come back, wished she never had to see him again. But there was no reason why she should; she couldn’t be forced into meeting him. Although the determination in Jarrett’s eyes when he told her he wanted to talk to her seemed to deny that. Jarrett King had always been very adept at getting what he wanted from life. And for some reason he wanted to talk to her.

      Chris stood up, tucking his loosened shirt into his trousers before pulling on his jacket. ‘Try and talk some sense into Bethany, hmm?’ he said grimly. ‘She really shouldn’t get involved with a man like King.’

      ‘No.’ Sian stood up too, walking with him to the door.

      ‘I’m sorry, darling.’ Chris gently touched her cheek. ‘I’m sure that when you thought yourself in love with him that he wasn’t the hard bastard he seems now. But the way he was tonight he can only be bad for Bethany.’

      ‘I’ve already said I’ll talk to her,’ she said stiffly.

      ‘Sian—’

      ‘It’s very late, Chris,’ her voice softened, knowing he was only showing concern for her sister, ‘and I’m tired.’

      ‘Of course you are,’ he nodded, bending to kiss her lightly on the lips. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, darling.’

      She went back to the lounge after he had left and cleared away the coffee tray, washing the cups and saucers as a way of occupying herself while she waited for Bethany to come home. The talk with her sister would be better taking place tonight, even though she wasn’t looking forward to it. Bethany could be very determined when she set her mind on something, and her attraction to Jarrett seemed to be very strong.

      Chris had been wrong about one thing. Jarrett had been a hard bastard three years ago too, although at the