Carole Mortimer

Trust In Summer Madness


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      Sian had stiffened now, for some reason resenting the same criticism she herself had directed at him mentally. ‘Really?’

      ‘She’s too young to handle a piranha like him—’

      ‘I think that’s going a little too far, Chris,’ she protested heatedly.

      His eyes narrowed, his mouth tight. ‘Why are you defending the man?’

      She shook her head. ‘I’m not defending him—’

      ‘No?’ he bit out angrily. ‘It sounds very much that way to me.’ He eyed her moodily.

      She was very much aware of Bethany and Jarrett as they sat across the room from them, of Bethany’s sparkling charm and Jarrett’s lazy humour, almost as if Bethany’s efforts to charm him amused rather than attracted him.

      Her mouth was tight as she turned back to Chris. ‘I agree with you that he is totally unsuitable for Bethany,’ her tone was abrupt, ‘but I don’t agree that he’s a piranha.’

      His eyes flashed deeply. ‘Not even after the way he walked out on you?’ he rasped.

      All the colour drained from Sian’s face, leaving her eyes looking huge and haunted. ‘What do you know about that?’ she choked, crumbling the bread roll on her plate to destruction.

      Chris’s mouth twisted. ‘Only what the people in this town felt I should know when we became engaged.’

      She swallowed hard, having no idea he had been told the gossip about her. ‘Then perhaps they told you wrong!’

      ‘He left with another woman, didn’t he?’ Chris scorned.

      ‘Yes.’ Her voice was pained at the truth of that.

      ‘Let’s eat, Sian,’ he muttered as their main course arrived. ‘This is hardly the place for this discussion.’

      She didn’t think anywhere would be the right place for discussing what was basically a private matter between herself and Jarrett. He had left with Nina Marshall, yes, but only because he found more pleasure in being with her than with Sian.

      All enjoyment in the meal had gone for her. All she was aware of was Chris’s brooding anger, and Jarrett and Bethany’s obvious enjoyment in each other’s company, the sound of Jarrett’s husky laughter beginning to grate on her nerves by the time they got to the coffee stage of their meal, and she refused any of the strong brew, as did Chris.

      ‘Shall we go?’ he asked tersely.

      She had never seen Chris like this before; she was more used to his easy charm and gentleness. This side of him was completely new to her, and she wondered if jealousy of Jarrett could have prompted this reaction. She could have told him he had no reason to feel anything over Jarrett; any love she might have felt for him had died when Nina Marshall returned to Swannell, also dismissed from his life. In time she could have perhaps forgiven his loving the other woman more than her, but when Nina returned a couple of weeks later without him it became obvious that neither of them had meant that much to Jarrett.

      As they walked past Jarrett’s table his hand came out to grasp Sian’s wrist. She looked down with a gasp; Chris had gone on ahead to pay the bill and so not witnessed this intimacy. But Bethany had, and her embarrassment was all the more acute because of her sister’s wide-eyed stare.

      ‘Let go of me,’ she ordered between gritted teeth, very conscious of her hip pressed against his arm, could feel the warmth of his body through his shirt.

      He made no effort to release her, his thumb moving rhythmically against the delicate veins in her wrist. ‘I have to talk to you,’ he told her throatily, his eyes intent.

      ‘I’m sorry,’ she wrenched her arm out of his grasp. ‘If you’ll excuse me … ?’

      ‘No!’ He stood up, towering over her as he always had, as powerfully built as ever. ‘Sian, I need to talk to you.’ He clasped her forearms.

      ‘Why?’ she asked flatly. ‘Isn’t it a little late for talking between us? I thought we’d said it all three years ago.’

      ‘Sian—’

      ‘Darling, are you ready to leave?’ Chris had paid the bill, coming back for her as he realised she hadn’t followed him out, and his irritation fanned to anger as he saw the way Jarrett was touching her. ‘If you wouldn’t mind, King …’ He pulled Sian to his side, a reckless challenge on his face. ‘It may have escaped your notice,’ he added tauntingly, ‘but Sian wears my ring now.’

      She gasped at this deliberate provocation, seeing Jarrett’s eyes narrow to steely slits.

      ‘Sian never wore my ring,’ he answered in a mild voice—too mild! ‘We never needed such affectations as rings to know she belonged to me.’

      Sian felt herself sway, forcing herself to remain standing as Chris’s hand crushed hers. But she couldn’t speak, knowing she would choke if she even attempted it.

      Chris was white with fury. ‘Well, she doesn’t belong to you now,’ he snapped. ‘So just stay away from her!’

      Jarrett’s jaw had tightened ominously at this, a pulse beating steadily there. ‘I’ll stay away from Sian if she tells me to—and if I think she really means it,’ he added tauntingly. ‘So don’t give me orders, Newman,’ he grated. ‘Sian could tell you—only too well—how much better I respond to—persuasion.’

      ‘Why, you—’

      ‘Could we please leave, Chris?’ Sian had finally found her voice; this last provocation had been too much. She looked at Jarrett with cold hazel eyes. ‘And I do ask you to stay away from me, Jarrett—as I ask you to stay away from Bethany.’

      Her sister coloured painfully, her embarrassment acute. ‘Sian, you can’t—’

      ‘I agree, she can’t,’ Jarrett drawled, bestowing a smouldering smile on the besotted Bethany. ‘And you didn’t mean that, Sian,’ he looked back at her with mocking eyes. ‘I always knew when you were telling the truth—and that wasn’t it.’

      Her mouth twisted, her hand through the crook of Chris’s arm now. ‘How unfortunate I was never as perceptive where you were concerned,’ she was deliberately insulting, ‘then I would have known from the first what sort of man you are.’

      ‘And that is?’ he bit out harshly, all amusement gone now.

      ‘The sort of man I don’t like dating my sister!’ She turned away from the angry flame of his eyes. ‘I’ll talk to you later, Bethany,’ she warned.

      Her sister looked sulky. ‘I’m not a child, Sian,’ she snapped.

      ‘I agree—you aren’t,’ Sian said tightly. ‘Which is precisely the reason I think we should talk.’

      ‘Still trying to be the conscience of your whole family, Sian?’ Jarrett derided.

      She looked at him coldly. ‘Still caring for my family, yes, Jarrett. But caring is something you know nothing about. Excuse us.’ This time she and Chris managed to get out of the restaurant undisturbed.

      ‘Arrogant bastard!’ Chris rasped as he opened the car door for her to get in, closing it with a decisive slam.

      Sian knew how disturbed he had been by the encounter by the fact that he swore; Chris never used strong language. But about this she couldn’t blame him. She could quite cheerfully have sworn herself!

      Jarrett was arrogant, more so than ever before. And he was out to cause trouble. Why, she had no idea; he had hurt her badly enough in the past without wanting to cause a strain between herself and Chris. But the strain was already there, with Chris driving recklessly back to her home.

      ‘I’m coming inside.’ There was a determined glitter to his eyes. ‘We need to talk.’

      She