Innocent On Her Wedding Night. Sara Craven

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TWO

      THE pain in her ankle was gradually turning to a dull throb. But the pain building inside her was a different matter. There was no quick fix for that, and it threatened to become unendurable more quickly than she could have imagined in her worst nightmares,

      Yet she should have known, after these last two years of utter wretchedness. Months when she’d tried so hard to bury the hurt and bewilderment in the deepest recesses of her mind. And forget him.

      Attempts that had never worked. That had eventually convinced her that only a complete change in her circumstances would do.

      Which was why she’d made the reckless decision to relocate to Florida, without fully considering all the implications. Because she’d seen Andy’s proposition as a chance for rehabilitation—a way of turning her life around and making a new start.

      With an ocean—a whole continent—between Daniel and herself, she’d reasoned wildly, she might just stand a chance …

      But now, after only just over a month, she was back, and in a worse situation than before. And shock and anger were fast giving way to total desperation as she contemplated what the weeks ahead of her would hold.

      Seeing Daniel each day, she realised, her throat tightening. Knowing that he was sleeping only a matter of yards away every night. Oh, dear God …

      She had a sudden image of him as he’d been that night, two years ago, his tanned skin dark against the white towelling bathrobe, his face stark with disbelief in the moonlight as she’d told him, over and over again, her voice small and raw, the words stumbling against each other, that their marriage only a few hours earlier had been a terrible—a disastrous mistake. And that it was finished—over and done with—even before it had begun.

      Forcing him to accept that she meant every word, and that there would be no second chance. Until at last he’d believed her, and turned away in bitter condemnation.

      But he’d done as she wished. The marriage had been dissolved, more quickly and quietly than she’d believed possible.

      What a strange word ‘dissolved’ was to use in the context of ending a marriage, she thought. It sounded almost gentle, implying that the relationship had been made to vanish, like rain falling on the earth. Not the agonised tearing apart—the destruction of her hopes and dreams—that had really taken place.

      Nor had it led to Daniel simply disappearing from her life, as she’d hoped. Because once Laine had started living and working in London he’d been only too much in evidence.

      She’d glimpsed him in the distance across crowded rooms. Looked down from the circle of a theatre to see him in the stalls, or discovered his picture in some paper or magazine. Never alone, either. The parade of his women seemed unending. Although, as she’d reminded herself wretchedly, that was only to be expected.

      After all, he was a free man, in a way that she would never be a free woman. Because his heart had not been broken, or his life shattered, as hers had been.

      But she’d never, mercifully, been close enough to him for their eyes to meet, or any greeting to be exchanged. Some atavistic instinct had always seemed to give her advance warning when he was around, enabling her to steel herself and move unobtrusively out of his orbit.

      Until, of course, today, when her antennae had been disjointed—thrown into confusion by the events of the last forty-eight hours.

      But how could I have thought—how could I possibly have dreamed—that something like this could happen? she asked herself, her throat tightening. Never—never in this world …

      She checked, her heart thudding erratically against her ribs, as his door opened again. This time he was transformed into business formality, in elegant charcoal pants and an immaculate white shirt worn with a crimson silk tie. He was slotting thin gold links into his cuffs as he strode past her towards Jamie’s bedroom without even glancing in her direction.

      She found a voice. ‘What are you doing?’

      He said crisply, ‘Making it possible for you to get to your bathroom without damaging that ankle even more.’

      ‘Please don’t bother.’ Laine lifted her chin. ‘I can cope perfectly well alone.’

      He threw her a sardonic glance. ‘Oh, that it were true.’

      He pushed the door ajar and edged round it, and the next few minutes were filled with various brisk bangs and thuds, and a few muttered curses, while Laine sat chewing her lip.

      She hated being forced to be beholden to him, even in the least respect, she thought furiously. But this would be the last time. She’d see to that.

      From now on she would build a firewall round herself, she promised silently. Practise every avoidance tactic available. Because this was a question of sheer survival.

      When Daniel came back, dusting off his hands, she was sitting rigidly upright, her face inimical.

      ‘Thank you.’ Her tone was ice.

      ‘Gratitude,’ he said, ‘may not be your predominating emotion when you see the state of the bathroom.’ He shrugged into his jacket and picked up his briefcase. ‘But—that’s your problem. One of many, I suspect.’

      He paused, took a business card from his wallet, and tossed it down beside her. ‘Jamie’s contact number,’ he said. ‘I’m sure you’ll want a word with him.’ His smile grazed her. ‘You both have some explaining to do.’

      At the door, he took a final look back at her. ‘And, talking of explanations, one of these days or nights—if the conversation palls—you might care to tell me why you put us both through that farce two years ago. Standing beside me in church, making vows you had no intention of keeping, even for twenty-four hours. When the simplest course would have been to call the whole thing off, saving us both a load of grief.’ He allowed a heartbeat for her to assimilate that. Then, ‘See you later,’ he added with cool emphasis. And went.

      ‘Look,’ Jamie said with a defensiveness Laine could recognise even from the other side of the Atlantic, ‘I didn’t really have a choice. And what’s the beef anyway? Okay, your marriage was a total fiasco, but that’s long over, and I don’t suppose he bears a grudge. Not after all this time.’

       You think that? You really believe it?

      ‘Anyway,’ he added into the silence, ‘there was a time when he was practically one of the family, especially after—after …’

      ‘Don’t,’ Laine said, her voice suddenly husky. ‘Just don’t.’ She took a deep breath, struggling with her composure. ‘You have to understand that things are different now. And I—I don’t think I can do this.’

      ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ His voice took on a peevish note. ‘The two of us got by on a policy of strict noninterference, didn’t we? Same roof, separate lives. And it will be the exactly same with Daniel.’

      No, she said silently. It won’t be. It can’t … Because I’ve done that once before. And how can I live through that same nightmare all over again and remain sane?

      ‘He’s away a lot anyway,’ he added. ‘Visiting the corners of his far-flung empire. And when

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