A Reason For Marriage. Penny Jordan
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But she hadn’t been able to do that. Both her mother and Mark adored Jake, and it would have broken Mark’s heart to learn the truth. Above all else Mark was a truly honourable man, and to discover that his son was not would hurt him unbearably. So she had kept quiet, forcing herself to make for herself a new life, to give herself new motivation, to tell herself and make herself believe that what she really wanted from life was a career and success.
The late autumn dusk was fast closing to evening, reminding her how advanced the year was. The familiar pain thinking of the past always brought her was deepened by a feeling of sombre despair. It was six years ago, for God’s sake, and still it was no better, all she had achieved was the ability to close herself off from the pain and pretend to the rest of the world that it simply didn’t exist.
Other girls of her age endured similar traumas and recovered; went on to meet other men, make other relationships; why was it that she had never found anyone who could displace Jake from her heart?
Perhaps it was because for her the sense of betrayal had been so much greater, heightened by the fact that Jake was not only her first love and lover, but also the person closest to her in every other emotional way, so that his treachery had robbed her not only of a lover but of a brother, a friend and a secure rock to cling to all in one go.
What made it worse was the fact that she had loved him so crazily, believed in him so implicitly that she had never for one moment placed the slightest credence on Wanda’s revelations. After all, she knew there had been other girls in his life before her; he was eight years older than her; he had been away at university, and above and beyond that he was a man who possessed such a powerful aura of sexual magnetism that living the life of a celibate would be practically impossible for him.
Pity the poor girl who did marry him, she thought acidly. He wouldn’t remain faithful for very long, especially not to a naïve nineteen-year-old.
Although she had not seen it when they made love, looking back now she recognised that there had always been an edge of constraint in the way he touched her, a faint holding back, which she suspected now came from the fact that he had doubtless found her inexperience something of a trial. At the time she had not been aware of this, giving herself to him with a blissful joy that recognised nothing other than the unbelievable fact that he loved her. The merest touch of his fingers against her skin had been enough to set her alight with pleasure and happiness, and in her innocence she had thought it was the same for him, that the reason he had made love to her was that like her, he simply couldn’t wait to consummate their love.
He had been very patient with her, very careful and gentle, but then why should he not have been, she thought bitterly now. It wouldn’t have served his purpose at all for him to have frightened her away, and of course, he had always had women like Wanda to turn to for the satisfaction she didn’t give him.
With a sudden shiver, she turned away from the window, achingly aware that her thoughts were careering off down a very dangerous path. She had put the past behind her, and that was where it was going to stay. Although in Jake’s arms, she had quivered with pleasure and ached for his touch, none of the men she had casually dated in the years that had intervened had aroused the slightest sexual interest in her. It was as though that part of her was frozen—or simply no longer existed, she thought wryly—but then what was sex after all other than simply another appetite? Did anyone waste time bemoaning the fact that they didn’t long for food? Just as some people could get along with merely a couple of hours’ sleep a night, while others needed eight hours, so she could live without sex. It was as simple and basic as that.
Maybe, a small inner voice criticised, but what about love? Love? Her mouth trembled and then firmed. What was love after all? That delirious, dangerous emotion Jake had aroused in her? If so she was better off without it. But she wasn’t without it, she reminded herself; even the mere sound of Jake’s name on someone else’s lips was enough to make her muscles cramp and her pulses race. The reason she had avoided him so assiduously since she had run away was not that she loathed and hated him, but that she was terrified of betraying to his too-knowing gaze that she was still acutely vulnerable to him. Whilst he didn’t know how she felt about him she felt in some indefinable way safer, although why she didn’t know. After all, what difference would her feelings make to him? He had never attempted to get in touch with her, never tried to explain.
There had been a letter from him, arriving soon after he had received her note, but she had torn it up unread. Had he guessed then that she had lied when she claimed that she felt she was too young to marry and settle down? It had been little more than a sop to her pride, and she had no doubt that he had seen straight through it, but the very fact that he had made no attempt to see her or justify himself to her was surely proof of how right Wanda’s allegations had been.
And now tomorrow he was coming here—with his new girlfriend. Did she have the strength to face him? Did she have any choice? If she left now Beth was bound to speculate, and she had after all nothing to fear. No one in the family knew of that brief month of ecstasy he had given her before the lies and deceit caught up with him. No, only she and Jake knew about those evenings in his flat when she had lain in his arms and felt his hands against her skin, when he had told her that he had been waiting for her to grow up, waiting for her to see him as a man and not simply as a stepbrother.
It was dark now. How long had she been standing staring into space? She glanced at her watch. Almost an hour. Beth would be wondering what on earth she was doing.
At least she had been granted a few hours to prepare herself. She looked at the case she had dropped on the bed and went over to it, unsnapping the locks. She had come straight to Bristol after nothing more than a brief stop at her London flat, giving herself time only to shower and re-pack.
In New York she had had enough free time to do some shopping. With this visit in mind she had bought a sweater for Beth and a beautifully dressed rag-doll for her goddaughter.
She unpacked automatically, her movements deft with experience. In her case was the new Calvin Klein she had bought in New York. She had packed it on impulse, a handful of dark lavender silk jersey that looked nothing on the hanger but which moulded her body and picked out the unusual colour of her eyes. It was a sophisticated dress that only just fell short of meriting the description ‘sexy’. She would wear it tomorrow night, she decided grimly. Whatever her private feelings might be, she wanted Jake to be in no doubt at all that the old Jamie had gone. As she hung the dress up she thanked God for the experience that had taught her over the years exactly how to conduct a light-hearted flirtation without involving herself in anything more. If she knew her cousin, Beth would be providing her with a dinner partner; normally she would have been cool and distant with him, letting him know that she was not in the market for a one-night stand or anything else, but tomorrow…
She heard her cousin’s voice calling to her outside her bedroom door, and composing her face into an expression of cool serenity she went to open it.
‘Sarah’s awake now,’ Beth told her, holding up the blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby for Jamie’s closer inspection.
‘Heavens, she’s grown so much.’
After a few seconds’ solemn inspection the little girl deigned to smile.
‘It’s bath-time,’ Beth explained, glancing ruefully at her cousin’s immaculate skirt and cashmere jumper. ‘I’m sorry to be such a poor hostess. If you want to go downstairs…’
‘What I want