could not have that. As for being mean, Jed was not mean but incredibly generous with material things, Phoebe recognised sadly. But with his thoughts, his emotions, he was the meanest man she had ever met—that was if he had any emotions, which she doubted. His self-control and his arrogant confidence in everything he did was incredible and he would never change. Jed Sabbides was always right…
‘Yes, you are right,’ Phoebe agreed. But with a faint spark of her former self surfacing she could not help adding, ‘In the scheme of things the cost of a private doctor is nothing to you, I know.’
Jed had the niggling sense he was missing something, but Marcus had walked in with Dr Norman and a nurse, and, leaping to his feet, he demanded of his friend, ‘I want Phoebe out of here, Marcus, and under your care immediately.’
‘It’s after midnight, Jed, and Phoebe is exhausted. Better to wait until the morning,’ Marcus replied and Dr Norman agreed with him.
Jed wasn’t satisfied. ‘Marcus, I want the best for Phoebe, and this is not it.’
‘I am not going anywhere,’ Phoebe murmured, and all three turned to look at her. ‘I just want to sleep.’
‘She is right, gentlemen,’ Dr Norman spoke up again. ‘Let the nurse give her a sedative, and we can take this discussion outside.’
Phoebe stood in the kitchen, talking to the cat. ‘You were right about the man, Marty. I should have trusted your instincts instead of mine. Jed Sabbides, for all his wealth, is emotionally and morally bankrupt—an utterly ruthless and despicable man, and I hate him.’ The cat purred as if in agreement. ‘But you belong to me now, and you and I are leaving.’
She picked up the cat and placed her in the pet carrier, then picked up the bag with the jewellery box inside and without a backward glance left the apartment. Her cases were already in the foyer and her car was parked outside.
Phoebe thanked the doorman for loading her cases, and after placing the pet carrier in the back seat of her car she fastened the seat belt around the box, slid behind the wheel and drove off.
When she had woken the morning after her miscarriage Jed had been there and Dr Norman had discharged her. Still devastated by her loss, she hadn’t cared what happened to her, and when Jed had insisted he would take care of her she’d been too weak to resist, so she’d let him, and returned to the apartment.
Dr Marcus had provided a nurse to stay with her over the weekend, although Jed had insisted he could look after her. An appointment had been made at Marcus’s private clinic for the D&C the following week, and after a lot of persuading from the nurse and Phoebe that he was fussing over her too much Jed had left that afternoon to attend his father’s birthday party in Greece.
He had said, ‘You have my mobile number—ring me if you need me. But I will be back on Sunday evening. You can count on it.’ Then he had promised to take her to her appointment at the clinic the next week, kissed her goodbye, and left.
Well, it was now Monday, and the nurse had gone but Jed had not returned. After Phoebe had tried to to get in touch with him late last night a woman had answered his phone—Christina, his PA, apparently—and after an enlightening conversation Phoebe had known she was going nowhere except home…
She couldn’t believe she had been so weak, so spineless, that she had let Jed fool her a second time—well, never again, she vowed…
The warmth and the love she had thought she felt for him had turned into cold, bitter contempt, and so she had done what he expected of a mistress. Taken everything he had ever given her, including the car.
It was little enough for the price of a child.
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