and me—–’
‘Nothing happened between you and me,’ Jaime retorted grimly. ‘Tom—Tom’s conception was just a—a biological accident. I don’t regard you as his father. I never did.’
‘Well, damn you, I do,’ grated Ben savagely, and then glanced over his shoulder, as if afraid his angry words had been overheard. ‘Whatever kind of fiction you’ve managed to convince yourself of, Tom is my son! You can’t duck out of that as easily as you ducked out of our relationship.’
‘I’ve told you, we didn’t have a relationship,’ hissed Jaime angrily, leaning towards him, and then reared back in alarm when his hand moved to grasp the slim column of her wrist.
‘I hear what you say,’ he told her, in a low, dispassionate voice. ‘But the fact remains, we did have sex together—more than once—and I got you pregnant, just as surely as we’re sitting here exchanging insults!’
Jaime’s breasts rose and fell with the tumult of her breathing. She was intensely conscious of Ben’s fingers circling her wrist, and the heat of his possession was spreading along every nerve and sinew in her arm. She glanced anxiously about her, but to her relief no one seemed at all interested in what was going on at their table. They might have been alone in the garden.
‘And that pleases you, doesn’t it?’ she retaliated now, realising she would get nowhere by being submissive, but to her annoyance Ben nodded.
‘Yes, it pleases me,’ he agreed, his gaze dropping insolently down her body. ‘It doesn’t please me that you chose to keep my son’s existence a secret from me, but I remember his conception with rather more accuracy than you do, obviously.’
‘Bastard!’
‘Liar,’ he countered equably. His thumb moved insistently against the network of veins that marked the inner side of her wrist. ‘So—what are we going to do?’
Jaime swallowed. ‘Don’t you mean—what are you going to do?’
‘No.’ Ben’s eyes lingered on her mouth. ‘I mean, what are we going to do. I realise I can’t come back after all these years and expect us to take up where we left off—–’
‘Damn right!’
‘But there’s still a hell of a lot more than indifference between us, and we both know it.’
‘No!’ Jaime felt incensed.
‘Yes.’ Ben was implacable. ‘Why do you think I came to find you? I didn’t know about Tom then. I didn’t know what a consummate little actress you’d turned out to be.’
‘If you think—–’
‘I think we need a lot more time to handle this rationally,’ Ben cut in steadily. ‘Tom hardly knows me yet. I suggest we let events take their natural course. For the present, anyway.’
Jaime stared at him disbelievingly. ‘You can’t seriously conceive that I’d let you back into my life!’ she exclaimed.
‘Do you have a choice?’ Ben released her wrist abruptly, and took a mouthful of his beer. Then, wiping the foam from his lip with the back of his hand, he appended, ‘I think Tom might have something to say about that.’
Jaime gasped. ‘You’d bring Tom into this?’
‘Why not?’ Ben regarded her without expression. ‘He is involved.’
‘No.’
‘Yes.’ Ben lifted his shoulders indifferently. ‘I assume you’d rather I didn’t tell Phil about him.’
‘Phil!’ For a few moments, Jaime had forgotten about her ex-husband, but Ben’s words struck a chill into her heart. ‘That’s—that’s blackmail,’ she said unsteadily.
‘No, it’s not.’ Ben pushed his beer aside. ‘I’m not suggesting I would tell Phil. I’m just pointing out the alternatives I have at my disposal.’
Jaime scrubbed at the wrist he had been holding with her other hand, hardly aware of what she was doing. ‘If you don’t intend telling Phil, then why did you mention him? You’re threatening me, Ben. And I despise you for it.’
‘You’re wrong.’ Ben expelled his breath heavily. ‘Jaime, all I want is for you to accept the situation as it really is, and not as you’d like to make it.’
Jaime moved her head from side to side. ‘And if Tom doesn’t want to see you again?’
Ben’s mouth flattened. ‘He will.’
‘Why?’ Jaime knew she was losing, but she had to make one final bid for her future. ‘Because you can offer him big houses, and big cars, and—and swimming-pools?’
‘No.’ Ben’s response was grim, and when he leaned towards her a frisson of fear feathered her spine. ‘Believe it or not, I regret what I said on Saturday night,’ he told her savagely. ‘It was a—gut reaction to your intransigence, but that doesn’t alter the fact that I shouldn’t have bragged about the house. No, the reason Tom will want to see me again is something much more basic. You may not like it, but we got on rather well. And whatever grudge you think you have against me, I won’t let you keep us apart!’
THE rest of the week was an anti-climax. Jaime went to work every morning anticipating the worst, and came home every evening fully expecting Ben to have contacted Tom in her absence. But he didn’t. Tuesday seeped into Wednesday, and Thursday into Friday, and there was no further communication from him. Indeed, it got to such a point that Jaime actually found herself wondering if he was ill, and although she told herself that that prospect gave her no concern it gave her no satisfaction either. Tom, she knew, was disappointed that his uncle hadn’t been in touch. In spite of his brave statement of indifference, he had expected Ben to try to see him again. Of course, he knew nothing about his mother’s encounter at the beginning of the week. Jaime had had no choice but to keep that to herself. She only hoped that if Ben did see Tom again he would do the same. She didn’t like keeping secrets from her son, but it was too late now to do anything about it.
‘Are you going to the disco tonight?’ she asked on Friday evening, finding even the prospect of her son’s continuing association with Angie Santini preferable to the alternative at the moment, but Tom shook his head.
‘No,’ he answered. ‘I don’t feel like it. I think I’ll clear out my room instead.’
‘Clear out your room?’ Jaime turned from straining vegetables at the sink to stare at her son. ‘Since when did you clear out your room without being asked?’
‘Since now,’ exclaimed Tom defensively. ‘Well—there’s not much else to do, is there?’
Jaime hesitated. ‘Well, it’s a lovely evening. You could take—Angie—for a walk.’
‘Nah.’ Tom shook his head again. ‘Angie’s going to the disco.’
‘And
