looked so angry that beneath the pale sweater, Taylor shivered. ‘I don’t know.’ Disconcerted, she pulled herself out of his grasp.
In truth, she hadn’t told her friend and landlady—or indeed anyone who didn’t need to know—that she had been married—and certainly not that her marriage had broken up. She didn’t like the sense of personal failure it implied.
She went across to the window, drew the heavy curtains before turning back to him. ‘You said we had things to discuss.’
‘We most certainly have.’
Tension coiled in her stomach. ‘Like what?’
He didn’t answer for a moment. Then in that deep authoritative way of his he advised, ‘Sit down, Taylor.’
An ache seemed to start somewhere in the middle of her chest as she did as he suggested, dropping down onto one of the sofas. It was her flat, yet even here he was the one giving the orders, the one in control, she acknowledged grudgingly, when he remained firmly on his feet.
‘I know we made a hash of our marriage. And I can see you’ve picked yourself up…’ he sent another glance around the room ‘… sorted your life out quite admirably. It almost makes a man feel… superfluous, especially when all the funds paid into your account were returned in full.’
‘What did you think I’d do, Jared? Take it all with undying gratitude? Did you think I wouldn’t be able to manage on my own?’
‘I didn’t think anything. I didn’t want you to have to— manage, as you put it—or to experience any unnecessary difficulty. Not when I could make life easier for you, even if you weren’t living under my roof any more.’
‘Well… as you can see…’ a small gesture indicated the modest comfort of the flat ‘… I’m not exactly living in squalor or abject poverty.’ Returning her gaze to his, she wished she hadn’t when the dark penetration of his eyes sent a weakening torrent of emotion through her. Quietly, through lips that seemed not to want to move, she murmured, ‘Why have you come?’
The broad, masculine chest lifted and stilled as though it were an effort for him to say what he had come to say. Behind him, the large mirror over the Victorian fireplace reflected wide shoulders that were as rigid as iron.
‘I don’t know about you but… well this state of affairs… It’s hardly very satisfactory, is it? I mean… you living here… while I…’ He glanced away from her, his teeth clenched, as though the state of affairs, as he had called it, fuelled his anger. ‘Being separated, yet not being free either. I think we should change things,’ he rasped.
The composure Taylor prided herself on had deserted her somewhere between coming up here and when he had told her to sit down, and now her words left her on a low croak. ‘Change things?’
Again there was hesitation in Jared’s usually arrogant manner. ‘We can’t go on like this,’ he stated with an air of finality. ‘I certainly don’t think it an ideal situation. And I’m sure you can’t think so. This may come as a surprise to you, but I miss the domestic scene. Call me crazy if you like but I’m keen to throw myself right back there into matrimonial bliss—have a second stab at it—but as you can appreciate, I can’t do it without your co-operation.’
What was he saying? That he wanted them to try again? Surprise, shock and an emotion to which she wanted to give no credence surged through her. Was he saying he had missed her? That he still wanted her?
Well of course he did, an inner little voice told her cruelly after the initial shock of his statement began to wear off. Hadn’t he had the best of both worlds while they had been together?
Slamming the lid on a well of anguished memories, she asked tentatively, ‘Are you implying we should get back together?’ But then the ambiguity of his statement suddenly struck her, making her tag on, ‘Or are you asking me for a divorce?’ She was relieved that no emotion crept into her voice, giving away how much he still affected her and, sparing herself the humiliation of a possible rejection, quickly she added, ‘Because if you are, I don’t intend standing in your way.’
Was it relief or surprise, she wondered, that brought him down onto the opposite sofa? That furrowed his brow and kept his voice low and husky when he spoke again? ‘I hadn’t realised you’d agree to one so readily.’
Taylor drew in a breath that was almost too painful to expel. And to think she could so easily have misunderstood!
She gave a careless movement of her shoulder. ‘Why not? We’re living separate lives. You said so yourself.’ So he wanted to get married again. Have a second stab at it, as he had so casually and unthinkingly called it. ‘Who is she?’ she asked caustically. ‘The wonderful Alicia?’
‘What?’ His eyes had narrowed into slits.
‘This woman you’re prepared to sacrifice your freedom to for a second time?’
He was still looking at her as though he were trying to fathom out why she was asking. Or, from the grimness of his mouth, perhaps he thought she had no right to question him on the subject—no right at all.
‘Or have you found someone else?’ Jumping up, bitterly she couldn’t help flinging down at him, ‘Someone else willing to give you the children I couldn’t—no, wouldn’t— agree to?’
Frighteningly swift, Jared was on his feet. ‘You haven’t a clue what you’re saying,’ he rasped in a harshly chiding tone. ‘I was hoping by now you would have grown up a little and come to your senses! You’re still governed by that jealous nature and a far too vivid imagination. As for children—that isn’t important.’
‘No?’ Her thick hair moved sleekly as she tilted her head, her green eyes dark and injured. ‘Funny! It seemed of paramount importance when you were married to me!’
She gave a small cry as he suddenly reached out, dragging her against him, the hands gripping her upper arms, hard and bruising.
‘I still am. Married to you,’ he breathed, his strong white teeth clamping together, his jaw, with that marked cleft at its centre, locked in anger and some other, more primal emotion that excited as much as it unnerved her.
His closeness could have been her undoing. The strength of those arms that held her but a few centimetres from his body, his familiar, elusive scent and the latent power of his sexuality all combined to make her head swim with the longing to throw her arms around him, tilt her lips in shameless invitation to his. But common sense prevailed and beneath the burn of his gaze she taunted in a whisper and with a control she was far from feeling, ‘Do you want both of us, Jared?’
His features were almost feral, nostrils flaring, his eyes glittering with something that for a few heady seconds had Taylor panicking, fearing that he was going to take the decision away from her and plunge them both into a moment’s savage passion of the kind that had ruled them both during the final days of their marriage. A passion that now they would only both regret.
But then suddenly, and with a heavy lifting of his chest, as if it had taken every ounce of will-power he possessed, he released her.
‘I’ll be in touch,’ he muttered breathlessly, and a few seconds later she heard his footsteps thundering down over the stairs.
CHAPTER
