An Interrupted Marriage (Silhouette Special Edition) (13 page)

His gaze remained on her face, not her body, with a strange, brooding look, nothing sexual in it at all. She was suddenly conscious of the chilliness of the water, and goose-pimples arose on her skin. She moved, turning to swim back to the rock and haul herself out.

He directed that strangely impersonal look at her and didn’t alter his lounging position. Jade grabbed a towel and, turning her back on him, wrapped it about her like a sarong, then sat on the edge of the rock, her toes just touching the water.

Her hair dripped unheeded on her shoulders. Her body tingled all over. She felt more alive than she had for a long time, every sense and nerve end excruciatingly sensitive. She heard the infinitesimal sound of a dried leaf drifting onto the rock beside her, the trees moving above, the faint flutter of wings as a fantail flashed from branch to branch. She was acutely, pleasurably aware of every tiny, separate droplet of water that ran over her skin, and knew when a fleeting, insubstantial cloud momentarily dimmed the sun. She felt the warm, slightly gritty smoothness of the rock under her palms, and heard Magnus’s even breathing behind her. And time stood still.

When he moved, she knew by the change in his breathing, the small sounds he made. She held her own breath in anticipation, then heard him gather up his jeans, the swift slide of the material over his legs, the rasp of the zip.

“You look cold,” he said. “You stayed in too long. Let’s go.”

I
t was more of a shock than the plunge into the cold pool had been. Jade felt her spine stiffen, then she got to her feet and turned to face him.

He had her clothes in his hands, holding them out to her. “Do you want to dress first?”

She snatched them from him. “Do you want me to?” she challenged him. Her cheeks burned, her eyes, too—they felt hot and bright.

Something flickered in the depths of his. In a voice like oiled silk, he said softly, “Is that an invitation?”

Her forehead pounded tightly. Something that had been simmering inside her was welling up, coming to the boil. “It’s a
question!
“ she said. “This was your idea, Magnus. I thought—”

As she paused, he said, “What did you think?”

That he’d hoped the swim might turn into a romantic interlude, of course. That they’d recapture some of the spontaneous joy of their long-ago lovemaking.

Why else had he given her that amused look when she said she’d put on a swimsuit, as though to suggest she didn’t really need it? Why else engage her in that provocative underwater embrace? Why else, for heaven’s sake, put himself on display the way he had? He must have been well aware of the signals he was sending out.

Refusing to back down, she said, “You know perfectly well. What are you trying to do to me, Magnus?”

“What
have
I done to you?” he enquired, his eyes glinting. He stretched out a hand suddenly and with one finger loosened the towel tucked under her arms so that it slipped down to her waist, exposing her barely covered breasts in the damply clinging bikini bra to his lowered gaze. She might as well have been naked.

His mouth moved in something like a smile, and his eyes slowly returned to hers. “Ah,” he murmured. “I see. That’s very flattering, darling—but here?” His disparaging glance passed over the rock they stood on. “Or on the grass, perhaps? A bit less spartan, I’ll grant you. Actually, I’d planned to return to the house and the comfort of a proper bed—I thought maybe you’d prefer that. But you’re not good at waiting, are you? If you’re that impatient, I’ll be happy enough to accommodate you—”

Humiliated, confused, angered, Jade felt her temper give way. She raised a hand and slapped him with her open hand, hard. His head jerked momentarily to one side, and she swept past him wordlessly, one swift glance showing her the red mark of her hand on his cheek, and a look in his eyes that couldn’t possibly be
relief.

Then she was on the path, her palm fiercely stinging, like her eyes, and her hands hauling the towel up again as she went, clumsily because of the clothes she still held and also because her fingers were unsteady.

She was halfway to the house before she realised that her feet were being hurt, on the rough pathway. She’d neglected to put on the thongs she’d been wearing, must have left them back at the pool.

At the house she flung the towel onto the bed, stripped off the bikini and rummaged in her bag for clean undies and the first garment that came to hand. Everything she’d brought with her was either extremely casual or extremely sexy. She hauled on the green silk wrap that would at least cover her up, tied it tightly at her waist, and went into the bathroom to rinse her feet under the cold tap of the bath.

The water was stained pink, and she examined the underside of her foot, finding a small cut welling blood.

Cursing under her breath, she swung herself away from the bath and started investigating the bathroom cupboards. There was soap, toilet paper, towels and even a couple of toothbrushes still in their wrappings, but there didn’t seem to be any medical gear. She took a clean facecloth and pressed it to her foot, still cursing. The bath had a wide lip, and she sat on the corner, cradling the foot up on her other thigh.

Then she heard Magnus calling sharply, “Jade?”

He called again, from the bedroom, before she answered, “In the bathroom.”

He threw open the door and stood on the threshold, looking oddly gaunt and sallow. His gaze raked over her. “There’s blood on the floor out here.”

“Sorry, I didn’t notice until I started to wash my feet. I’ll clean it up.”

He held her thonged sandals in one hand. “You make a habit of forgetting your shoes, don’t you?” he said, and dropped them on the floor of the bedroom, before coming towards her. “Let me see.”

Jade shook her head. “The pressure may stop it bleeding, I don’t want to let go yet. It’s quite a small cut. I can’t find any plasters or disinfectant.”

“I’ll have a look.” He investigated the cupboards and then moved out into the other room. She heard him in the kitchen and a few minutes later he came back with a plastic container marked with a red cross.

He took a box of plasters out and said, “How big?”

“Very small, really,” Jade said. “I told you.” She gingerly removed the cloth. “It’s almost stopped.”

He poured disinfectant onto a cotton wool swab and crouched in front of her. “This will sting.”

It did, but she didn’t complain. Magnus carefully wiped the wound with another piece of cotton wool and pressed a plaster firmly onto her foot.

“Thank you.” Jade prepared to stand up, but his strong fingers curved about her foot where it lay across her thigh, preventing her from moving. He hadn’t looked up, apparently still inspecting his first aid. She could see the way his hair grew back from his temples, and the slant of his eyebrows, and the hard planes of his cheek and jaw.

“Jade.”

She stiffened. “What?”

“I didn’t mean to say those things. Probably I deserved that slap.”

Jade took a deep, hasty breath. “
I
thought so,” she said. Then, “Why did you say them?”

He raised his eyes. They told her nothing. He seemed to have deliberately made them blank, cold, expressionless. “You don’t know?”

Jade shook her head.

“I tried to warn you,” he said.

About being alone with him. Better words than blows, she supposed. But words had the power to hurt, too—to cripple.

“And I told
you,
“ she reminded him, “that you’re not the only one to be angry.”

A glimmer of a smile touched his mouth. “I believe it. You pack quite a punch. My head’s still ringing.”

Her voice heavy with irony, she enquired, “Am I supposed to say I’m sorry?”

Magnus’s mouth was rueful. He shook his head. “No.” Releasing her foot, he stood up and drew her upright with him, his hands on her upper arms. “One thing I did mean,” he said seriously. “I had planned to take you to bed—and I do mean bed—at some stage this week, but not in haste or on some uncontrollable impulse. When I make love to you again, I want everything to be as nearly perfect as I can make it.”

She could understand that. Hadn’t she carefully packed her sexiest nighties, her most frivolous underwear, and bought herself a range of bath oils and body spray and perfume, with exactly the same thought in mind?

“So,” Magnus went on, “maybe it’s just as well we got rid of some of our...aggression this afternoon.”

Jade hated conflict, but she had to admit that now she felt rather less tense. She’d put it down to the energetic, hurried climb back to the house, and to the gentleness with which he’d tended her wound. Still, perhaps he had a point. Bottled up anger and frustration couldn’t be good for a relationship. She said, “You didn’t hit me back.”

Magnus looked thoughtful. “No. I hope you’re not intending to capitalise on the fact.”

“Did you want to?” Her eyes held his.

After a moment he shook his head. “What I wanted to do was—just exactly what I suggested—get you down on the ground right there and then, and do something equally violent.”

Jade felt herself shiver, and her eyes widen. “You...wouldn’t,” she whispered.

“
God,
I hope I wouldn’t!” His hands had tightened on her. “Until I married you, I’d always thought of myself as a very civilised animal.”

She’d thought she was, too, until Magnus and their mutual passion had taught her otherwise. If they had made love this afternoon by the pool—or even in it—that wouldn’t have been the first time they’d done so outdoors, or without the benefit of a bed. He might never have fulfilled his fantasy of doing so on one of their desks, but she recalled not only midnights on the beach, but midday in a secluded corner of a hay paddock, with the swaying, sweet-smelling grasses hiding them from view, a couple of hours spent on a blanket spread under concealing trees overlooking the sea, and more than one interlude in the dim, cool recesses of the hay barn, when afterwards, laughing, they’d had to pick bits of dried grass and clover from each other’s clothes and hair.

There had been times when, with only half an hour between Magnus’s return from the city office and the serving of the evening meal, they’d barely made it to the dinner table, with clothes hastily donned and hair quickly combed, and Jade had found herself blushing under Mrs. Riordan’s astute and scornful eyes.

In fact, their bedroom had been the place where Jade felt most inhibited, least likely to enjoy more adventurous forms of lovemaking. Magnus had teased her about it, and she’d laughed at his teasing, but she was unable to shake the knowledge that the bedrooms of his brothers and sister were not far away, or her morbid certainty that his mother was lying awake, staring at the ceiling and listening for the slightest creak or distant moan of pleasure.

“Jade?” Magnus was staring at her, still holding her shoulders, his eyes questioning, almost suspicious. “How about a truce?” he suggested. “At least until after dinner.”

“I don’t want to fight,” she said. “If you can be...civilised, I can.”

A smile touched his hard mouth. “I promise I’ll try.” He looked at her a moment longer, then bent his head slowly and kissed her mouth, with extreme precision and gentleness.

She stood quiet in his hold, not moving at all, her lips unresponsive but quiescent.

He stopped kissing her and looked at her gravely, then his hands slid down and he swung her off her feet, cradling her in his arms.

Startled, Jade stiffened. But he only carried her through into the bedroom and, going down on one knee, deposited her on the wide, low bed. “You’d better stay there for a while,” he said, standing up. “I’ll clean up the blood spots and start dinner.”

Jade sat up. “There’s no need! I can walk.”

“You don’t want to start it bleeding again, and making more mess. I’ll tell you when you have to get up. Want a book or anything? There are some books and magazines in the living-room.”

“Actually,” Jade confessed, “I wouldn’t mind a nap.” The mattress was firm and very comfortable. And lying on it made her want to curl up against the piled pillows.

“Have one,” Magnus suggested.

“I was going to make dinner.”

“I can do it.” At her surprised look, he added, “I guess you know I’m no gourmet chef, but I’ve done some cooking over the last few years, and with all the supplies we bought, I’d have to be fairly helpless not to be able to turn out a decent meal.”

She watched him walk out, her mind somewhat bemused. She wasn’t used to the new, mercurial Magnus, who changed moods as easily as he changed his socks, and more frequently. She found it difficult to reconcile this concerned, considerate man—the Magnus she’d always known—with the hard, insulting stranger at the pool. She had the feeling that some kind of deadly serious game was going on between them, only she didn’t know the moves, and no one had told her what the rules were.

She closed her eyes, grateful that at least for now hostilities had been suspended. She didn’t believe in solving problems with violence, and she knew Magnus didn’t, either, but perhaps the fact that he’d driven her to that had shocked them both back into a less hostile frame of mind.

Nothing had been resolved, she reminded herself. But maybe they were in the process of working out ways in which they could reconcile their hurt and anger with each other, turn them into something more constructive.

* * *

She woke to find him sitting on the end of the bed, watching her.

“How long have you been there?” she asked.

“A few minutes. You look dead sexy, asleep.” He stretched out a hand and fingered the green silk of her robe. “I remember this.” The room had dimmed, and his eyes gleamed, colourless.

“You bought it for me.”

“I know. I hoped you’d wear it just for me.”

“I did,” she said, wondering at the oddly questioning note in his voice. “I have.”

A corner of his mouth twisted. “Good. I’ve been thinking.”

He seemed to hesitate then, and Jade prompted, “Yes?”

“I had some idea of having things out,” he said slowly, “before we went any further. But digging over past mistakes—at this point, anyway—is a fruitless exercise. We’ve both made our apologies, inadequate though words are for some forms of betrayal. Recriminations aren’t going to help either of us. Better to make this week the start of something new and enduring. It’s what you’ve wanted all along, isn’t it?”

“I suppose so.” Certainly she had wanted nothing more than to return to the loving, trusting and passionate relationship they’d once had.

Magnus stood up. “Dinner’s ready. Are you going to eat like that?” His eyes lingered on her lying there, one arm across her waist, her legs bared almost to the top where the satin robe had parted in her sleep. “Not that I have any objections.”

He’d changed into a pair of dark trousers and a white shirt. She said, “I’ll put something on.” She got up, too. “Can you give me ten minutes?”

“I’ll open the wine.” He sauntered out.

Jade went straight to the bathroom to freshen up and brush her teeth. She knew what dress she was going to wear—the one that Magnus had chosen for her.

She put it on, and a dash of fuchsia lipstick to match, blotting it so that it only hinted at an echo of the colour. She made up her eyes carefully, and dabbed perfume on every pulse spot. Yesterday she’d washed her hair, and the fresh water of the water-hole had left it soft and a little wayward. She brushed it into shape.

Lastly, she slipped her feet into a pair of high-heeled sandals that flattered her ankles, and went to join her husband.