Paradise Wild (18 page)

“Why?”

“You came here to make a fool out of me and succeeded,” he said, his tone turning harsh, his own anger finally showing. “I didn’t mind being known as the poor, deceived husband, because I didn’t give a damn about you to begin with. But when it was said that I wasn’t man enough to handle my wife, well, that went against the grain. And the one way to have gossip turn in my favor is to show that I’ve taken you in hand.”

“Do you really think people will believe you have forgiven me?” she asked, thinking quickly.

“A man could never forgive a wife who has whored as much as you have,” he said cruelly, delighted to see her flinch. “But that has nothing to do with it.”

“Then what?”

He put his hands on each side of her chair and bent over her, trapping her there. “You carry my name. You should have remedied that. But since you didn’t, you’re going to be the model wife from now on.”

“You’re insane!” she hissed, green fire in her eyes. “I will never do what you want, Jared. We were even, but you’re tilting the scale again. Don’t think I won’t make you pay for it! I promise you I will!”

He laughed and walked towards the door. “We’ll see how much damage you can do isolated in the country.”

“You won’t get me there!”

“If I have to gag and tie you for the whole day’s journey, I will,” he warned her and closed the door, turning the lock firmly once again.

Jared tilted the bottle of rum and took a long drink. He had gone through half the bottle since he had left Corinne in his room. But it didn’t help to drown out the pounding going on upstairs that he was trying desperately to ignore. When the devil would she settle down?

He sat at his desk, pen in hand, trying to compose a letter to Leonaka explaining about his wife, explaining that he would be gone for a few days. The right words wouldn’t come. There was just too much to tell.

Corinne’s baggage from the carriage had been placed in the corner of the room, along with the things she had dropped in the yard. Jared’s eyes kept straying to the corner. A large case, a small one, and a single hat box was all. It didn’t seem to be enough. He just couldn’t picture his stylish wife traveling with so few belongings.

He took another swig of rum and got back to the letter. Soon Ho would deliver it in the morning. In the end, it turned out to be just a short note leaving Leonaka in charge while he was gone. He didn’t say anything about his wife.

An hour later, the bottle empty, and Jared was pacing
the room like a frustrated animal. The pounding upstairs had stopped. Was she sleeping?

Her baggage still drew his attention and curiosity. He finally went to examine the contents and was even more puzzled than before when he found only two dresses and some underthings in the large case, powders, rouge, and perfumes in the smaller case, and just one hat in the hat box. Where were the jewels she had mentioned earlier? Or the dress she had worn last night?

He knew the answer. These things had come from the hotel, that’s why she had them with her. The rest of her clothes must be at that house up in Punchbowl, where Drayton stayed. So she had obviously spent a good deal of time there. Somehow the thought of her living with the man she seemed to love was worse than her bedding countless strangers at her hotel. But for the life of him, Jared couldn’t explain why.

Jared looked up at the ceiling, knowing she was just above him. For a moment he considered going up there and having his way with her. She wouldn’t like that. She had shown the whole island that she preferred any man except the one she married. He started towards the stairs, then stopped abruptly.

What was the matter with him? Corinne was the last woman he wanted. She had used her body for revenge against him, had purposely let other men have her, not because she wanted them, but just to even a score. He wouldn’t touch her, no matter how damnably desirable she might be. She meant nothing to him.

“So why don’t I just let her go and be done with it?” he asked himself aloud.

Jared went back into the living room and hunted out another bottle of rum, then dropped down on the sofa. After a few careless swallows he wiped his lips and his eyes returned once again to Corinne’s few possessions.
She would need more clothes than that to get by on. He would just have to stop by Drayton’s house on the way to the country. He didn’t like the idea of leaving his wife’s things with her lover, anyway. But that would cause a problem, for no doubt Corinne would scream for Drayton’s help.

Well, he could solve that problem at least. It was still early enough. He would go to Drayton’s house now.

Jared grabbed his jacket and left the house. It was ten thirty when he stopped in front of the single-story house. Through curtained windows he could see light, so he knew Drayton was there.

Jared’s lips turned up slowly in a malicious grin. He hadn’t realized how much he was going to enjoy this encounter. He moved a bit unsteadily up the walkway to the front porch, regretting the amount of liquor he had consumed. But even in his inebriated condition, he could tear Drayton apart. He just hoped he hadn’t drunk so much that he wouldn’t be able to remember tonight. It might be an entertaining evening.

Before Jared pounded on the door he heard the sound of a baby crying from inside. He stepped back in confusion. Could he be so drunk that he had come to the wrong house? He went back into the yard and looked at the house again, then at the others along the street. No, damnit, he wasn’t wrong. He marched up to the porch again and hammered on the door.

Several minutes passed. The crying had stopped and Jared decided it must have been his imagination. He pounded on the door again and it opened, but only as far as a chain latch would allow.

Jared narrowed his eyes when he saw the small woman looking out at him through the crack in the door. She couldn’t be more than five feet two, with fuzzy brown hair and hazel eyes. She wasn’t too much
older than himself, and she certainly didn’t look like a housekeeper. Could Drayton be keeping more than one mistress?

“Where is Drayton?”

His tone was belligerent enough to make the woman’s eyes grow round, but she obviously felt confident behind the latched door, for she answered spunkily, “He’s not here and neither is Corinne. So you can just go away, Mr. Burkett. You’re not welcome here.”

She started to close the door, but Jared stuck his booted foot into the crack. “You know me?”

“Of course I know you. I was in the church the unfortunate day you married my Cori.”

“What do you mean,
your
Cori?” he demanded.

“I’ve taken care of Corinne since she was five years old. I’m her maid, Florence Merrill.”

Jared laughed heartily at the foolish assumption he had made earlier, but then a thought struck him. “What in the name of Hades are you doing here?”

“That’s none of your business,” she replied tartly.

“Open the door, Florence Merrill.” His voice had lowered. “I want to talk to you.”

“Oh no.” She shook her head stubbornly. “Corinne wouldn’t want you in her house when she’s not here.”

Jared’s muscles tensed and his brows drew together dangerously. “I thought this was Drayton’s house. You mean to say he’s been living off my wife?”

“She’s paid his way, yes. She insisted on it,” Florence explained quickly. “Corinne doesn’t like to feel obligated to anyone.”

“And did my dear wife pay for her other lovers as well?” Jared asked scornfully.

“You know
why
she came here, Mr. Burkett. She felt she had good reason—”

“Don’t you dare defend that whore to me!” Jared
cut her off fiercely. “Now open this damnable door immediately before I tear it down!”

“No,” Florence managed, though timorously, “You have no right—”

“The hell I don’t!” he growled and stepped back for one solid kick against the door.

The chain latch broke easily, and the door slammed back against the wall. Florence had moved out of the way. Horrified, she watched Jared step into the house and begin looking around.

“So this is the little love nest, eh?” he remarked acridly. “Not as luxurious as the Royal Monarch Hotel. In fact, it’s downright homey.” He turned icy gray eyes on the frightened woman. “No comment, Florence Merrill?”

“I—I told you I’m alone, Mr. Burkett,” she stammered. “What do you want here?”

“I want Corinne’s things, all of them. You can start packing them right now.”

“I couldn’t!” she gasped. “I really couldn’t. Corinne will be furious. She—”

“—she will be grateful,” he finished for her. “You see, Corinne is with me. And she will be staying with me for an indefinite period of time.”

“No! I don’t believe you!” Florence replied. “Cori would never agree to that!”

Jared laughed derisively. “You’re so right. She’s quite against it, in fact. But what she wants doesn’t matter. I’m her husband and I’ve made the decision for her.”

Florence was aghast. The man was within his rights! Now she understood why Corinne hadn’t come home.

“Where is Corinne now?”

“She’s at my house in the city.”

“Are you sure she will be there when you return?” Florence asked doubtfully.

“You know her well, don’t you?” Jared chuckled, though with little humor. “I made sure she’ll be there. She’s locked in my room.”

“Mr. Burkett!”

“Never mind telling me how cruel you think I am,” he said coldly. “It was necessary, and it is only for tonight. In the morning I am taking her to my beach house on the other side of the island where I won’t have to worry about her.” Suddenly he looked at Florence thoughtfully. “I suppose I should offer to take you along for Corinne’s sake. I’m sure she would like having a friend with her. There are other women there, but I doubt they will take to my hot-tempered wife.”

Florence found herself in a quandary. If she went along, Jared would see Michael. The baby was sleeping right now and not drawing attention to himself. Would Corinne want her to take the risk of letting her husband see the baby? She could use the story they had worked out earlier.

Jared spoke again when she didn’t agree readily. “If you would rather not go with Corinne, I could pay your way back to the mainland.”

“Maybe that would be better,” Florence said reluctantly, praying she was making the right decision.

Jared shrugged. “That’s up to you, Miss Merrill.”

“It’s Mrs. Merrill,” she lied just in case she needed the story they’d made up. “And if you’ll sit down and wait, I’ll get Cori’s things together.”

She went off to Corinne’s bedroom, a deep frown creasing her brow. Lord, why was this decision placed in her lap? If only she could talk to Corinne first. She abhorred the thought of leaving Corinne behind with
the one man she hated above all others. But she had been so adamant about not wanting Jared to see his son.

Florence dragged out the traveling bags and started emptying Corinne’s bureau. There was one thing she hadn’t considered. Could Corinne bear to be parted from Michael for so long? Would she rather take the risk than be away from him? Just how long did Jared plan to keep his wife?

Jared appeared in the doorway. “You’re going to have to hurry, Mrs. Merrill,” he said impatiently. “It’s a hellishly long trip to Sunset Beach, and I need at least a little sleep tonight.”

“It takes time to pack,” Florence replied indignantly. “Cori has quite a few belongings here.”

“I can see that,” he retorted curtly, looking about the room. He walked over to the open wardrobe, his eyes caught by the Hawaiian clothes there. He took out a
muumuu
and laughted heartily. “I can’t picture my stylish wife in this thing. Does she really wear it?”

Florence’s eyes widened in alarm. “Cori bought a few of those on impulse, because they looked so comfortable.” She said the first thing that she could think of. “But she’s never worn them.”

She knew it wasn’t necessary to lie, but she felt she had to keep anything connected with Michael a secret. She was beginning to panic.

“My wife does like to waste money, doesn’t she? On clothes…on her lovers,” Jared said scornfully. “It will take forever to pack all these dresses.” He stood back, frowning. “There is an easier way,” he said and scooped the entire length of dresses into his arms and started out of the room.

“Mr. Burkett!” Florence gasped, running after him. “Those dresses will be ruined, and they cost a fortune!”

“A few wrinkles don’t ruin a dress, Mrs. Merrill,” he called over his shoulder as he moved toward the door. “I told you I’m in a hurry. Now finish getting the rest of my wife’s belongings into her bags.”

Florence turned in a huff and went back into Corinne’s bedroom. The man was impossible. How would Cori ever survive living with such an overbearing husband? Her temper would be forever on the rise, and Florence knew all to well that Cori did wild things when riled.

They should never have come here. Florence had warned Cori enough times that no good would come of her outrageous scheme.

Jared loomed in the doorway again. “You’re not finished yet?”

Exasperation and anxiety made her shout, “You do it, then! But you wait and see what Corinne thinks about the mess you make of her things!”

Her raised voice woke Michael in the next room. Florence blanched, hearing his cry. Now the lies would begin. There was no help for it.

Jared looked dumbfounded as she turned accusing eyes on him. “Now look what you’ve made me do,” she said reproachfully and hurried from the room into the nursery.

Florence quickly picked up Michael and soothed him against her breast. Jared had followed her into the room and stood watching her for several moments before he spoke.

“Whose baby is that?”

Florence looked at him warily. His voice had been dangerously low. His eyes were narrowed, dark and menacing. He stared at Michael. Michael continued to cry, paying no attention to the drama going on around him.

“Mine, of course,” she answered quickly, keeping Michael’s face turned away from Jared. “Whose else would he be?”

His expression didn’t change. Lord, what was he thinking?

“You mean to tell me my wife brought you all the way here with a newborn infant?”

“Michael is older than he looks, Mr. Burkett,” Florence said defensively. “He was old enough to travel when we came. I would not have brought him otherwise.”

“And your husband didn’t object?” he demanded incredulously.

“I—I’m a widow,” she explained, finding the lie difficult to get out. “And I have no family. Cori—Corinne didn’t want to bring us with her, with Michael being so young. But I insisted. I wasn’t about to let her come all this way without me. She’s all I have—besides Michael.”

“I’m finding this very hard to swallow, Mrs. Merrill,” Jared said coldly. “Corinne should have had more sense than to take a newborn baby on a long journey. From the size of him, your son couldn’t have been but just born. And you couldn’t have been in any condition to travel, either. How could Corinne have been so foolhardy?”

“I told you Michael is small for his age, Mr. Burkett. He is five months old. He—he was two months when we left Boston. That was old enough to travel.”

Florence knew she didn’t sound convincing. She just wasn’t any good at lying. Please let him believe her, she prayed silently.

“Well, change him or feed him or something,” Jared said harshly as Michael’s wailing continued. “I can’t stand to hear a baby cry.”

He marched from the room and Florence let out a sigh of relief. She put Michael back in his bassinet and began to change him. She knew he must still be hungry. She had fed him ground vegetables earlier, but he didn’t take well to the cow’s milk she was forced to give him. He needed his mother. Now that Jared knew about him, and had apparently believed her story, there was no reason anymore for her and Michael to go back to Boston without Corinne.