Soliman, Wendy - The Name of the Game (BookStrand Publishing Romance) (5 page)

The card was signed simply with a flourishing,
M
.

Nothing had changed! Ashley’s face heated at his downright nerve. Even so, the card never did make it to the bin and finished up securely zipped into her bag.

The day seemed never-ending, but Ashley, calling upon reserves of strength she didn’t know she possessed, got through it without revealing to anyone the depths of her despondency. Matt, she noticed dispassionately, gave up easily. Not once had he attempted to ring her from Southampton. Not that she would have taken his call—she’d been screening her incoming ones suspiciously all day for that very purpose—but that wasn’t the point.

When she returned home she was cheered by the sight of little Callie, leaping up and down in excitement, Freckles at her side, wagging up a storm.

“Come on, Auntie Ashley,” she said impatiently. “We’ve been waiting for you for ages! Mummy’s got a surprise for you. It’s a birthday cake and a present,” she confided in a theatrical whisper. “Can I help you blow out your candles?”

“Of course you can, sweetheart.” Ashley kissed her on top of her silky head and took her hand. “There must be lots of candles, so I’ll need your help. Can you blow really hard?”

“Yes, of course.” She sucked in a massive breath, pursed her lips, and let it out in an exaggerated whoosh. “See?”

“That should do it,” Ashley said, smiling.

“Are you very old, Auntie Ashley?”

“Ancient, darling, at least a hundred.”

“A hundred!” The child’s eyes grew as large as saucers. “Wow, that really
is
old.”

It was the only part of the day that Ashley really enjoyed. Callie was a typically energetic, well-adjusted four-year-old, full of questions and apt to take the answers she received literally. Thus, Ashley was obliged to give her full attention to the little girl. She actually laughed at Callie’s perspicacity, not to mention her devious attempts to distract her mother’s attention whilst she snaffled a third slice of cake. For the first time that day, Ashley could dismiss the image that had thus far haunted her every conscious moment—one of piercing silver-gray eyes concentrated disarmingly on her face—and the surging tide of emotions that vision induced.

Ashley spent the evening at the stables, which she and Freckles could reach by walking across the fields behind their house. She was training Lucius, her eight-year-old Irish Draft gelding, in advanced dressage. There was a competition in a week’s time that she needed to prepare for. And so she celebrated her birthday alone, losing herself in the only pursuit guaranteed to dismiss Matt from her mind. She practised the seven-minute routine in the indoor school, with only Freckles for company, and managed to concentrate every part of her mind exclusively on the job in hand.

She and Lucius understood one another instinctively and blended together so well that they almost became as a single unit. Ashley had been told that her long legs, encased in tight-fitting jodhpurs and top boots, appeared not to move at all as they firmly guided Lucius into the complicated manoeuvres. Lucius’s mastery of the half-pirouette, the only movement he hadn’t properly got the hang of, was improving steadily, and by the end of their session, she was delighted with his progress. He was as ready as he’d ever be and they had a good chance of finishing in the top five. If by some miracle they finished first or second, then they would automatically qualify for the regional finals later in the season. But Ashley, knowing how tough the competition was likely to be, wasn’t holding her breath.

Refusing an invitation from some of the others at the stables to go to the local, Ashley went home instead and spent a long time under a hot shower. She had lit the fire in the sitting room earlier and threw another log on it now, watching distractedly as a flurry of sparks flew up the chimney. Although it was still only October the evenings were chilly and, anyway, she loved the homely smell of burning wood. The eerie shadows the flames cast over the walls of the otherwise unlit room suited her mood perfectly. Freckles clearly agreed with her and stretched out in front of the blaze, his eyes dropping as he sighed and rested his head on his front paws.

Ashley ate a slice of toast in lieu of dinner and opened a bottle of wine. Her breath caught when she observed the label. It was a favourite burgundy that Matt had given her. Suppressing all thoughts of her errant lover, Ashley settled on the sofa and curled her feet comfortably beneath her. She sat in contemplative silence, sipping her wine, her mood reflective, as she waited for Sandy, who had agreed to come up and share the wine once Callie was asleep.

Ashley was snapped out of her reverie by the sound of the doorbell. Surprised that her friend hadn’t let herself in with her own key, she got up to answer it.

Matt filled the opening with his musculature, the smile on his lips both determined and slightly apprehensive. Ashley’s own smile, dredged up for Sandy’s benefit, froze on her lips. Just for a moment, she was unsure what to do. Her treacherous heart leapt at the sight of Matt. Unprepared as she’d been to find him at her door, pleasure must have shown in her eyes. She struggled to amend that situation.

“What are you doing here?”

“Did you really think I’d give up that easily?” He bent to stroke the clambering Freckles, but his eyes didn’t once leave her face.

“I thought you were in Southampton.” Now why had she said that? Why give the impression that it mattered to her where he was, or that she’d given the situation any thought?

“I was. I drove back especially to see you.” The smile he offered her heated the air between them. Ashley, determined not to fall victim to his mesmerizing charm, pretended not to notice. “Happy birthday, darling. Can I come in? I’ve been in meetings all day, so I couldn’t phone. Anyway, I knew that even if I did you probably wouldn’t take the call.”

“You got that dead right.”

“So I came back to see you in person.” He paused, but when she said nothing, he spoke again. “We need to talk.” He looked, and obviously was, exhausted. It heartened Ashley to imagine that he’d slept little better than her, but she wasn’t about to let that knowledge influence her.

“I’m expecting someone.”

“Please, Ashley. We can’t leave things like this. I’ve driven all this way and have to go back again tonight, so I—”

“Back to
Evie
?” Ashley stiffened her spine, trying to disguise the hurt she felt beneath a veneer of indifference. “Of course you do.”

“Ashley, please, just give me ten minutes.”

Reluctantly, she backed away from the door.

“Thank you.”

He walked into the sitting room, just as he’d done on so many occasions in the past. She saw his surprise at the lack of lighting from any source other than the fire, but he made no comment on it. Seeing the open bottle of wine and two glasses, a momentary shadow passed across his face. His obvious jealousy cheered Ashley.

“Drink?” she asked him sweetly, proffering the bottle. “Although, if you’ve got to drive all the way back to Southampton, you probably shouldn’t indulge.”

“The hell with that.” He took the glass from her hand and settled himself at one end of the settee. She took the armchair opposite, as far away from physical contact with him as possible. She was suddenly grateful for the lack of light. She absolutely didn’t want to look at him or for him to read her expression.

“Happy birthday,” he said again, raising his glass in her direction. “Oh, and I have something for you.” Putting his glass down, he reached into his jacket pocket and produced a small, wrapped package.

“It’s hardly appropriate now,” she told him in a cold tone.

“Ashley, please!” He placed the package on a side table and took up his glass again. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am about Eve turning up yesterday.”

“Oh, you don’t need to. I’m sure I can imagine your feelings perfectly well,” she said scathingly. “After all, her visit has effectively put paid to your bit on the side.”

“Is that what you really think? After everything we’ve been to each other, how can you —”

“Grow up, Matt! You’ve had your fun. But now you’ve been caught out and it’s over.”

He shook his head. “There’s an explanation.”

“Really! You can explain how your ‘estranged’ wife is pregnant. Go right ahead. What’s stopping you?” She folded her arms beneath her breasts and glared a challenge at him, willing herself not to cry. “That’s one I’d
love
to hear.”

“Unfortunately, it’s not straightforward.” He ran a hand through his hair, offering her a beseeching look she pretended not to see. “I can’t tell you yet, much as I’d like to. There are other considerations involved. Vitally important ones. I just need you to trust me. I swear to you that everything I’ve said about my feelings for you, about our future together, are the gospel truth.”

“For God’s sake, what sort of idiot do you take me for?” She stood and paced the room, furious that he seemed to think she’d believe him and fall into his arms. “No, don’t bother to answer that. I think I can work it out without your help.”

He dropped his voice to a persuasive whisper. “If only you knew what I’m going through.”

Ashley lost it then. He’d broken her heart, and she was supposed to feel sorry for him! As fury gripped her, so her voice became icily calm.

“What you’re going through? Sorry, Matt, you must forgive me, but somehow I hadn’t got round to seeing it in that light.” The look she threw him, full of withering contempt, would have quelled a less determined man. “I was ecstatic yesterday when you said we could eat out anywhere we liked, do you realize that?” She didn’t give him a chance to respond. “I really thought you were as fed up as I am with skulking around, never doing anything together.”

“I am. That’s why I—”

“Matt, we both ride, but you haven’t even been with me to see Lucius, just in case you’re recognized. I’ve never been to Lingfield to see your horse, presumably for the same reason. Or perhaps because your mother might ask questions about me that you’d prefer not to answer. Hell if I know which, nor do I much care anymore. I thought it was all because of your sons, to protect their feelings, and that eventually it would all be worked out.” She paused in her pacing to shake her head. “I realize now just how gullible I’ve been.”

He stood as well and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Ashley, don’t!”

She shook his hands away and continued to pace. “At last I thought we were getting somewhere. We’d dine out together and spend the night here. But that wouldn’t have happened, would it?” She shot him a loaded glance. “You would have had to get back to your flat to be with Evie.”
She turned her back on him and stared out the window. “Were you planning a double whammy, Matt, me and her both on the same night? Does something for your male ego, does it, still being virile enough to take on two women, practically at once?”

“Ashley.” He stood directly behind her. She felt his breath peppering her neck and wondered how she’d react if he tried to touch her, furious that she still wanted him to. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“I don’t need to do anything to myself, Matt,” she said quietly, her tone laced with a combination of bitterness and defeat. “You’ve done a very good job of destroying me all on your own.”

She turned, not caring now if he saw how devastated she was. He looked stricken, but still hadn’t offered her the famous explanation he was trying to convince her existed. An explanation that would, he wanted her to believe, straighten matters out. “It isn’t like that. Trust me, darling.”

“Trust you? Oh yes, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’ve lied to me from beginning to end and I was stupid enough to fall for every word. God, what a fool I’ve been! Sandy warned me how it would be. I should have listened to her. You lied about moving Eve to Reigate, you lied about her never coming up to your flat, you lied about not loving her anymore, but, worst of all, you lied about sleeping with her. When did you plan to tell me about the baby, Matt?” Her anger had been replaced with an overwhelming melancholy. “You know how I feel about children, how desperately I’ve always wanted one of my own. Did you imagine that I’d just pretend it hadn’t happened and carry on as we had been?”