THE FINAL FALSON SAYS I DO (3 page)

‘He wouldn’t be Jackson if he passed up the chance.’

It was a lucky escape, she’d told herself. She might have become seriously attracted to Jackson but fate had saved her.

He’d brought Karen to the wedding as his guest. She was beautiful, Freya had thought enviously. Others had thought so too, because at the reception another man hadn’t been able to take his eyes from her. He’d hovered, annoying Karen, until Jackson had taken a firm grip on him and said something that had made him back off. Freya hadn’t heard the words but she’d seen Jackson’s face, and there had been a look of menace that had stunned her. All the charm had gone from him.

It had been over in a moment. The man had fled and Jackson had reverted to his usual pleasant self. But Freya had never forgotten what she had glimpsed. She knew that if anyone had looked at her like that she would have been terrified.

She’d expected to hear that Jackson was engaged to Karen, but nothing had happened. And why should she care? she wondered. She’d been briefly attracted to him, but rescue had come in time and it was no big deal. They’d settled for a friendship in which they teased, challenged and infuriated each other. What might have been was safely in the past.

There was still a sense of irony that of all men it should be Jackson who had come to her rescue now, taking her into his home, offering her his shoulder to cry on. But irony had always been part of their relationship.

Early in her mother’s marriage she’d joined Amos and Janine at their home in Monte Carlo. A heart attack had left him vulnerable, and Janine had asked her to pay a long visit.

‘He won’t hear of a nurse being there night and day,’ she’d said. ‘But he’ll have to let my daughter visit us, won’t he?’

She’d made the visit reluctantly. Nothing about Amos appealed to her, especially the stories of his several wives and affairs. But Amos had taken a liking to his stepdaughter and begun plotting to marry her to one of his sons. Freya had been far from flattered.

‘Was he mad when he thought of that?’ she’d demanded of her mother. ‘There isn’t one of them I’d ever dream of—ye gods and little fishes!’

As soon as Amos’s health had improved she’d left Monte Carlo, returning to England and her nursing career.

Amos had failed to marry her to Darius, Marcel, Travis or Leonid. That left only Jackson. Their friendship was strong enough for him to ‘reject’ her theatrically, as he’d just done. Since she felt the same there was no problem.

She’d be as mad to marry him as he’d be to marry her. Though there was no denying he was a nice enough guy—at least he was if you overlooked a few things—but he was a bit too set on having his own way. He must get that from Amos, although he’d never admit it. But he had been good to her today.

She pulled on the pyjamas he’d offered her and lay down on the bed, certain that she would be unable to sleep, but the strain of the day caught up with her suddenly and she could do nothing but close her eyes.

* * *

Jackson spent the next couple of hours quietly, so as not to disturb Freya. There was research that needed to be done for his next documentary, but somehow it was hard to imagine himself continuing to work with Dan. Professionally they had both benefited from working together, which made their relationship cordial without being an outright friendship.

He considered calling his father but decided against it. After what he’d learned this afternoon he was afraid he might speak his mind too bluntly. He had things to say to Amos about his behaviour, but he’d rather say them face to face.

The old man’s determination to make Freya his daughter-in-law had been a source of comedy and irritation in equal measure to his five sons. Their amusement had been good-natured, helped by the fact that Freya was no keener on the idea than they were.

If anything it had seemed to put the brothers and Freya off each other. There was no denying that Jackson found her a nice, attractive girl, but he’d never really thought of Freya that way, and nor had his brothers. She’d been Amos’s ‘tool’—an instrument for his bullying. He briefly wondered whether Freya had ever fancied
any
of them.

No way. Unless—

A faint memory came back to him: the evening in the Chinese restaurant. They had laughed and exchanged significant glances as couples did at the start, when their attraction was in the flickering, questioning stage. But the pressure from Amos had begun soon afterwards and he’d backed off, sensing with relief that Freya was doing the same. After that each had known the other was out of bounds.

But if Amos’s clumsiness hadn’t come between them what would have happened? Until now he’d never really wondered.

Quietly he went to the bedroom door and opened it just a crack. From inside he could hear the sound of soft breathing. He opened it a little further, enough to catch a faint glimpse of her lying on the bed.

Freya wasn’t the only woman who’d slept in that bed. It was large enough for two people, and he used it for what he thought of as ‘entertaining’. Many women had lain there, skimpily dressed or undressed. They’d looked at him through half-closed eyes, pretending to sleep while actually studying him, planning their next move.

But Freya’s form was totally concealed by his pyjamas. Her eyes were closed and the faint sounds she made told him that she was sunk in the sleep of exhaustion. She looked like a vulnerable child. He was heart-stricken. And he was floundering, baffled about how to cope. It was a new experience—one that alarmed him.

Quietly he closed the door and went to switch on the television. Almost at once he heard the words ‘Dan Connor’.

The screen was focussed on a film première. There were the stars, walking along the red carpet, and there was a luscious young female clutching the arm of her escort. Dan Connor.

‘
There’s
someone we didn’t expect to see,’ declared the presenter. ‘Dan Connor, television bigshot. He should have got married today, but—hey, Dan, what happened?’

‘Life happened,’ Dan declared, grinning in a way that made Jackson want to commit murder. ‘Apart from that—no comment.’ He leered at the girl on his arm. ‘Shall we go in?’

Jackson clenched his hands, silently calling Dan every name he could think of. He moved quickly to turn the set off, but it was too late. A faint sound made him look to see Freya standing in the doorway.

‘So that’s who she is,’ Freya said quietly.

‘No. Freya, you’re wrong. I’ll swear he’s not in love with her. He must have just grabbed the first girl he met so that he could get his face onto the news. That’s a PR stunt you’re witnessing. You’ve had a lucky escape.’

She smiled at him, calm and seemingly untroubled.

‘You may be right. He replaced me easily, didn’t he? At any rate it’s all over now. As far as I’m concerned Dan never existed. Goodnight.’

She retreated into the bedroom, leaving Jackson wishing he could believe that she was really recovering so easily. But his heart told him she was only putting on a brave face.

Before going to bed he listened outside her door and heard something that made him clench his hands in agony. From inside came the sound of gasping sobs, telling all too clearly of the grief Freya could only release when she was alone.

Unable to endure it, he opened the door, ready to go in, take her in his arms and comfort her. But wisdom held him back. She wouldn’t be glad of his comfort. She would hate it, wanting no curious eyes.

He backed out and closed the door, knowing that he wasn’t wanted.

* * *

Freya awoke early the next morning. Briefly she wondered where she was, then remembered and groaned. Creeping out of the room, she searched for Jackson on the sofa, but it was empty except for a scrap of paper that read,
I’ll be back soon. Don’t go away.

She thought of the hotel, where the family was staying, and knew she should return to them, but the thought made her shudder.

If only Jackson were here. She’d always considered herself a strong person, but suddenly it seemed terrible to be alone.

‘That’s his fault for supporting me so well,’ she muttered wryly. ‘Now I can’t cope without him. All his fault. Oh, where is he?’

It was an hour before he returned and it seemed like for ever.

‘I’ve been to the hotel,’ he said, dumping a large suitcase on the table. ‘I took the wedding dress with me and your mother’s going to pack it away for you. She gave me some clothes to bring you.’

Her wedding dress had been hanging up in the bedroom, which meant he must have crept in and removed it while she was asleep. Then her attention was taken by the clothes she found in the case.

‘Why did you bring this?’ she asked, lifting a glittering cocktail dress.

‘You can wear it tonight, when we go out.’

‘Are we going out?’

‘Yes. I’ll take you back to your hotel at the end of the evening, but before that we need to give Dan a taste of his own medicine. He flaunted himself before the cameras, so you have to do the same. Then everyone will know you don’t give a stuff about him.’

‘Don’t I?’

‘No, you don’t. You mustn’t. I know what I’m doing, Freya. Trust me.’

‘I do,’ she said.

‘But you think I’m giving you orders again, don’t you? Laying down the law, acting like my father?’

‘No, he never takes so much trouble about people’s feelings,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind taking a few orders from you.’

‘What was that? Did I hear you right? My bolshie Freya being meek and mild? I don’t believe it.’

‘I can do meek and mild if there’s a good reason.’ She managed a smile. ‘I can even say,
Yes, sir. No, sir. Three bags full, sir.
’

‘This I have to see,’ he said dramatically. ‘It’ll be a whole new experience.’ Then abruptly he dropped the humorous manner. ‘Don’t worry. I just mean to look after you.’ He took her face between his hands. ‘That’s all that matters now. Please believe me.’

‘I do,’ she said. ‘It’s strange how content I feel to leave everything in your hands. I didn’t know it before, but there’s nobody I trust like you.’

To her surprise Jackson looked uneasy, but she thought she understood. He was more used to her sparring with him than trusting him. But now those days seemed a long way off.

CHAPTER THREE

N
OW
F
REYA
REALLY
discovered Jackson’s flair for taking charge. In the suitcase she found items of make-up and for hair care, evidently packed by her mother.

‘Thank goodness,’ she said. ‘At least I can look my best tonight.’

But he shook his head.

‘Tonight you’re a star,’ he said, ‘and a star doesn’t do those jobs herself. She employs a professional.’

‘You mean a beautician? I don’t know any.’

‘But I do. She’ll arrive this afternoon, to place herself at your service.’ He hesitated before adding, ‘Unless, that is, you have any objections?’

Her lips twitched. ‘Don’t worry. I know the proper answer to that. Yes, sir. No, sir.’

‘You forgot
Three bags full, sir
. But I’ll let you off this time. I’ve got to leave now, but I’ll be back this evening.’

Naomi, the beautician, arrived at three in the afternoon. She listened politely to what Freya had to say, but clearly needed no instructions, having already received them from Jackson.

It was ironic that once Freya would have objected to the way he was directing every step. But now the sadness that consumed her made it hard to think, and it was a relief to leave the decisions to him.

She had to admit that Naomi did a magnificent job, turning her into as great a beauty as she had been as a bride. The elegant dress had a short skirt that showed off her well-shaped legs, and the expert make-up made her look delightful, the lavish hairstyle enhanced her. But when she offered to pay Naomi waved her away.

‘That’s all been taken care of,’ she said.

‘But can’t I give you a tip to thank you?’

‘That’s been taken care of too. Mr Falcon was very insistent.’

‘You mean he told you not to take a penny from me?’

Naomi smiled and shrugged. ‘Mr Falcon is a very generous man.’

She hurried out.

Yes, he is, Freya thought. More than I ever knew.

Jackson was home at six o’clock, nodded approval at the sight of her, then disappeared to don his evening clothes. When he emerged she too nodded her approval.

‘We’ll do each other credit,’ she said.

‘That’s the spirit. We’ll show ’em.’

Downstairs, he loaded her case into his car and headed out onto the road.

‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

He gave her the name of a restaurant, famous for its glamour and luxury and for being a favourite home of major personalities. Within a few minutes they had arrived.

‘Ready?’ he asked as they headed for the entrance.

‘Ready for anything,’ she replied.

‘Then here we go. Smile. They’ll be watching.’

‘Do they know we’re coming?’

‘I have a few friends in the press.’

Sure enough, heads turned as they entered. There were some cheerful waves, which Jackson returned.

A waiter showed them to a table, and the first few moments were taken up with formalities. At last they were alone.

‘Now, let’s get down to business,’ he said.

‘Business?’

‘You see those two over there?’ he asked, nodding in the direction of a table where a young couple were holding hands and gazing rapturously into each other’s eyes.

‘Yes. But we’re not going to do that, are we?’ she asked, aghast.

‘No way. Hell will freeze over before I ask you to give me
that
adoring look. They’re an example of what we mustn’t do. If we act like a couple in love it’ll cause a scandal. People will think you were betraying Dan and that’s why he headed for the hills.’

‘Right. So what
do
we do?’

‘We laugh. Let everyone see how light-hearted you are.’

‘You’ve got this all worked out to the last detail, haven’t you?’

‘Is that a polite way of saying that I’m taking charge too precisely?’

‘No, but you do seem to have a gift for organising. Perhaps nature meant you to be a film director.’

Jackson grinned. ‘You’re not the first person to say that, but the guy who said it first was really mad at me. He was the director of a TV show and I annoyed him by arguing all the time. “Everything’s got to be done the way you say, hasn’t it?” he yelled.’

‘And what did you reply?
I’m glad you’ve realised that
?’

‘You understand me far too well.’

Then the humour died from his face and he took a long breath.

‘I went to see Dan today. There were a few sharp words and now I don’t work for him any more.’

‘Oh, no! Your career—I never meant to harm you.’

‘You haven’t. I was already thinking of leaving. Someone else has been in touch.’

He named a firm, high ranking in the production business.

‘They’ve been dangling offers in front of me for a while. I didn’t accept because I was OK where I was, but that’s over now, so I called the man who runs this other place. He wants to do a series about ancient Egypt—myths, traditions, rituals, pyramids, that sort of thing. Once we’ve settled my contract I’ll go out there to explore. It’s a place that’s always fascinated me.’

‘Yes, it’s got a magical reputation hasn’t it? Tell me more.’

As Jackson talked she did as he’d suggested—smiling, nodding, seeming fascinated. Nobody must guess that inside she felt wretched.

She managed the pretence until Jackson finished by saying, ‘So now we can both consign Dan to the past.’

She had a feeling of being punched in the stomach.

‘Yes, we can, can’t we?’ she said bleakly.

‘But I guess it won’t happen all in a moment.’ He looked intensely at her face. ‘Perhaps I shouldn’t have mentioned him.’

‘No, I’m strong. I can cope.’

‘I don’t think you’re as strong as you like to believe you are.’

‘You’re wrong,’ she said firmly.

‘I hope so. You’ll get over him, Freya. You must.’

‘Yes, I must,’ she whispered, dismayed at hearing her voice crack on the last word. At all costs she must not weep.

Jackson took a gentle hold of her hand.

‘You can’t believe it now, but truly it will happen. The best of your life is still in front of you.’

‘Yes—of course—it’s just—I can’t—’ The tears were there again, refusing to be defeated.

‘Come on,’ Jackson said. ‘Let’s get out of here.’

He summoned the waiter, paid the bill and led her outside. She sat in silence on the journey. The courage and defiance that had carried her through the evening had vanished without warning, and she felt crushed.

When they reached the hotel he said, ‘Shall I call your mother and tell her you’re here?’

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘I don’t want to see anyone.’

‘All right.’ He kept his arm around her shoulders as they went up to her room, and went inside with her.

‘Goodnight,’ she said.

‘Not yet. I don’t like leaving you alone. You’ve been brave, and coped wonderfully, but nobody can be brave for ever.’

‘They can if they have to,’ she said huskily.

‘But you don’t have to. You’ve got a friend who’ll always be there for you.’

‘Don’t,’ she begged. ‘I can manage—truly I can. I just need to—to—’

She tried to fight back the tears but it was hopeless. Grief devastated her.

‘You need to do this,’ Jackson said, taking her in his arms and drawing her close.

At once she gave up the fight for control. The warmth and sweetness of his gesture overcame her resistance and she let her head rest on his shoulder. He was right. While he was here she didn’t need to be brave.

He turned his head, resting his cheek against her hair.

‘Go on,’ he murmured. ‘Let it happen.’

She had no choice but to let it happen. Strong, controlled Freya could do nothing but yield to the despair she’d once managed to hold at bay. She could feel Jackson patting her shoulders as they shook with sobs, and for several minutes they stood quietly, leaning against each other.

She had the sensation of being in another world. It was warm, kindly, safe. She wanted to stay there for ever.

‘Freya—’

His gentle voice made her look up to see his face just above hers, so close that she could feel his breath.

‘Freya—’ he murmured again.

There was something in his voice that she’d never heard before: uncertainty, perhaps even alarm.

‘Freya—’

‘Yes—’

She felt the touch of his lips against hers and drew in a soft breath. Next moment she was pressing against him, not even knowing what she did. Something deep inside her drove her on, telling her this was where she belonged. Without realising what she was doing she slipped her arms about him. She would have tightened them, but he tensed and raised his mouth from hers.

Suddenly tremors went through her body. The world had changed. She didn’t know where she was. She knew only that this wasn’t where she should be.

‘Freya—’

‘Let me go.’

The words were needless. He was already stepping back, putting distance between them.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said harshly. ‘I didn’t mean—’

‘Neither did I,’ she said, in a voice whose harshness matched his own. ‘Please go now.’

‘Freya, my dear—’

‘I’m not your dear. I’m not your anything. Just because Dan dumped me, did you think I was there for the taking?’

‘Of course not. I wasn’t trying to make love to you. I promise that’s one thing I’ll never do. You can count on that. It was meant as comfort.’

‘That’s one kind of comfort I don’t need.’

He seemed about to say something, but then his shoulders sagged as though he realised it was useless and he turned to the door.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s not what you think. Don’t be angry. I only wanted to help you.’

‘Not like that,’ she snapped. ‘Goodbye, Jackson.’

He gave her an uneasy look, then left without another word.

He left her standing alone in the middle of the room, until her legs gave way and she collapsed onto the floor, wrapping her arms about her head, burying her face as though trying to hide from herself.

How could that have happened? How could she have felt that flickering of treacherous desire for Jackson when she was still dead inside from Dan’s betrayal? She’d been so sure that all feeling was over for her, yet in a moment the old attraction for Jackson had come flickering out of the shadows, confusing, threatening.

‘No,’ she muttered. ‘No,
no,
no!
’

She’d run into his arms, grateful for the safety he’d seemed to offer. But there was no safety—only more devastation. The only safety lay in escape. She must get far away from him.

Monte Carlo. Janine and Amos would be leaving soon and she would go with them. Once there, she could retreat into herself and cease to exist as far as Jackson was concerned.

Cease to exist. It had a reassuring sound. And it was the only refuge that would not betray her.

She lay down on the bed and stared into the darkness for the rest of the night. Even darkness was reassuring now.

The next morning Freya went to Janine’s and Amos’s room, glad to find her mother alone. Janine was delighted with her daughter’s decision.

‘You’re coming with us? That’s wonderful. If only we could convince Jackson to come too. He was here an hour ago and Amos was hoping to persuade him, but no luck. Such a pity.’

‘He’s starting a new job,’ Freya said.

‘So he said, but Amos is furious. They’ve had a big row. He’s as stubborn as his father, so it’s stalemate for the moment. But perhaps Jackson will change his mind and join us soon.’

‘No,’ Freya said quietly. ‘I don’t think he will.’

For Jackson to join them was the last thing she wanted. Nothing mattered now but to get a safe distance from him until she could cope with what had happened.

* * *

The next few days passed in a daze: the flight to Monte Carlo, the drive to Amos’s magnificent house overlooking the bay, the feeling of having put trouble behind her at least for the moment.

Jackson stayed in touch, linking up via a video connection every evening, talking cheerfully to them from the screen. At first Freya watched these occasions from the sidelines, out of Jackson’s sight, not joining in the conversations.

But then he noticed her before she could slip away and cried, ‘Hey, there’s my little sister. How’s it going, sis?’

His use of the word ‘sister’ sounded like a message. He was telling her that their old pleasant relationship could be restored. But she doubted that could ever happen.

‘It’s going well,’ she said.

‘Glad to hear it.’

‘Is everything all right with you?’ she asked politely.

‘I’ve never had such a fascinating trip. And, Dad, when I see you I’ve got something to tell you that’ll really make you sit up...’

* * *

At last Jackson arrived at the villa. His greeting to Freya was friendly, without any tense edge. She knew a moment’s resentment that he’d brushed everything aside so easily. Clearly what had happened mattered little to him and he thought it was the same with her. Yet he was right, she realised. Casual indifference was the only thing that would make each other’s presence bearable.

Over a pleasant dinner Jackson told vivid tales.

‘I’ve never regarded myself as a man susceptible to magic,’ he said, ‘but the magic began as soon as I arrived. I was in a hotel that looked out over the desert where the great pyramids are, and I could see one from my widow. I’ll never forget standing there as dawn broke, seeing the pyramid slowly emerge from the darkness. And everywhere I went—the temples, the Valley of the Kings—there was something that would make me stare with amazement.’

‘But what was it you had to tell your father?’ Janine said. ‘We’re dying of curiosity.’

‘All right. Here goes. I had to study the Egyptian gods. There are many of them, with varying degrees of power. One of the most powerful is called Horus.’

‘But why should I be interested in him?’ Amos wanted to know.

‘Because he’s known as the Falcon god. I couldn’t believe it when I first heard that, but in pictures and statues he’s represented as a falcon. Look.’

He reached into a bag and brought out a small statue of a bird with a cap on its head.

‘That’s Horus the Falcon god,’ he said, handing it to Amos.