Margaret Mayo – Bedded At His Convenience (страница 2)

In the headiness of new-found love she had forgotten all about her promise to herself never to get married, never to trust the opposite sex. This was the man for her; of that she had been very sure. He would never let her down the way her father had her mother. And she had got swept along by the excitement of the occasion.

It had been the talk of the office. Love at first sight and a whirlwind affair. The other girls had been green with envy, but most of the men had been relieved because, as they’d jokingly said, they no longer needed to keep an eye on their girlfriends or wives.

‘So what is it that has caused you to fade away like a wispy cloud?’

Hunter’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she was grateful because she didn’t want to think about what might have been. It had been a fairytale love affair, a fairytale wedding, and then poof! Gone! Exploded like a firework. Nothing left except memories.

‘I doubt you’d be interested,’ she said, deliberately keeping her chin high and her tone cool.

‘Believe me, I would.’ His head was bent towards her, his voice a low rumble in his throat.

His voice had urged her on so many times into the most wonderful and magical love sessions. It was deep and sexy; he had mastered the art of turning bones into jelly and blood into water. His voice had made her his prisoner. When he’d spoken to her like that she would have done anything for him.

Even now she could feel the fine threads of his web closing around her.

‘I owe you nothing,’ she said firmly. ‘And I’d really like you to go away and leave me to enjoy myself.’

Hunter had no intention of leaving Keisha’s side. When he’d seen her enter the room he had been unable to believe his eyes. Her disappearing act had been so final that he had thought never to see her again.

Three years ago he’d been captivated by her youthful innocence, by her lovely heart-shaped face and her infinitely kissable lips. He had been unable to get her out of his mind, and when she’d accepted his proposal he’d been the happiest man alive.

It hadn’t occurred to him that she wasn’t yet ready to be bound by the confines of marriage. That jealousy and insecurity would be their downfall. All he’d known was that he loved her and wanted her by his side for the rest of his life.

At his insistence Keisha had given up her job and moved into his apartment in the City. A few months later they’d moved into a beautiful house in Surrey, and he’d been happier than he’d ever been in his life. So when, just after their first wedding anniversary, Keisha had walked out on him, he’d been gutted.

He’d known she wasn’t happy with the long hours he worked. Maybe it had been wrong to insist that she give up her job—but how could he have kept his attention on his work with his beautiful, sexy wife within arm’s reach?

When she’d complained that she had nothing to do, when she’d declared that there were only so many times she could visit her mother or trail around the shops, he had suggested she find herself a hobby.

What he hadn’t expected was for her to join a gym, and it had worried him when he overheard her on the phone to her friend Gillian, saying how sexy the men there were. And more especially when she’d mentioned one man in particular. But when he’d questioned her she had declared that he was no more than a friend. That he was in fact happily married.

‘Why don’t you join too, then you can meet him?’ she’d suggested. ‘His name’s Marc Collins. He’s actually a friend of someone I went to school with.’

But he had declined the offer, accepting that if she was prepared for them to meet then he had nothing to worry about.

Conversely, he had known that Keisha harboured ideas that he was seeing another woman—they’d had enough arguments about it. But he’d thought she’d accepted that there was no one else.

How wrong he had been!

He had returned home one evening at about a quarter to midnight, after working solidly on a new advertising campaign, and she had dropped her bombshell. She had told him that she was leaving. And her eyes had been so cold and distant that he’d found it hard to believe she was the same girl who had been so passionately in love with him.

He had looked at her in total disbelief. ‘Keisha, tell me you’re joking.’

But she hadn’t been. They’d talked long into the night and he’d used all his powers of persuasion before he had finally made her promise that she would stay. That night they’d had the best sex ever—their love life had always been amazing, but that had been something different. It had felt as though they were renewing their vows, and he’d gone to work the next day feeling ten feet tall, fully confident that they had resolved their differences.

But that evening when he’d got home she’d gone.

He’d phoned her mother. He’d phoned everyone who might know where she was. Without result. At first he’d been worried, and he’d thought about calling the police. Until he’d realised that she couldn’t exactly be classed as a missing person. She’d walked out because she wasn’t happy.

She had fooled him into feeling safe.

Gradually his concern had turned to anger. How could she do this to him? Why? He had thought their love was indestructible.

Then he’d found out that it had nothing to do with the long hours he kept, or her delusions about other women. She’d used that as an excuse. She was the one who’d been having an adulterous affair. She’d said that her male friend was just that—a friend, a married friend—and he’d believed her. But he’d spotted her out on the street with her arms locked around his neck—at least he’d presumed it was the same guy. Even if it wasn’t, she’d clearly been infatuated with whoever it was.

She had been blatantly kissing him! In broad daylight!

Blood had fizzed in front of his eyes; he’d felt both revulsion and humiliation. She’d lied to him. His fury had known no bounds. He’d wanted to march up to her and wring her neck. And he’d wanted to knock the living daylights out of the guy embracing her. But he hadn’t. What would have been the point in causing a scene when their marriage was over? He had more dignity than that.

Instead he had watched as they’d walked off, hand in hand.

It was the hardest thing he’d ever done. Hurt had sliced into his heart as fiercely as if she’d stabbed him with a knife. And with hurt had come guilt. Maybe it was his fault? Maybe if he’d spent more time with her she wouldn’t have gone off with someone else? She wouldn’t have felt the need for male company.

There had been so many maybes and so much heartache that his head had spun. For days he’d done nothing but blame himself, until finally he’d grown convinced that it was not all his fault. It took two to break up a marriage. Keisha was as much to blame as he was. She had lied about her platonic relationship. She had accused him of two-timing her. And yet she had been doing exactly the same thing.

He had wondered how long her affair had been going on. He’d tried to pinpoint the time their marriage had started to go downhill. It certainly hadn’t been smooth going. They’d had many arguments about his long hours, and she’d become totally convinced he was seeing another woman. He’d tried to convince her that she was wrong, but clearly he’d failed. Perhaps she’d thought that what was good enough for the goose was good enough for the gander?

Except that he’d never cheated on her. Which made her defection doubly hard to bear.

Somehow he’d picked up the pieces of his life; working harder than ever, trying to forget her, not even letting her petition for a quick divorce disturb him. And he’d thought he had succeeded.

But now, seeing her again, feeling her betrayal all over again, he knew that somehow—he didn’t know how yet—he wanted to hurt her as she had hurt him. He didn’t love her any more—how could he when she’d turned to another man? But he was determined that she would get her comeuppance. One way or another!

‘I have no intention of going away, Keisha,’ he said on a rough growl, trying to hide the anger that was building up inside him. ‘As a matter of fact I’d like to dance with you.’ The band had struck up and was playing a slow waltz, and without giving her time to refuse Hunter took her hand and pulled her on to the tiny square of polished floor.

At first, as fierce memories lingered, he held her more tightly than perhaps he should have done. But gradually he relaxed, and so did Keisha, and as they swayed to the music, as he deliberately talked about anything except themselves, he discovered that she wasn’t entirely immune to him. Deep down inside something was still there.

Not love; he doubted now whether she ever had loved him. Probably the glamour of marrying the boss had seduced her. But there was definitely something physical happening—it had been a big part of their relationship, a massive part.

And it could work to his advantage!

Keisha was disappointed with the way her body was behaving. How could she feel anything for Hunter after all this time? It didn’t make sense. When the music stopped she headed swiftly away from him.