An Innocent Affair (15 page)

She knew Jonathan; she didn't need any further explanations. ‘What happened to the scene?'

‘I averted it.'

‘When I've got more than your word to go on I might even say thank you.'

Alex ignored the chrome chair and squatted down on his haunches. ‘Tell me, why is not being in love with you such an important pre-requisite to being your agent?'

‘What makes you think that?' She shot him a shocked look.

‘Just something you said,' he said casually.

My first agent, Hugh—our relationship strayed away from the purely professional. Which was fine at first, but he…'

‘Fell in love with you?'

Hope nodded. She'd been shocked when he'd asked her to marry him and move to the East Coast. ‘It got messy.'

‘You didn't love him?'

She raised her sad eyes to his face. ‘He accused me of using him. I think I was, in a way. I was only nineteen and a long way from home. I did rely on him a lot.'

‘Some people might say he took advantage of you.'

‘Oh, no, it wasn't like that. He was my friend. Perhaps he will be again one day.'

Alex's expression seemed to indicate he didn't think much of this idea. ‘Do you defend all your friends?'

‘If the need arises, I hope so.'

‘Hope.' There was urgency in his voice as he fell forward onto his knees. ‘There's something I have to tell—'

Hope was experiencing urgency of her own. ‘I'm going to be ill,' she announced, jumping to her feet. Hand over her mouth, she fled to the bathroom, leaving him watching her with an expression of seething frustration on his face.

When she returned, pale, but feeling slightly less fragile, the room was full of people—at least that was the way it seemed to her. Her dazed eyes located Miranda standing next to Alex. She was wearing transparent baggy harem-style trousers, a beaded purple top that revealed a large portion of her midriff and a scarf wrapped turban-style around her head.

‘Disaster!' she said dramatically, surging forward with her hand still firmly attached to Alex's arm. ‘There was a terrorist bomb in the hotel. Chaos! The noise, dust, sirens. We were all packed off early. I invited everyone back for a bite to eat—but wouldn't you know it? There's no food. I've sent out for some breakfast. Do you want…?'

‘I've already eaten,' Hope said hastily. ‘Was anyone hurt?'

‘Fortunately not, but it really got the adrenaline flowing. I think someone called it the old blitz spirit, whatever that is. And you, how's your adrenaline doing?' She slid a sly look at Alex.

‘I was just congratulating Alex on his engagement.'

The humour died from Miranda's face. ‘Isn't that nice?' Her green eyes were clouded with sympathy. ‘Tell me, Alex, have you ever thought of posing? I've joined this art class and—'

‘Thanks for the offer,' Alex said with admirable composure. ‘But I've a pretty heavy schedule.'

‘Well, if you change your mind.'

‘She means well,' Hope said as Miranda drifted away.

‘I'm flattered.' A steely expression of determination entered his eyes. ‘This isn't what I had in mind, but we really should talk.'

‘Actually, I think I'll go back to my bed before one of this lot bags it. I'm feeling a bit…' She shrugged. ‘I know its self-induced, but…'

‘You don't have to explain. I've been there. I've got a busy week, but…'

‘I expect you're trying to tidy loose ends. Are you going on a honeymoon?' she asked brightly.

‘About that, Hope…'

She hit out at the hand which was extended towards her. ‘Oh, God!' she burst out, her self-control deserting her. ‘Spare me the details!' Aware that her explosion had coincided with a lull in the general conversation, she wanted to sink through the floor. Instead she ran to her bedroom and locked the door.

B
EING
picked up at the airport by Sam Rourke had impressed her fellow models, who weren't aware of the family connection. Several flashbulbs went off as they left the terminal. Supermodels and Hollywood actors always made good copy, and in tandem they were irresistible. Her sister was waiting in the car and she drove swiftly off once the two passengers had got in.

‘Good flight, Hope?'

‘I've known worse.' Hope leaned forward to affectionately press a kiss to her sister's cheek before she belted herself into the back of the car. ‘Well, there's no need to ask if you two had a good time?' Above and beyond her golden tan, Lindy had a definite glow.

The back of her sister's neck went a deep shade of carnation-pink as she drove, but her new husband grinned, unperturbed by the remark.

‘You were cutting it fine, godmother,' Sam remarked. Hope had the impression his light, teasing remark was intended to take the attention off his wife, though she couldn't see why. It would seem Sam was getting incredibly protective.

‘I prefer to call it split-second timing.'

She'd jumped at the unexpected offer of a fashion shoot in Colorado. Being several thousand miles away when Alex was tying the knot with Rebecca seemed like too good an opportunity to miss. ‘I said I wouldn't miss the christening, and here I am. Besides, I promised Mum and Dad I'd spend Christmas at home this year. It's the first time in ages we've all been together. Not that it'll be the same as old times.' She knew that this evolution
was natural—both her sisters were married now—but all the same a hint of wistfulness entered her voice.

‘It'll be better,' Lindy said softly.

The small, intimate smile Hope saw the two exchange brought a lump to her throat. ‘You two are staying on, then?' She felt ashamed of the envy in her heart. If anyone deserved to be happy it was Lindy.

‘Sure,' Sam confirmed. ‘Shall I tell her?' Hope saw his hand tighten on his wife's thigh.

‘Tell me what?'

‘Once I get out of the car it'll be pretty obvious,' Lindy replied drily.

Hope caught her breath. ‘You're pregnant. When…?'

‘Shall we just say a week later and the wedding dress wouldn't have fitted.'

‘You didn't breathe a word,' Hope gasped. ‘You sly pair!'

‘You're supposed to say congratulations,' Sam reminded her.

‘What? Oh, yes—congratulations. It's marvellous. I'm so happy for you both.' It was crazy to feel excluded, surrounded by all this happiness, but all the same… ‘Am I the last to know?' She wasn't about to let the shadow of her self-pity spoil her sister's happiness. ‘As usual,' she responded with mock chagrin as Lindy nodded. ‘Are Mum and Dad excited?' She sat back to listen to Lindy's comical description of their parents' reactions.

Beth Lacey greeted her daughter with a passable imitation of a whirlwind.

‘There's no time to waste, Hope. I've laid your clothes out—the ones you said you wanted. No, you haven't got time for a shower,' she chided as she directed her daughter firmly towards the stairs. ‘Charlie, you can't possibly wear that tie!' Hope heard her mother say as she reached her bedroom.

Other than the smell of fresh paint, and the lack of
worn spots on the carpet, the house looked much the same as ever. Hand on the door handle, she let her eyes pause over-long on the spot where Alex—where she and Alex… She swallowed hard, trying to block out the steamy memories of how they'd made love just there—well, almost.

She shook her head. I've got to stop doing this she told herself firmly, he's someone else's husband now. She'd spent the last two weeks flirting wildly with every eligible male in sight. The therapy hadn't worked, but the press corps had loved the unusual photo opportunities.

Each night in her solitary room she'd cried tears that were in no way cathartic.

‘You look lovely. Doesn't she, Charlie?'

‘Always,' her father agreed loyally.

The tailored single-breasted suit she wore was made of olive-green wool. The Cossack-style fur fabric hat matched the trim around the collar and wrists of the jacket.

‘Have Sam and Lindy already gone?'

‘Don't worry, we're not late,' her mother said soothingly.

‘Woman, you've never been late in your life.'

‘I take it you
did
remember to get petrol?' Beth responded tartly.

Charlie Lacey raised his hand to his brow. ‘Oh, God.' He grinned as the panic spread across his wife's face. ‘Just teasing.'

‘Why, you—!'

‘If you two don't stop squabbling we
will
be late,' Hope reminded them, watching the gentle banter with a smile.

 

A pale wintry sun bathed the ancient stone church in soft light as they walked up the gravelled pathway.

‘Hope! It's perfect now. Jake got back from his travels last night, so we're all here. Oops, watch the baby.' Anna switched her son to the opposite hip and hugged her sister. ‘You're to sit with the other godparents. It's double everything with twins,' she laughed.

‘Did I hear my name? Hello, beautiful.' Hope was enfolded in an enthusiastic embrace.

‘Watch the hat!'

Jake was the sort of person women smiled at. The resemblance between the tall young man and Adam, his uncle, was more striking than ever.

‘Like the beard,' she teased, pointing to the goatee on his chin.'

‘If it makes me look sensitive and interesting, it's working.'

‘Sit down, Jake,' Anna instructed imperiously. ‘You make the place untidy.'

‘Yes, Aunty dear,' came the meek response. ‘Can Hope sit by me?' he begged as he took his seat beside his sister, Kate, and his small twin brothers.

‘No, you'll bore her with your tales of adventure and danger. And it's all wildly exaggerated—he spent most of the time in youth hostels. I hope. You sit here, Hope.'

The smile at Jake's nonsense froze on her lips, but there was no humour in her startled blue eyes. Not even sisterly love or family loyalty would have brought her here if she'd suspected little Joe didn't have a substitute godfather. Alex should be on his honeymoon. What was he doing here?

She'd been standing immobile too long. It wasn't just Anna who was beginning to eye her with concern. He couldn't be here. Hallucination was one possibility that was quickly banished; he was much too substantial and
real
for that.

A baby's strident cry broke her out of her trance.

‘Here, hold this one.'

Hope stiffened as the warm bundle was placed in her arms.

‘Come and sit down before you drop him.'

There was only appeal in the blue eyes that fluttered to Alex's face. ‘That's what I'm afraid of.'

Hope found herself squashed in beside Lindy, who wriggled closer to her husband. ‘Room for one more small one,' she said to Alex.

Hope didn't know which was more distracting, the baby on her lap or the iron thigh jammed up against her. ‘He's not small.'

‘You're no waif yourself, angel.' The arm he'd placed across the back of the wooden pew touched her shoulders lightly. A shiver rippled through her body.

‘It is cold in here, isn't it?' Lindy murmured ingeniously in a soft voice. ‘Isn't he gorgeous?'

For an embarrassing instant Hope imagined that her sister was talking about Alex. She blushed hotly as she swiftly appreciated the absurdity of her error.

Light fingers lifted her hair and brushed the nape of her neck. ‘You feel quite warm to me.' The faint rasp of his fingertips against her skin sent white-hot threads of longing through her trembling body. ‘Young Jake seems a big fan of yours.'

‘Oh, we're joined at the hip,' she snapped. ‘For heaven's sake, Alex, he's a boy. I suppose you think I'm a cradle-snatcher too.' She was tired of him eagerly misinterpreting the most innocent action.

‘He's a lot closer to your age than I am.' Surely there wasn't a hint of dissatisfaction in his voice. Alex? Jealous of Jake? Impossible, she told herself.

The baby in her arms made a gurgling sound and looked up at her trustfully. It was the sort of expression guaranteed to make any female all warm and mushy and Hope was no exception. I'll probably end up an old maid with cats, she thought sadly.

‘Isn't he a cherub?' Lindy sighed, touching the small rounded chin of her nephew.

‘Hold him if you like.'

‘Can I?'

One problem solved. She wasn't a fit person to hold an infant just now. She was displaying all the classic symptoms of shock: shaking, cold sweats, a tendency to tremble and a brain that wouldn't function. Her other problem was larger and much more difficult to dispose of. She decided to wade in, regardless. ‘What are you doing here?'

‘I was asked to be Joe's godfather.'

‘You know what I mean. Why are you wearing fluorescent green socks?' She couldn't let this detail go unmentioned any longer. The flash of colour against the sober hue of his suit was distracting.

‘I told you before, I'm colour-blind. What's your excuse? Why are you so terrified of babies?'

His question distracted her from the main subject. ‘What? Oh, they're so unpredictable, I suppose. And I was always so clumsy as a kid.' She frowned as she recalled her long, ungainly limbs. ‘You can't drop babies. Don't change the subject.'

‘You didn't drop Daphne.'

‘Who's Daphne?' Lindy, who had been unashamedly eavesdropping, leaned across to ask.

Lindy didn't take the hint when Hope frowned at her. ‘Orphan lamb that needed hand-rearing,' she explained in an exasperated voice.

At this point Anna returned to collect her son. ‘The vicar's ready,' she told them.

The babies behaved impeccably throughout the ceremony. Hope made the required responses, all the time overpoweringly conscious of the deep baritone of the man beside her. To be thrown together on this inescap
ably emotional and intimate occasion was death by slow, painful inches. The battle in her beleaguered brain was titanic. He belonged to someone else, so there was no way in the world she could permit herself to respond to the searing attraction she always felt in his company. On the other hand, she didn't have any direct control over the way she felt. She wouldn't have wished this situation on her worst enemy!

‘The vicar and his wife are coming back to the house with Mum and Dad. Alex says he'll take you.'

‘No! No, he won't.' Let them stare. There were limits to what flesh and blood could stand. ‘He'll want to be alone with his wife.' Where was Rebecca? She hadn't seen her yet amongst the press of people.

‘Wife!' Anna turned to Alex with a look of shocked query, but he didn't break his thoughtful silence.

‘Don't fuss, Anna. I feel like walking. It's only half a mile.'

‘Walking!'

‘For God's sake, you sound like a parrot.'

‘You've noticed that too, have you?' Adam came up behind Hope and slipped an arm about her waist. ‘Leave the girl alone, Anna, there's nothing like a brisk walk to clear jet lag.'

 

Jet lag might have cleared, but her other problems weren't resolved by the time she reached the Old Rectory. Try as she might to polish her tarnished scruples, she couldn't get past the number one dilemma: she loved Alex Matheson and she always would.

She stamped her shoes on the flagstones outside the door and tried to detach the stray leaf her heel had speared. The noise that spilled from the house was a warm, friendly sound. Hope had never felt so lonely in her life.

‘Don't bother ringing; the French doors around this way are open.'

She stifled a cry as Alex emerged from the shadows cast by the trunk of an old gnarled tree.

‘You were hiding,' she cried accusingly.

‘I was waiting.' The expression in his eyes made the weakness that had begun in her legs pool in the pit of her belly. ‘I was waiting for you.' She had to strain to catch the soft words.

‘That was kind of you.' Impersonal was hard to achieve, but she didn't do badly—under the circumstances.

‘I'm not a kind man, Hope.'

You said it, she thought bitterly. He wasn't about to make this easier. ‘We'd better go in; it's cold.' She felt his presence behind her as she followed the pathway to the side of the building.

The French doors in question led to the dining room. There was a long table in the centre of the room, spread with white linen cloths and covered with a mouth-watering display of food, a fire blazed in the cast-iron grate, and a large Christmas tree was crammed with tinsel and childish trinkets.

She heard the door close softly behind her. ‘I see Anna's stayed traditional,' she said, admiring the festive tree. ‘This looks lovely, doesn't it? It makes you hungry just looking,' she lied brightly. ‘No.'

Hope's teeth grated with exasperation. ‘I'm trying…' she began. ‘Oh, forget it.' Her shoulders slumped in defeat. ‘You'd better be getting back to Rebecca.'

‘Rebecca isn't here.'

She stared at him in astonishment. ‘Where is she?'

‘I don't know.'

Oh, God, had they had a falling out already? Was it her fault? ‘You can't take that sort of attitude,' she told
him sternly. ‘I'd never have taken you for a defeatist. You've got to fight for what you want.'

‘I intend to.'

The strength of conviction in this flat statement and the hard light of resolve in his eyes made her feel a lot less selfless. ‘Sorry,' she said awkwardly. ‘It's none of my business.'

‘It's you I want,' he declared baldly. ‘That kind of makes it your business.'

The hiss of her shocked inhalation sounded very loud in the room. ‘How dare you say that to me?' Her voice trembled with emotion.