Betrayal (25 page)

Neal squeezed her hand. 'I'll have to get someone else to take you home, darling. I think I ought to go straight to Beckett Lodge with Bishop.'

'Of course, don't worry about me. Poor Rebekah, she's still young enough to need her mother.'

'She hasn't had a proper one for the past seven years. I don't suppose she'll fall apart,' muttered Neal. 'Bishop, ring Mike and get him to bring a car here for Lisa. We'll leave straight away.'

Giving her a brief kiss on the cheek he strode out of the terminal, his face pale beneath its tan. She waited until both men were out of sight before sinking down on a chair, her legs trembling with delayed reaction.

She knew that heart attacks could happen at any time, and that logically it was probably Naomi's long history of alcohol abuse that had brought it about, but it was dreadful to think that she and Neal had spent so many hours making love while his wife was dying alone and probably in agony. She almost felt as if she'd caused the death herself.

'Come on, sunshine! I've been looking everywhere for you.' Looking up into Mike's smiling face she wondered exactly how long she'd been sitting there, feeling sick with guilt.

'I didn't know where to wait. Neal had to rush off.' 'I know. Is that your only case?'

'Neal took all the big ones with him.'

'Probably putting them away in Naomi's cupboards this very minute. Come on, let's get you home.'

'How dare you talk about him like that!' Mike turned to her in amazement. 'You make it sound as though he's already making plans to put me in her place. That's a vile lie. He was stunned by the news; for a moment I thought he was going to pass out.'

'Is that a fact? He should have been on the stage! Come on duchess.'

'Don't you like him?' she demanded once they were on their way. 'He's my employer, not a friend.'

'You're not a very loyal employee.'

Mike glanced in his driving mirror and saw how flushed she was. She looked very beautiful today. Pregnancy was suiting her, and probably she'd had a good time in Paris as well. He liked her and so he took a chance.

'Let's be honest about this. Naomi was a sick, unattractive and aging woman who couldn't be called a wife in any real sense of the word. You're fit, beautiful, young and, even more important, pregnant. Now do you truly believe that Neal Gueras is going to spend very long grieving over being a widower? Not on your life. After all, now he's free to marry you. Who's a lucky girl?'

She reached forward and slammed the partition shut. For the first time she hated Mike. Hated him because he'd made her realise something she hadn't considered with the shock of the announcement: Neal was free. In the past, when he'd become too possessive or dogmatic, she'd been able to remind him that he already had a wife and she was a relatively free agent. Now her safety net had gone.

She realised that she didn't want to marry him. Didn't want to become his wife. She didn't ever want to marry again; Toby had been enough. No, she definitely didn't want to belong to Neal—yet how could she refuse if he asked her to be his wife?

She was pregnant with his child, reliant upon both his emotional and financial support. What possible reason could she give for turning him down? And why did she want to? Why was she afraid of marriage when she'd just spent five glorious days in his company? She didn't know. She only knew that she was.

When they drew up outside the mews cottage she stayed in her seat, not wanting to leave the car. She dreaded hearing how Jessica had been or what everyday disasters had struck in her absence. She only wanted to be left alone.

'Come on, princess, out you get!' Mike's voice was still cheerful as he opened the door.

'I was a duchess back at the airport!' she joked weakly.

'Sure, but you're the quickest social climber I know. In a few short months you've seen off Kay Masters and Naomi Gueras. That's no mean feat when you consider how long they'd both been around. You ought to patent your formula for success and sell it. You'd soon be a millionairess.'

She looked into his bright blue eyes, the intelligence that was usually masked by his smile for once plainly evident. 'I didn't want them out of the way,' she whispered. 'I never wanted this to happen.' 'I know that, but not many people will believe you so you'd better keep your feelings to yourself. Besides, you sound like an innocent victim and that's hardly the case, is it?'

'Isn't it?' All at once she was truly frightened.

He looked at her anxious expression, remembered the child she was carrying and gave a quick laugh. 'Of course not. Why, you're all set for the land of milk and honey from now on. Enjoy it, most girls would! Be seeing you.'

As he drove away she was touched by a fleeting moment of fear that his apparently encouraging remarks did nothing at all to dispel.

Chapter Seventeen

For over a week she stayed alone in the cottage. Jessica's behaviour had deteriorated even further since her absence but she left the nurse to cope as she waited constantly for the phone to ring. Janice brought in all the papers each morning and she read every single item of news about the death. Her own name featured prominently several times as Neal Gueras's 'constant companion' of the past few months, but she didn't mind that. She was looking for something more sinister, some hint that the death hadn't been quite as straightforward as Bishop had made it sound, but there was never any suggestion of foul play.

Finally there was the inquest. That was reported in the Evening Standard the same day, and on the front page there was a photo of a strained, unsmiling Neal arriving at the court room. The evidence was entirely innocuous. The deceased had died of a massive coronary brought on by the strain of a severe asthmatic attack. She'd suffered from an enlarged liver and hardening of the arteries more usually found in far older women. In other words, she'd been a physical wreck and her death would probably have occurred within the next two years in any case. The coroner commiserated with the widower and it was all over.

Late that night, when Jessica and Janice were asleep and Lisa in the living-room reading a book, Neal finally arrived. He'd lost weight and looked tired but once his arms were round her, his exhaustion vanished and despite her protests he began removing her clothes, his hands busy with zips and buttons until she was naked.

Terrified that Janice might waken, Lisa kept silent, realising that in some way Neal needed the comfort of her body. He too was silent. His mouth suckled greedily at her nipples and his hands moved quickly between her thighs as he went through the motions of arousing her, but very soon he was parting her legs and thrusting into her with a groan of pleasure.

Grasping her shoulder in a vice-like grip he thrust forcefully, almost as though he was annoyed at his own lack of control. Very soon his breathing quickened and with a shout that Lisa muffled with her hand he finally climaxed, wrapping his arms round her as he rolled off the sofa and they both fell on to the soft rug on the floor beneath.

For several minutes they lay there, until his breathing slowed and he lifted his head to look at her. 'I'm sorry. I didn't come here intending to hurl myself on you straight away. It was just… It's been difficult staying away this past week. All I could think about was you, and when I saw you again I couldn't wait.'

'It doesn't matter,' she lied, secretly feeling that he'd used her to obliterate the memory of Naomi.

'You're so beautiful,' he murmured, running a hand down the curve of her waist and hips. 'No one would guess you were pregnant.'

'Well, I am. I'd like to get dressed now, I'm a bit chilly.'

She pulled her skirt and silk blouse back on, then went into the kitchen to make coffee. When she returned with the tray, Neal was sitting in one of the armchairs looking as though he'd just come from a board meeting, all trace of passion gone.

'I want you to meet the girls,' he said abruptly.

Lisa swallowed a hot mouthful of coffee and felt it burning its way down her throat and chest. 'Already?'

'We haven't got that long. Our son isn't going to wait forever to be born.'

'Our baby isn't the issue here. We're talking about your daughters. I should think the last thing they want to do is meet their father's pregnant mistress.'

'They'll do exactly as I say.'

'Perhaps they will, but how do you know I'm willing to come?' 'Why on earth not? It's only a matter of time before we're married.'

Lisa stood up and looked directly down into his eyes. 'Neal, you haven't yet asked me to marry you, and even when you do I'm not sure what my answer will be. I don't like your trying to bulldoze me into marriage without having time to think about it. I'm not one of your employees who has to do as you say. I'm free, and sometimes I think I want to stay that way.'

At that moment he could willingly have strangled her. Bishop had done a marvellous job. Naomi was dead and everyone felt sympathy for him because he'd spent so many years with a woman most men would have discarded long ago. Now was the right moment to remarry, and suddenly this slip of a girl was actually suggesting she might not want marriage when he'd had two people murdered just for her, and she was possibly carrying his first legitimate heir!

He forced a smile to his face. 'I'm sorry, you're quite right. As usual I'm handling things all wrong. Come and spend a Sunday with us next month and we'll talk about our future afterwards. How does that sound?'

'Very acceptable.'

'As acceptable as the clothes from Paris?' He couldn't resist the remark but when colour flared in her face he wished he'd kept quiet. 'Keep your bloody clothes, Neal. I never asked you to buy them for me, and I certainly didn't realise they were a form of currency. One commitment for life in exchange for three tailored suits! Is that how it works? If so, keep them. Give them to Oxfam.' 'I didn't mean… '

'I don't want them!' she shouted, forgetting Jessica and the nurse. 'I never want to see them again. Just get rid of them, and here's your charge card too.' She flung her wallet across the room.

He looked down at it and swallowed back his fury. He couldn't understand why the evening was going disastrously wrong. 'Don't be silly, darling.'

'I'm not silly. In fact I'm quite clever. Do you think I don't realise what's happening? Isn't it rather amazing that… ' She stopped. Upstairs, Jessica had begun to cry and all at once she remembered just how dependent on this man she was. The expression on Neal's face made her bite back the accusation.

'Yes?' His voice was terrifyingly gentle.

'I don't know what I was going to say,' she murmured lamely. 'I'm sorry, this has been a difficult time for me too. I've been alone here day after day, worrying about you, wondering how you were coping, and then when you finally arrive you throw yourself on me as though I'm some second-rate hooker before hurling a marriage proposal at me! It's hardly surprising I'm confused!' Then, to her own secret contempt, she deliberately burst into tears.

She knew at once that her strategy had worked. There was an immediate lessening of the tension as Neal started to murmur an apology for his behaviour and reassure her of his love.

He was as relieved as Lisa that the scene was over. For one terrible moment he'd thought she actually suspected him of having Naomi murdered. If that had been the case then she would have been a threat to him, but he realised it was only another example of her highly-strung state. Even her blunt comments about marriage he was able to dismiss as nerves. Everything would work out in the end; he simply had to have more patience.

When he finally left they'd fixed a date for her visit to meet the girls. 'They've got another three weeks to get over things,' was his final comment. 'If they're not ready to meet you by then, they never will be.'

She smiled, waved goodbye, closed the door and then collapsed against it, resting her back on the solid mahogany. Three weeks to get over the death of their mother! she thought incredulously . How could any man be so insensitive? But then again, Naomi had spent most days in her room so perhaps she was being unfair to him. Perhaps the girls weren't mourning their mother as much as she thought. She didn't really know. All she knew was that for one brief moment she'd unwittingly laid bare a side of Neal that she hadn't known existed. Despite his undoubted love for her and the influence he exerted over all she did she began to wonder if she wasn't making another mistake. Next day, despite the lingering frost and cold easterly wind, Lisa left Jessica and Janice and walked briskly to the park. She needed time and fresh air. Time to think and fresh air to clear the nagging headache last night had brought on.

On her second circuit she was forced to stop abruptly as a small, dark-haired boy dashed in front of her, chasing a very large football. He threw his entire body on it and then looked up at Lisa with a wonderful smile. 'My ball!' he explained proudly. 'Papa give me an English football.'

'It's nearly as big as you!' she laughed, charmed by his obvious sweetness and glowing pride in his possession.

'Si, but I grow; the ball will not.' 'That's very true!'

He stood up and began kicking it back on to the grass. 'You play?' he asked at the last moment, his appeal almost wistful.

'I'm no good at football.' Lisa genuinely wished that she was. 'Luciano, come here at once! Leave the lady alone. She isn't interested in you… Why, we meet again, Mrs. Walker!'

Lisa's chest tightened but she tried to look calm as she glanced up at the handsome Italian. He was the last person she wanted to see just when she was persuading herself that marrying Neal was the right thing to do.

'Amazing!' she agreed with a smile. 'This must be your son.' 'Yes. Your daughter is not with you?'

'She's more difficult these days, and I wanted a chance to have a quiet think.'

'Then we will leave you alone.'

Luciano had spotted a playful Labrador puppy and was running off to see if he could pat it. Renato and Lisa stood very close. She could smell the tang of his aftershave. 'There is something worrying you?' he queried softly, taking her cold, ungloved hands in his own.

'I've got to make a decision and I'm not sure what to do. I'm really making a mountain out of a molehill.'

'I don't understand.'

'I'm making it a bigger problem than is necessary.'

He raised one eyebrow and her stomach lurched. She wondered what it would feel like to rest her head against his massive chest and have his arms round her. Would she still feel like trying to break free as she always did with Neal? Or would she feel protected rather than trapped? She thought she might. Presumably it all came down to sexual chemistry, she thought wryly. She couldn't ask for a more patient lover than Neal, so why should she think that with this man she'd be able to relax? It was far more likely that he'd discard her after one attempt. If all she'd heard about him was true, he was sexually so sophisticated that her pathetic performance would send him to sleep!

'To marry or not to marry?' he queried, keeping her right hand in his left as they walked over the grass.

'Yes.'

'You have others beside yourself to consider. Little Jessica; the baby that is so important to your lover. Refusal is a luxury you cannot afford.'

She snatched her hand free. 'How dare you speak to me like that? What the hell do you know about what I can or can't afford? If I don't love him, and I don't, how can I go ahead and marry him? It isn't fair to Neal. He deserves better than that.'

Bellini caught hold of her wrist, his fingers digging into her skin. 'I speak to you like that because no one else will, and because I know it is the truth. I will repeat it once more before we part. After that you can think what you like about me because I shall not attempt to counsel you again. You have to marry him. If you do not, you will die. It is as simple as that. Also, do not feel sorry for him. It is you who deserves better; but life is not always fair and so you must what is the expression—make the best of things?'

'Die?' Her eyes were huge.

'But of course. Did you think he would let you go?'

'You're mad! Of course he'd let me go. What kind of a man do you think he is?'

Bellini gave a slight shrug of his huge shoulders and glanced around for his son. 'I know what kind of a man he is. Obviously you do not. And now we part. I will take Luciano home and you will go back to Neal and tell him how much you want to be his wife. That is the way it must be.'

'He hates Jessica,' she whispered.

'He loves you more. Give him a son, and after that anything you need for Jessica will be yours. If you love your daughter as much as you say, then fight for her. Neal Gueras can afford any treatment she needs. Remember that when you hesitate.'

'He isn't the only wealthy man in the world!'

'He is the father of your unborn child. I cannot think of any other wealthy man who would take his child as well as Jessica, can you?'

She shook her head. He was right. Also, her life would be comfortable and well cushioned so she was actually doubly fortunate. Except that she didn't love Neal; didn't feel any overwhelming desire to touch and be touched when she was with him. She hadn't minded that until she met this man with his devastating eyes, flexible mouth and the chiseled perfection of face common to Italian aristocrats. But now she had, it was hard to put all chance of any such relationship with a man behind her forever.

Finally she looked at him, her eyes full of unshed tears. 'No, I can't. But there's nothing to say I can't cope on my own.'

'He can help Jessica.'

'No one can help Jessica.' 'You do not know that.'

'I suppose not.'

He stopped walking and his fingers closed caressingly round her wrist. 'You are already lovers, he must be able to make you happy in that way. Why do you hang back?' The words were almost spat out through clenched teeth and suddenly there was anger in his eyes. Lisa went hot all over and stepped back so quickly that she tripped. Bellini put out an arm and pulled her against him, staring down at her flushed face.

For a moment they stayed quite still, their bodies just touching. She imagined she could feel his heat through her clothes. Abruptly he released her, his breathing ragged. 'I can understand why he would risk so much to possess you,' he said at last. 'I only wish that we had met sooner. Perhaps you will invite me to your wedding?' Then he raised her hand to his mouth, brushed it lightly with his lips and strode swiftly away across the grass. Never before had she felt so lonely.

When she got home she rang the number Dr Weissler had given her and began making enquiries about the holding technique for autistic children, and how much time and money was involved. When she finally replaced the receiver she knew that Bellini was right. If her visit to Berkshire went well, she would accept Neal's proposal, provided he accepted her conditions for Jessica's future.