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Authors: Margaret Pargeter

BOOK: Substitute Bride
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Emma didn't think Veronica had ever been scared in her life. If she went Searching for Rick in the night it wouldn't be for that kind of help. She clearly believed Rick didn't sleep with his wife, and Emma's cheeks flushed painfuly when she realised only Rick could have told her.

She was about to speak angrily, and, for once, without discretion, when Rick said cooly, 'There are two rooms at the top of the stairs, Veronica. You and Gail can have those.

Mine is much farther along the corridor.'

'Oh, but. . .'

'They're the only rooms available for guests,' he assured her, 'if you intend staying.'

Instantly, as his voice hardened, Veronica was all charming capitulation. 'Of course, they'll do fine, Rick. Does it matter where we sleep?'

Where we sleep? Veronica's words held a soft insinuation which made Emma flinch unhappily. Yet surely Rick wouldn't attempt to carry on a clandestine relationship with another woman, with his wife in the same house? All the same, even the thought of it disturbed her, making her realise more than ever how desperately she loved him.

'Excuse me,' she stammered, avoiding the narrowed glitter in Rick's dark eyes, 'I'd better go and tell Josephine there'll be two extra for dinner.'

Gail asked quickly, before Emma could move, 'Will your intriguing manager be joining us for dinner, Rick?'

'No! Wel, why not?' Suddenly he appeared to change his mind, as he assessed Emma's taut face. 'If you think he might keep you amused, Gail, I'll send a message.'

After leaving the kitchen, Emma made her way upstairs.

Her footsteps dragged and she felt curiously distraite. One half of her seemed numb, with a kind of fatalistic acceptance of the future, the other half ripped by what she suspected was not yet fuly realised pain. She was relieved, on noticing the dark strain in her eyes in the mirror, that as Rick had to contact his manager she might have an hour to pull herself together.

When she came back from her bath, however, he was lounging on the bed. Immediately he rose to his feet, and crossed over to her.

'Emma,' he muttered, a finger going under her chin, 'I didn't mean things to happen this way. I would have spared you if I could.'

'Not at al,' she whispered stiffly, her eyes huge. 'It realy doesn't matter.'

'Of course it matters!' he returned sharply, his fingers tightening on her fragile jawbone. 'Look, Emma, I know we haven't a lot of time, but we have to talk.'

'I'd—I'd rather not,' she replied, her voice low, her thick lashes fanning her cheeks to hide the ache in her heart which must surely be reflected in her eyes. 'Please, Rick, I don't think I could stand it. I've had just about enough!'

'You have?'

'Yes!' she gasped at the extreme curtness of his tones. 'I just want to be left alone…'

'So you can have an affair with Miles Ray?'

'No!'

'Little liar!' Anger flared in his eyes as he tilted the chin he held, so he could crush her petal-soft mouth under his as he lowered his head. When she kept her lips closed, he rubbed his mouth softly against hers until she opened them, alowing him access. Yet he didn't actualy hurt her, not physicaly.

Strangely she felt it was Rick who was suffering most.

Incredibly he seemed to be trembling against her as he moulded her yielding softness to the hardening contours of his own strong body. He stirred in her a passion which seemed to be affecting him. Suddenly she was consumed by fire, a languorous yet urgent desire to be possessed by him, just once more…

'I'll leave you alone when I'm good and ready,' he growled thickly, 'and not before.'

CHAPTER TEN

As the gong in the hall rang piercingly through the house, Emma gasped and made a frantic effort to free herself.

'If you don't hurry you'll have Veronica searching for you, Rick,' she cried wildly, as his head jerked up.

'And you don't think she should catch me making love to my wife?' he mocked.

'That wasn't your intention.'

'Whatever my intention, in another moment I wouldn't have known what I was doing. Did you know that?' he retorted harshly. 'I believe you did. I also believe you wanted me almost as much as I did you.'

Tears burning the back of her eyes, Emma turned away.

He was a virile, sensual man and had never tried to hide it. It might be a small feather in her cap that she did appear occasionaly to succeed in arousing his passion, but it was his love she wanted most, and apparently Veronica had that.

Without answering, or glancing at him again, Emma swiftly grabbed the first dress she came to and locked herself in the bathroom. Here she completed a hasty toilet and when she came out again, Rick was gone.

When his overseer joined them they were all in the lounge. Larry Turner was young and handsome and it was quite clear that Gail liked him. Emma, feeling her heartbeats settling more evenly, stepped forward to speak to him. He seemed to represent everything that was normal, ordinary and sane, and because she felt oddly grateful there was perhaps more warmth than there should have been in her smile.

Rick, she suspected, had invited him mainly to remove from his shoulders some of the burden of entertaining three young women on his own. But contrary to what was expected of him, Larry Turner seemed to concentrate almost solely on Emma, regardless of the growing disapproval in Rick's icy blue eyes.

Gail, not used to being practicaly ignored by a man who had taken her fancy, grew sulky, and Rick, as if aware of this, kept Emma firmly by his side. She sat by him during dinner and although he had little to say to her he was attentive, seeing to her every need. He even placed his hand over hers, as it lay on the table, playing idly with her fingers as he conversed lightly with the others. This, Emma realised, was to let Larry Turner know she wasn't available, and to help his sister. Knowing this, she mocked her racing pulse and told herself not to be so foolish.

She also felt very nervous when once or twice she encountered Veronica's vindictive stare. She was somehow sure that Veronica was tempted to speak of Miles, but the meal continued without him being mentioned. Veronica, though, must know about Miles and the mysterious appearance of his bracelet in Emma's room, and Emma had an uneasy feeling that the other girl was just biding her time.

After dinner Veronica and Gail demanded music and dancing, and Rick was seemingly wiling enough to indulge them. As Larry hesitated between Gail and herself, Emma murmured a quick excuse and left the room. When she returned to the lounge she saw, with a sigh of relief, that he was dancing with Gail, but it wasn't relief she felt in her heart when she was forced to watch Veronica circling on the polished floor in Rick's arms. Veronica had her arms around his neck and was holding him tightly, while across the empty space between them Rick's eyes met Emma's enigmaticaly.

He didn't ask her to dance, but neither did he dance again, and later, when Larry left and the three girls went upstairs he said he had some work to do in his study before he came to bed.

On the point of returning to her old room, Emma found herself hesitating. Rick had more or less given her permission to do so, but if he was again to spend most of the night in his study she saw no reason to go back to her own room immediately. Not even to herself would she admit that she was reluctant, in spite of everything, that Veronica should discover that Rick and she weren't sleeping together.

Veronica's eyes had been extremely calculating as she had walked upstairs. Perhaps, Emma thought bitterly, both Rick and Veronica expected to find his room empty. Wel, if they did they might be in for a surprise!

While it was easy enough to let a resurgence of pride and defiance persuade her to stay where she was, by the time Emma was undressed and into Rick's bed she was trembling Emma was undressed and into Rick's bed she was trembling so much with nervous reaction she found it impossible to sleep. Knowing she must pretend to be asleep, if he should happen to come upstairs, she listened anxiously for any sound of approaching footsteps. When, at the end of the corridor, she heard a door opening she was so agitated she had slipped out of bed to see who it was almost before she realised what she was doing. Quietly she opened her own door just in time to see Veronica disappearing downstairs.

Agony tearing at her heart, Emma went desolately back to bed. So much for her vague hopes that Rick's increased attentiveness this evening had meant something! He had said he had work to do, but it must all have been pretence. He was simply using work as an excuse to stay downstairs and see Veronica. Damn him and his women! First Blanche, now Veronica. How many more, Emma wondered, before and after and in between?

Her whole being aching with suppressed bitterness and anger, she huddled miserably under the sheets. She wanted to cry, but the hurt went too deep, and hadn't she wept too much already? Dry-eyed, she lay with her eyes closed, as if that would shut out the mental picture she had of Rick in his study with another girl in his arms.

Then, as she lay rigid, not more than a few minutes later Rick came in. When the door opened Emma feared for a second it must be Veronica looking for him, but as he closed the door quietly and crossed to the bed she would have known his footsteps anywhere.

Pausing beside her, he softly spoke her name. When she didn't answer she heard him flinging off his clothes and then the sound of the shower in the bathroom before he returned and got in the other side of the bed. Obviously he had concluded that she was alseep, and although she was sure he must hear the loud thud of her heart, Emma continued to pretend she was.

As Rick made no attempt to speak again or to touch her, after a while she risked a quick peep. He was lying on his back, well away from her, his eyes open, gazing towards the window. His profile was remote in the dim light, but as he didn't turn his head she knew he wasn't aware of her furtive glances.

If Veronica had found him, their meeting must have been extremely brief, too brief for anything to have happened.

Emma sighed with a kind of blissful relief. She longed to have Rick reach out and put his arms around her, but she was suddenly so wonderfuly comforted by his very presence that her other desires didn't seem so urgent any more. There was such intense happiness to be found in the knowledge that he was here with her and not with someone else. Slowly she felt herself relax until, worn out by her emotions and the tensions of a long, tiring day, she was suddenly asleep.

Through the night she dreamt she had snuggled closer and Rick's arms were about her, holding her tightly.

Faintly she heard him soothing her restlessness with tender yet rueful words, as though he shared that same restlessness himself. She seemed to feel his hands quietly caressing her, luling her until her sleep deepened, and for the first time in weeks her mind and slender body were utterly at first time in weeks her mind and slender body were utterly at peace.

It was after nine next morning when she woke to find Rick gently shaking her. 'Wake up, lazybones,' he was saying softly.

'Rick?' her sleepy eyes opened wide with dismay as she struggled to sit up. 'What time is it?'

'For you,' he smiled, 'that doesn't matter. But I have a lot to arrange. I have to go out.'

While she heard this it didn't realy register. She was only conscious that he was here beside her, staring at her enigmaticaly as he sat on the edge of the bed.

'You slept with me—last night?' she whispered, involuntarily.

'Yes.' His hand fell on her bare shoulder as his eyes glinted teasingly. 'I suspected you knew.' Ignoring her resultant confusion, he dropped a swift kiss on her startled lips. 'If you were to ask me nicely, I might even do it again.'

This, seeming too much to assimilate immediately, left her stammering nervously, 'I—I must have slept wel.'

'You did,' he muttered threateningly. 'Better than you might do in future—unless you want me wild with frustration.'

'Rick?' She swalowed, scarcely able to meet the smouldering darkness in his eyes with any equanimity. 'Why are you being like this?'

His eyes narrowed, his face hardening as he rose swiftly to his feet. 'I'll explain later. We'll talk later.' His voice was suddenly terse as he bent down to smooth a hand almost tenderly over her rumpled mass of gleaming hair. 'When we do I want all the time in the world. So first I have to get all my other problems sorted out. If I stop with you now I might never get round to them. Until then, trust me.'

A bewildered cry escaped Emma as she watched him stride through the door, but he didn't turn. What had he meant? How could she be sure she had heard him properly?

Had he realy talked as if he cared for her? Might she not be a fool to take him seriously? Her heart turned over at the possibility of his being in love with her. Her stomach churned even harder when she tried to consider what this could mean.

Or—she puled herself off cloud nine with difficulty—was this merely a ruse to make Veronica jealous? Had they quarreled last night and was Rick just pretending to care for his wife so as to make Veronica jealous? So many questions presented themselves that Emma grew confused, because she didn't know the answers.

Yet, as she climbed out of bed, the glow in her heart refused to be suppressed altogether and a new, tentative optimism swept much of her depression aside. Swiftly she dressed and went downstairs to find the others. The house, however, was empty and she couldn't see anything of Gail or Veronica outside. Josephine shook her head when she went to the kitchen to see if they were there.

'Those girls aren't kitchen birds, little missus. You wouldn't find them chatting up old Jo. No, child, they're still in bed, and I'm letting them sleep.'

'I expect they're tired.' Emma, continuing to feel happy, could have found an excuse for the devil that morning. Softly could have found an excuse for the devil that morning. Softly she smiled and with renewed appetite tackled her breakfast.

She had two cups of coffee and ate several of Josephine's delicious croissants, warm from the oven and dripping with honey. She laughed when the honey trickled over her lips.

She fancied if Rick had been there he might have licked it off.

He might even have carried her back to bed and finished the job off there, although she doubted if he would have been satisfied with only the honey.

Her cheeks colouring delicately, she became aware of Josephine's curious glance. 'Do you know where my—my husband has gone, Josephine?'

'Gone to see Mr Turner, I think.'

As Emma pondered this slowly, wondering why it should make her feel uneasy, Josephine shrugged her magnificent shoulders. 'I hope you don't think I'm not stirring myself plenty today, Mrs Rick, but the boss he says something about there only being you for lunch. Everyone else he's taking back to Barbados.'

Back to Barbados? Emma went cold all over with stunned surprise. So all along Rick must have intended leaving her. He was returning to Barbados alone, leaving her here, possibly until their divorce was through. She was to be a prisoner, condemned to beautiful but solitary confinement.

Her face white, she stumbled to her feet. With a murmured excuse for Josephine, she made for the beach.

It was a glorious morning, the scenery looking so crisp and fresh as to be good enough to eat. Emma, for once, failed to notice, although she was subconsciously aware of the reviving quality of the air as she gulped down great mouthfuls of it. Feeling il, she wandered dejectedly, blindly watching the huge rolers, the gaily coloured birds. She tried not to think of yesterday, when she had gone sailing with Dan and Rick.

If only Rick hadn't made love to her. Or pretended, this morning, his feelings towards her were changing. He must have decided that this was the only way to keep her calm until after he had gone. Yet she couldn't conceive anyone acting so cruely. Eventualy she gave up trying to make sense of it and, her small face bleak with unhappiness, she returned to the house. It was after twelve. Perhaps by now everyone would be gone. Feverishly she hoped so. If not, then she must pretend she didn't care. There was no other way.

She went into the lounge just a few minutes before Rick arrived. Puzzled to find the two girls still there, Emma kept her face blank. It wasn't easy, but she managed. Both Veronica and Gail had drinks in their hands, but while Gail merely looked bored and indifferent, Veronica was obviously agitated.

'Where on earth have you been?' she asked Emma angrily, when she came in alone.

Emma, feeling startled by Veronica's unconcealed anger, wondered in some bewilderment if her absence had something to do with them still being here. Had Rick, with his fondness for watching her squirm, insisted on waiting to say goodbye? 'I've been down on the beach,' she said. 'Have you been looking for me?'

Contemptuously Veronica shook her head. 'Have you seen anything of Rick?' she demanded.

'Not since earlier this morning,' Emma replied stoicaly, thinking it better to keep her sentences short, for fear she broke down—or said something she might regret.

Gail glanced curiously at Veronica's disturbed face.

'Josephine says we're going home, Veronica. Rick left orders that we were to be ready to leave.'

Veronica glared at her. 'You don't have to keep repeating it! I'll be glad to leave, providing Rick's coming too. I hate this damned island anyway.'

'I'm not going anywhere,' Rick's drawling voice came from the doorway, spinning them all around. 'Wherever did you get that idea from, Veronica?'

As Emma stared at him blankly, she heard Veronica exclaim triumphantly, 'You ought to sack that old bag in the kitchen, darling. I knew she was just talking through her hat!'

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