A Husband of Convenience Page 6

  ‘Sit there and listen, child,’ he commanded.

  ‘I am not a child,’ she denied angrily.

  ‘Then stop behaving like one,’ Conan growled. Then he proceeded to treat her to a tirade, the ferociousness of which she would never have believed he was capable of. Too stunned to move or respond, she watched him pace back and forth in front of her like some wild jungle beast in search of prey. He called her every idiot under the sun and then some, without stopping for breath. His jacket and tie had been discarded long since and, mesmerised, she thought how magnificent he looked. His white silk shirt hung half open, revealing his broad tanned chest, matted with curls that arrowed down out of sight, and his grey pleated trousers tantalisingly traced the hard contours of his thighs. He exuded an aura of powerful male sexuality that was frightening but fascinating in its intensity.

  For weeks Josie had convinced herself that Conan was satisfied with their pleasantly polite relationship, upholding their original agreement to the letter. But now she was not so sure, as she realised how utterly ruthless he could be when roused. She tensed angrily under the lash of his tongue, but inexplicably her anger drained away to be replaced by a different passion. Her pulse rate accelerated as her eyes slid over the whole length of him to rest on his custom-made leather shoes. She was too afraid to look up as wryly she acknowledged her fear was based more on her own reaction to his vibrant brand of sexuality than the words he roared at her. She needed to get away, and quick...

  ‘And look at me when I am talking to you!’ he commanded furiously. Stopping directly in front of her, and leaning over her, he placed a huge hand on either arm of the chair, effectively blocking her escape.

  Warily Josie raised her eyes to his, struck by the banked-down fury in his gaze.

  ‘That’s better,’ he intoned with a silky softness that frightened her more than his shouting had done. ‘Now, little girl, I think it’s time you and I got a few things straight. You’re not in the Cotswolds now, but in the heart of a big city, and for starters you will never go out or stay out late without informing Jeffrey or myself where you are. Is that understood?’ he demanded forcefully.

  Josie’s eyes clung to his handsome face, incapable of breaking the contact, trapped by the power of his personality as much as his large body towering over her. She sank deeper into the seat. His closeness was having a strange effect on her. She swallowed hard, and deep down inside her an unfamiliar ache unfurled. An ache to feel the strength of his arms around her, his hard mouth on hers, and how had she never noticed before the thick, curling dark lashes that shielded his glittering eyes?

  ‘Do you understand me, Josie?’ he reiterated.

  She jumped. ‘Yes, yes, I understand.’

  ‘You’re sure?’ His dark eyes gleamed golden as he held her gaze, and for a long, tense moment they simply stared at each other.

  ‘We struck a bargain, you and I,’ Conan drawled with ruthless inflexibility. ‘A name, and a father for your child.’ His eyes did not leave hers for a second. ‘In return I eventually get what I want But I will not put up with your callous disregard for the concern of Jeffrey, or myself, towards you and the baby. Understood?’

  ‘Yes. I know, I’m not a fool, I can hear you,’ she said curtly. ‘Probably half the street can hear you. No going out without telling you. Oh, jailer!’ she ended defiantly.

  His eyes flared angrily. ‘If I was your jailer, do you really think I would have allowed you to run around London on your own?’

  ‘No.’ Josie knew she was being unfair, and suddenly feeling very tired, and in no mood to argue, she added, ‘And I will apologise to Jeffrey in the morning. I never thought he would stay behind.’

  As if sensing her exhaustion, Conan straightened up and, taking a deep breath, expelled it slowly. ‘And I’m sorry for shouting at you, Josie, but you have no idea how worried I was to arrive home at six and find you hadn’t yet arrived. I couldn’t imagine what had happened to you, and poor Jeffrey was worried sick. He refused to leave until you returned. Promise you will never, ever give me a shock like that again?’

  At his words Josie felt the beginnings of a strange warmth building inside her. Conan had been worried about her. Why the thought should please her she did not question; she only knew it did.

  ‘I didn’t mean to worry you, Conan, but I had nothing to wear for tomorrow night. I had to buy a dress.’

  ‘Ah, the age-old female cry: “I have nothing to wear!” I should have guessed,’ he drawled, a very masculine grin lighting his dark face. ‘The very least you can do is go and put it on and let me see why my dinner has been delayed for so long.’ Reaching down, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. ‘But make it snappy, hmm?’

  Josie picked up her parcels from the hall and shot upstairs. Shedding her clothes, she speedily unwrapped her new dress, and slipped it over her head. Tiny shoe-string straps supported the bodice that skimmed the soft curves of her breasts; empire-style, the skirt fell from beneath her breasts, skimming her hips to end in soft folds at her feet. Coloured from the palest pink through lavender to the deepest blue, it enhanced her pale complexion, emphasising the violet of her eyes.

  She sighed, if only she were taller. And, hastily finding her only pair of four-inch-heeled sandals she slipped them on.

  Conan was in the hall as she glided down the staircase. She must have made some sound, because he turned and stared up at her. His dark eyes narrowed intently on her delicate frame. She stopped a few steps from the bottom, paralysed by the intensity of his gaze as silently his eyes swept slowly over her, in a slow, sexy scrutiny that brought colour to her cheeks.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’ she asked, her glance colliding with his, her colour increasing at the sensuous gleam in his eyes. What was happening to her? She had thought after her disastrous affair with Charles that she was probably frigid. But the longer she spent with Conan, the more she doubted herself. Tonight she was achingly aware of him. Swiftly she lowered her lashes, terrified he would recognise how he was affecting her.

  ‘You look beautiful, Josie,’ he drawled throatily. ‘Absolutely perfect.’

  She took the next few steps in a hurry, flustered by his compliment. She felt her ankle turn. ‘Damn these heels,’ she muttered darkly.

  ‘Careful,’ Conan husked, folding her in his arms to steady her. ‘Should you be wearing high heels in your condition? ’ he asked.

  ‘Probably not,’ she admitted ruefully, slipping her feet out of the sandals, her small hands clasping his broad shoulders to steady herself. ‘But I’m vain.’ She lifted laughing eyes to his face, and that was her mistake.

  Conan’s head bent, his lips brushing softly over her mouth in a gentle kiss, and the warmth of his mouth ignited an immediate response in her firm young body. The tension she’d felt when he’d held her before had mysteriously vanished. Instead she relaxed against him, her fingers sliding along his broad shoulders to lace through the thick black hair of his head, her lips parting invitingly under his. Then she was clinging to him, every part of her moulded against his large body. Her heart pounded in her breast as his tongue expertly searched the moist dark interior of her mouth, colliding and sliding with hers in wickedly seductive passion.

  The blood roared in her head, blanking out all thought of resistance. The fierce pressure of his strong arms around her slender body was a delightful pain. Gradually he broke the kiss, his almost black eyes burning down into hers. Then, slowly, teasingly, he moved his hips against her, making her vitally aware of his own state of arousal in the process. But still he held her, which was just as well from Josie’s point of view; she doubted she could have stood by herself.

  She should have been frightened, but for some reason she wasn’t. Her legs felt like rubber and she was incapable of speech. She stared mutely up at him, her violet eyes unknowingly inviting him to continue, and he did. His mouth once again found hers, and eagerly she gave in to the wonder of his kiss yet again.

  ‘Well, Josie, that was n
ice,’ he opined softly, lifting her hands from his shoulders and easing her away from him. ‘But I think you’d better run along and get changed or I might be tempted to forget all about dinner.’ He chuckled.

  Conan’s soft laugh broke through her dazed senses. Dinner-Jeffrey-reality intruded like a douche of cold water. Picking up her sandals, she fled upstairs, as if all the hounds in hell were after her, and Conan’s mocking laughter ringing in her ears did not help.

  ‘That was nice,’ Conan had said. Nice? It was incredible. Josie had never thought a couple of kisses could arouse such a tumult of emotions. To her it had been earth-shattering, and she was mortified at her own reaction. But by the time she had changed her dress for a simple black sweater and plaid skirt she had almost convinced herself it had been an apparition on her part—maybe just her raging hormones caused by her pregnancy. Although her innate honesty forced her to admit she had been battling her attraction to Conan ever since the night of the party. As for her pregnancy, it had been remarkably trouble-free so far—no sickness, nothing except an expanding waistline.

  Walking back downstairs, she headed for the kitchen. To her surprise Conan was setting the pine scrubbed table with dishes and cutlery. He looked up as she closed the door behind her.

  ‘Good; that was quick. I was thinking of starting without you—I’m starving.’ Turning to the cooker, he said over his shoulder, ‘Jeffrey has left my favourite—a steak and ale casserole with dumplings. Sit down and we’ll eat.’

  Pulling up a chair, Josie did as she was told. If she had imagined the kiss would change anything between them, his prosaic statement had quickly disillusioned her. She watched him through her lowered lashes as he bent over the oven, his firmly moulded buttocks and long legs beautifully defined by the taut fabric of his trousers. She grew hot with embarrassment as she realised where her thoughts were leading, and hastily looked away.

  She had not known it was possible to be so sexually aware of a man. Her palms were damp and she had to fight to control her erratic heartbeat. She grimaced; it was plain to see that Conan didn’t have the same problem as he turned around and placed a large casserole dish in the middle of the table.

  ‘You must be hungry after the busy day you’ve had. I know I am.’ Flashing her a quick grin, he served himself a huge helping of stew and started to eat.

  Josie was surprised to discover that despite her turbulent emotions she was incredibly hungry. By the time she had devoured a healthy portion of dinner, and Conan asked her if she wanted more coffee, she had managed to suppress her wayward emotions altogether. ‘No, thanks, this is enough for me,’ she said, and she even managed a cool smile.

  ‘You’re getting over your grief, I think,’ Conan said softly into the silence.

  ‘Oh, yes.’ Fed and relaxed, she had never felt better. ‘Yes, indeed.’ She smiled at him, then immediately felt horribly guilty. She should not have agreed so readily; after all, it was Conan’s half-brother who had died. In an attempt to justify herself she continued, ‘I didn’t know...well, I mean...I didn’t go out with Charles for very long...’ She trailed off; she was only making it worse. She caught the glint of anger in his dark eyes, and wished she had never tried to explain. But surprisingly Conan smiled.

  ‘Don’t worry; there’s no need to feel guilty, Josie.’

  She felt the colour rise in her cheeks, and could not meet his eyes. Dear heaven! How could he read her mind so easily? she wondered.

  ‘I knew Charles a lot better than you. And he wouldn’t have wanted you to grieve for ever.’ Levering himself out of the chair, he crossed to her side. ‘You’re tired,’ he said, and reaching for her hand, he pulled her to her feet.

  Josie swayed slightly; it had been a long day. ‘Yes, I am.’ She yawned.

  Conan steadied her with an arm around her shoulders and led her to the door. ‘It’s bedtime for you, my girl.’ He pressed a swift kiss on her softly parted lips, his dark eyes smiling down into hers.

  With the taste of him on her lips, her bemused gaze clung to his and for the first time since their marriage she allowed herself to think that maybe it would not be such a bad idea if their convenient arrangement matured into a sexual relationship. Conan had kissed her and obviously cared about her; his reaction when she was late surely proved as much. Maybe she was not as frigid as she thought—around Conan she was anything but cold. Involuntarily she raised her fingers to her lips, as though to capture his last kiss.

  ‘Bed, Josie,’ he reminded her, chuckling at her reaction.

  She dashed upstairs and her last thought before sleep claimed her was, If only she was his girl...

  The following morning, there was a spring in her step and a sparkle in her eyes that she was totally unaware of. When Conan walked into the kitchen she had already made the coffee and was about to start cooking ham and eggs. She flashed him a brilliant smile. ‘Good morning.’

  ‘Is it?’ he demanded and, crossing over to the stove, he took the pan she was holding out of her hand, put it down on the bench, slipped his arms around her waist and turned her into the circle of his arms.

  His dark eyes glinted golden in the early morning light as he searched her upturned face with slow deliberation, his gaze lingering on the lush bow of her mouth. She breathed the clean male scent of him, felt the enveloping warmth of his large body. Then his head descended very slowly, giving her all the time in the world to stop him if she wanted to. Instead she shivered as his lips sought hers, the pulse beating rapidly in the side of her neck. A low moan escaped her and he raised his head, his mouth swallowing her groan.

  Her heart leapt in her breast as his teeth gently nipped her bottom lip, his tongue erotically stroking hers. Her body softened and arched slightly in his embrace and her breasts felt swollen and aching in contact with his broad chest. When he gently released her she was sure he must be aware of the startling effect he had on her. But he did not show it.

  ‘You’re right. It is a good morning, Josie—the best ever.’ His eyes, glinting with masculine satisfaction, held her own. ‘But don’t bother cooking for me; I’ll just have coffee. I want to save myself for tonight.’

  Was he dieting? Or was it some other appetite he was alluding to? Bemused, she poured his coffee in a daze, and watched him drink it and leave. Long after he had gone her lips still tingled from his brief parting kiss...

  Jeffrey’s arrival broke through her daydreaming, and together they began preparing for the evening’s dinner party. Between them they had decided on a menu of fresh vegetable soup, followed by beef Wellington with all the trimmings and a Grand Marnier soufflé for dessert. Suddenly Josie was really looking forward to meeting some of Conan’s friends and she wanted everything to be perfect.

  By midday everything was prepared that could be prepared in advance. Satisfied with her morning’s work, Josie ran lightly upstairs to the master bedroom, sighing contentedly. She loved the room; an imp of mischief had her adding to herself that all it needed was for Conan to share the huge bed with her instead of sleeping in the dressing room. Blushing at her wayward thoughts, she bent down to pick up the sandals she had dropped on the floor last night.

  Then disaster struck. One of the straps was broken. ‘Damn’, she muttered, turning the offending sandal over in her hand. They were the only shoes she possessed that were suitable to wear with an evening gown. Glancing at the bedside clock, she groaned out loud. If she hurried perhaps she would have time to go and buy a new pair.

  Quickly slipping into the blue suit she had worn for her wedding, she ran downstairs. Jeffrey was standing in the hall replacing the telephone receiver, but before she could speak he solved the problem for her.

  ‘That was Mr Zarcourt. He left some papers he needs today in the study so I’m going to drop them off at his office.’

  ‘Oh, good, I’ll go with you, and we can make a detour, because I need some new shoes.’ She grinned. ‘You don’t mind, do you, Jeffrey?’

  ‘Well, no—as long as you’re quick,’ h
e responded gruffly but Josie knew he didn’t mind.

  The taxi drew to a halt outside an impressive-looking building in the heart of the city on Moorgate. Josie looked around with interest; she had never been to Conan’s bank before. Clutching her purse, she was about to follow Jeffrey out of the taxi, when a man on the opposite side of the road caught her eye. She sank back into the seat.

  It was Conan, not ten yards away. She saw his strong profile, his thick black hair gleaming in the December sunlight, and as she watched she saw the blonde run up to him and fling her arms around him. She saw them kiss. Josie even thought she heard the sound of his laughter as he stepped back and tucked the woman’s hand through his arm. And walked away.

  ‘I won’t be long,’ Jeffrey told her.

  ‘Okay.’ Josie’s gaze was fixed on the couple strolling down the street. Conan was tall, but his companion was almost as big. A very beautiful blonde, she was all long legs, mini-skirt, and lush curves. Was that the kind of woman Conan liked?

  Josie watched until they disappeared from sight, her whole body clenched in pain. She laid her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, but nothing could shut out the image of Conan and the woman She felt as though her heart had been split in two, her hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms as she forced herself to breathe slowly and deeply, fighting down the tears she ached to cry.

  ‘Are you all right, miss?’

  The cab driver’s voice broke into her anguished thoughts. ‘Yes, yes, I’m fine,’ she said, slowly opening her eyes. She was aware of the worried look on the driver’s face. ‘A touch of indigestion,’ she murmured. The lie worked; with a nod, the man turned back to the front.

  How stupid she had been, how blind. Of course a handsome, successful man like Conan would have a woman; he was not the type to be celibate. She had realised as much the day he had proposed marriage and she’d asked him about his women. So, now that she knew he had a lady friend, why was it causing her so much pain?