Forgotten Husband (9 page)

His expression was resolute, and his voice held infinite mockery. 'You have managed admirably for the past seven months.'

'Six,'
she flung back angrily, incensed by his imperturbability. 'I cannot be held responsible for the past one and a half.'

He lifted a hand and brushed light fingers along the edge of her jaw. 'Relieved of the barriers of your animosity for a few short weeks,' he said, 'there was no reason to generate hatred for your Spanish esposo.’

She closed her eyes, then slowly opened them again. 'There wasn't meant to be a child!' It was a cry front the heart.

His voice gentled as he caught hold of her chin and tilled it towards him. 'Nevertheless, there is its unexpected existence is something I refuse to consider as anything other than a very special gift.' His thumb lightly caressed the lower edge of her lip. For several weeks we were able to dispense with any hostility.' His eyes darkened measurably. 'Friends, as well as lovers.'

Her eyes glittered with anger, sheer emerald flecked with gold. 'We can never be friends!'

A smile tinged with wry mockery tugged the edges of fan mouth. 'Perhaps at this moment you do not believe so. 'Dark eyes gleamed with cynical humour. 'Why don't you get into bed?'

Her pulse tripped its beat and measurably quickened---as a result of anger, she assured herself, not passion. 'I don't want to go to bed, and I especially don't want to share a bed with you.'

'We share, Elise,' he insisted in a dangerously soft voice, 'as we have done from the beginning.'

His threat wasn't an idle one, and she looked at him in silent mutiny for several long seconds. 'If you touch me, so help me, I'll hit you,' she vouched with low-pitched vehemence, and, turning away from him, she caught up her nightgown and crossed into the bathroom to remove her make-up.

Her fingers shook so badly that the cream got into her eyes, and she dabbed frantically at it before sluicing her face.

Alejandro was in bed when she emerged, stretched out, his arms crossed behind his head. Elise eyed him warily as she slipped in beneath the covers and closed her eyes. Seconds later she heard the snap of the bedside lamp as the room was plunged into darkness.

Slowly her lashes swept upwards, and for a long time she stated sightlessly ahead, discerning shadows and a thin strip of moonlight threading between the curtains as her eyes adjusted to the grey light of night.

She was acutely aware of every sound, her own breathing, his, and she knew the moment when Alejandro's steadied and assumed a deep rhythmic beat.

Tomorrow, she promised as her eyelids became heavy and began to flutter down. Tomorrow she ' would launch an attack about the depth of his in-volvement with the glamorous Savannah.

Elise woke late to discover that Alejandro had already left for the city. His absence provided an anticlimax, for there was a fine edge to her inner rage that longed for the satisfaction of a full-scale confrontation.

'Alejandro asked me to tell you that you are both to attend a formal dinner to aid charity this evening,' Ana conveyed as Elise sat down to a solitary breakfast.

The Santanas Corporation was a well-known benefactor, and Alejandro lent his personal patronage to selected organisations. Elise had attended several such dinners in the past, and her heart sank at the thought of mingling with Alejandro's sophisticated coterie of acquaintances.

Without doubt Savannah would be present, and Elise hated being an object of conjecture as certain guests speculated on the latest developments between the Santanas scion, his wife, and the glamorous model who had been his constant companion for years before his sudden marriage to a virtual unknown with no social background.

Elise entertained no doubt that Alejandro's absence from the social scene for the past six weeks had been duly noted and commented upon, details regarding her accident embellished and explicated.

It seemed coincidental that she was to have the bandages removed from her hand today. After this afternoon, physiotherapy would be reduced to weekly instead of daily sessions. Soon the only evidence would be a thin scar on her hand.

The thought of regaining her independence was a heady one. After today, she would be able to drive again. There were a few friends she needed to contact.
Siobhan.
Realisation suddenly hit her that her dearest friend might be anxious not to have heard from her at all in the past six weeks.

As it was, she had no idea whether Siobhan was still working days at the Royal Children's Hospital, or if she had crossed over to night duty. If it was nights, the answering machine would be on and she could leave a message.

Elise checked the time, then finished her breakfast and moved quickly upstairs to use the bedroom telephone.

Siobhan picked up on the third ring, her voice jubilant on discovering who was on the other end of the line, and they talked for the best part of an hour before Elise reluctantly had to conclude the call in order to keep her appointment with the orthopaedic surgeon.

'Let's meet for lunch—
soon,'
she insisted.

'I'm a working girl, remember?' Siobhan teased. 'However, I'm off the next two nights. Is tomorrow soon enough?'

Elise gave an exultant laugh. 'Tomorrow it is. Just name the place, the time, and I'll be there.'

An hour later
Jose
deposited her outside the consultant orthopaedist's rooms, and thirty minutes later she walked out
sans
protective half-cast and bandages. The specialist sanctioned a return to driving, advised care with her hand, and suggested a further appointment in a month.

Now all she had to do was determine which car she could use as her own. There had been no mention of the white Porsche or its fate. Surely it couldn't have been smashed beyond repair? With the Bentley out of action, Alejandro was taking the Porsche Targa into the city, which left the Pajero wagon for Jose". She would have to broach it with Alejandro tonight.

After lunch she went through the contents of her wardrobe in an effort to reach a decision over what to wear to dinner, and after much deliberation she narrowed the choice down to two, eventually selecting a stunning fitted gown in deep emerald. The colour matched her eyes, highlighted the creamy texture of her skin, and proved a vivid contrast to her blonde hair.

It was almost four when Jose delivered her home from physiotherapy, and at five she took a shower, washed her hair and had Ana curl fat rollers into its length before attending to her nails.

Alejandro entered the bedroom as she began applying make-up, and she met his studied appraisal with equanimity.

'How is your hand?' He moved towards her, and Elise felt an immediate awareness of his close proximity.

Without a word she displayed the pink scar. 'I'm sure you've already received the specialist's report.' She hadn't intended to sound quite so cynical.

His eyes narrowed fractionally. 'Yes.'

'You also know that I am able to drive again,' she offered, watching as his head lowered down to hers.

She averted her head so that his kiss landed on her cheek, and almost at once he caught hold of her chin, anchoring it as he covered her mouth with his own in an invasion that brought forth a muffled entreaty he chose to ignore.

When he finally lifted his head she silently damned him to the depths of perdition.

The desire to rage against him was paramount, and, drawing in a deep breath, she launched into attack. 'I'd like to become independent again, rather than have to drag Jose away every tune I want to go out.'

Alejandro slipped the knot free on his tie and began unfastening the buttons on his shirt. "That is part of his job.'

Her eyes assumed a brilliant hue as anger began to unfurl, and it took considerable effort to control her temper. 'Have you assigned him as my gaoler?'

'You're being fanciful.'

'Am I?'

He looked every inch the power broker... indomitable, lethal, inflexible. 'Are you intent on having an argument?'

She wanted to throw something at him and have it cause mild bodily harm. 'I find it difficult to condone almost everything you do where I am concerned.'

He pulled his shirt free and tossed it down on to the bed.
'Almost
everything,
querida?'
One eyebrow slanted in silent mockery. 'Should I take that to indicate there is some hope for me?'

'Don't be so damned facetious,' she condemned fiercely, seething with helpless indignation as she glimpsed his amusement.

'We need to leave in half an hour. Can this discussion wait?'

'Until when, Alejandro?' she taunted, holding his gaze without any difficulty at all. 'Next week, next
month?'

'Tomorrow.'

It was a better concession than she had hoped for, and she viewed him steadily for several long seconds as her anger began to dissipate.

'Where is the dinner being held tonight?'

One eyebrow arched, and his mouth assumed a degree of cynicism. 'The Sheraton.'

Some devilish imp prompted her to ask, 'Will Savannah be there?'

'I imagine so. She likes to attend most of the events.'

'In order to see you.' It was nothing less than the truth.

'Savannah has many friends, most of whom are active on the social circuit,' he drawled, and his faintly mocking tones brought a resurgence of anger.

'I can't think why you didn't marry her.' Elise endeavoured not to sound bitter. 'She would have leapt at the chance!'

'Perhaps,' Alejandro conceded, watching the play of emotions across her expressive features. 'I chose not to ask her.'

'One can only wonder why.' Her eyes deepened in colour and became faintly reflective. 'She's beautiful, poised, and she comes from the right social background.' It was amazing that her voice sounded so calm.

His eyes gleamed with sardonic humour. 'Many women of my acquaintance fit that description.'

'Several of whom are wealthy in their own right,' she pursued, uncaring that she was treading dangerous ground. 'Poor Alejandro,' she added lightly. 'Were you afraid their prime motivation was an advantageous financial merger? Or, if their independent wealth was sufficient for that not to be a consideration, could there have been distaste that they were merely lusting after your body? Not to mention your---' she hesitated deliberately, then finished with considered delicacy '—impressive skill in the bedroom.'

'Only in the bedroom,
mi mujer?'
he mocked cynically. 'I retain a vivid recollection of several enjoyable ... encounters, shall we say?' he suggested, slanting one eyebrow. 'When we shared the shower, the spa.' His eyes gleamed as soft pink coloured her cheeks. 'Shall I continue?'

'You've had plenty of practice, damn you!'

'You are jealous,
querida,
that any one of my former lovers might possibly have meant more to me than you do?'

Elise felt her eyes widen with shock. Was she so transparent? Could he be aware of how much she hated the thought of his splendidly muscular body engaged in the act of lovemaking with another woman...?
Women,
she corrected. Past and present.

'How could I be jealous,' she countered, with as much pride as she could muster, 'when you clearly defined the reason for our marriage, allocated a price-tag and specified a time-limit?'

‘That bothers you?'

It bothered her like hell, but she was damned if she would admit to it. 'About as much as the fact that you've chosen to retain Savannah as your mistress.'

'The term
mistress
conveys a woman kept by a husband while still co-habiting with his wife.' His eyes were dark, and held latent anger. 'You imagine I would insult you in such a manner?'

I don't know. 'I'd appreciate it if you would at least keep the..
.liaison
discreet.'

There was a perceptible pause, one in which it seemed that even a pin falling to the floor would result in cacophonous sound. 'Am I to understand that you give your sanction to such a relationship?'

No.
The silent negation screamed inside her head. It took tremendous effort to effect a slight shrug. 'Would anything I say make a difference?'

He appeared to be marshalling his anger, confining it beneath a mantle of superb control. 'We have a dinner engagement,' he reminded her icily. 'I suggest you get changed.'

The thought of sitting through a formal dinner in the company of some of the city's social glitterati was more than she could bear. 'Forgive me, Alejandro,' she said with bitter cynicism, 'but I can't bring myself to play pretend tonight.' Her eyes sparkled with emerald brilliance. 'I'm sure you can come up with some valid excuse that will explain my absence.' A devilish imp prompted her to add, 'Savannah will be delighted.'

He looked at her for what seemed an age, his expression a compelling mask from which she inwardly shrank. 'You tempt me to the brink of violence,' he said in a voice that was so dangerously quiet it raised all her fine body-hairs in silent fear.

Without a further word he discarded his clothes and strode into the bathroom. He didn't slam the door, and she found that infinitely more disquieting than if he had resorted to an outward display of anger.

Ten minutes later he emerged, a towel hitched low over his hips, and she moved hastily to her feet as he began to dress.

'Ask Ana to prepare you something to eat.'

'It's her night off,' Elise managed in a stilted voice. 'I wouldn't dream of disturbing her.' She crossed to the door. 'I'm quite capable of fixing something myself.'

She didn't wait for Alejandro to respond, and on leaching ground level she made her way to the kitchen.

The refrigerator was well stocked, so too was the pantry. It was just a matter of making a decision. An omelette would suffice, with cheese, tomato, ham, mushrooms.., Not that she felt in the least hungry. If anything, the thought of food made her ill.

She removed a skillet, assembled the ingredients on the bench-top, then chopped, sliced and diced with methodical stoicism.

Alejandro entered the kitchen as she turned the omelette on to a plate, and she willed her hands not to betray her as she turned down the gas.

His raking appraisal unsettled her more than any words he could have chosen to utter, and she turned away from him as she carried her plate to the wide servery bench, then returned to collect cutlery.

She sensed rather than heard him move, and seconds later she felt his hands close over her shoulders as he turned her towards him.

For one achingly long moment their eyes clashed, then his head lowered in seemingly slow motion, and a strangled cry of dissent lay imprisoned in her throat as his mouth closed over hers in a hard merciless kiss that tore at her defences and reached right down to the depths of her soul.

It became a ruthless invasion that bordered on violation, and when at last he lifted his head, she could only stand in shocked immobility. If he had wanted to punish her, he'd succeeded, she decided numbly.