Wife in Public (13 page)

It was strange seeing this formidable side of him—the
exercise of unrelenting power—though she had glimpsed it before when Olivia had turned up with her black mail problem. This was how he dealt with his world, she realised, the other side of the charm he had brought into her world.

She needed to know a lot more about Jordan’s life. Her instincts said he was the right man for her, but experiencing a
real
relationship with him would definitely make her feel more confident that a marriage between them could work. However, what she needed most was for this current sense of
un
reality to leave her.

‘All set,’ he said with satisfaction, having ended the call. ‘Would you like to contact your mother now? Tell her the news and invite her to the party?’

‘Yes, I will.’

Sacha’s reaction would surely lift her spirits, generate the excitement that Jordan’s proposal should be generating. She fossicked in her handbag for her mobile telephone, found it, switched it on, took a deep breath and set about correcting the false impression of Jordan she’d given her mother earlier today.

Sacha was ecstatic at the marvellous turnaround from break-up to marriage, babbling on about being right about the roses and how happy she was for Ivy. Of course she would attend the engagement party. With bells on! She finished up with, ‘I’ve always wanted the best for you, darling, and I’m sure with Jordan, you’ll have it.’

It left a more relaxed smile on Ivy’s face as she put her phone away. Margaret had said she was
the best
for him. Her mother thought Jordan was
the best
for her. She remembered at their meeting in the Queen Victoria Building, when Jordan had been pushing for a relation
ship, he’d argued,
It might be the best thing either of us could ever have.

All she had to do was believe it.

Jordan took her hands and drew her up from the sofa, a teasing twinkle in his eyes. ‘Happy now?’

Her heart swelled with love for him. She wound her arms around his neck, her eyes sparkling with the wonder of what had happened between them. ‘Very happy,’ she answered.

He kissed her forehead and murmured, ‘No more bad thoughts. We’re good together, Ivy, and everyone is going to see that. We’ll show them.’

‘Yes,’ she said. It was true. They were good together.

And her whole body pulsed happily with that truth as he fitted it to his and kissed her with more than enough fervour to drive it home. An exultant joy danced through her mind. This was her man. Regardless of what the future held for them, she was never going to regret having him.

T
HE
first clash over Jordan’s world came at the jeweller’s when they were looking at a fabulous array of rings. Ivy had never seen such beautifully cut and crafted gemstones. They were light years above the usual diamond engagement rings one saw in shop windows. She was so dazzled by them, she looked at Jordan in disbelief when he asked her to choose what most appealed to her. They were simply beyond anything she had imagined and her mind cringed at what any one of them might cost.

‘You choose,’ she pleaded, realising he was intent on having her wear a ring that reflected his buying power and gave her instant status as his fiancée.

Without the slightest hesitation he reached for a brilliant square-cut emerald mounted in the centre of two rows of diamonds, the first row square cut like the emerald, the second shaped like tear drops. ‘Let’s try this one,’ he said, smiling as he took her left hand and slid it on her third finger. ‘Perfect fit, too. Do you like it?’

‘It’s…it’s magnificent, Jordan.’ What else could she say?

‘Great! We’ll take it,’ he said with satisfaction.

‘A fine choice!’ the jeweller approved. ‘May I show you the accompanying pieces, sir? A matching diamond and emerald necklace and earrings.’ He smiled
at Ivy. ‘I’m sure they would look splendid on Miss Thornton.’

She was speechless, appalled at the suggestion.

‘Please do,’ Jordan said, obviously enthused by the idea.

The jeweller swiftly removed himself to some back room to fetch them and Ivy seized the chance for a private protest. ‘You mustn’t buy them for me, Jordan,’ she cried anxiously. ‘The ring is enough. More than enough.’

He smiled indulgently at her. ‘Ivy, I can afford to spoil you with some fine jewellery. And if it does look splendid on you, we’ll go shopping for a suitable dress to show it off at our engagement party.’

‘No!’ She shook her head vehemently. ‘They’ll all know you bought it. They’ll think…’ Just like his sister did, that he was fitting her out to be introduced to his social scene—Cinderella striking it rich. ‘I don’t want it, Jordan,’ she said with a fierce surge of pride. ‘I’ll dress myself and if I’m not good enough for you as I am…’

‘Hey, hey!’ he cut in, frowning at her reaction to his plan. ‘I only meant to give you the pleasure of outshining everyone on the night.’

She glared at him. ‘I’m not a trophy woman, remember? It’s not me.’ She looked down at the ring on her finger, beginning to feel uncomfortable about that, too.

He put his hand over it to prevent her from taking it off. ‘You’re going to be my wife, Ivy. This ring is part and parcel of that position. I want you to have it. Okay?’

He spoke with soft persuasion but there was inflexible purpose in his eyes, demanding that she surrender to his will on this issue. She heaved a sigh to ease the tightness in her chest and nodded. ‘Okay to the ring. But not to
you buying me anything else.’ She was absolutely inflexible herself on that point. The memory of yesterday’s encounter in the Double Bay boutique was too fresh to forget. No way would she invite rotten assumptions to be made about her.

He raised his hand to gently stroke her cheek, which was burning with the ferocity of her feeling. ‘You’re more than good enough for me and I hope you never change,’ he said with what looked like genuine appreciation in his eyes. ‘Wear whatever you like on Saturday night, as long as you also wear this ring because it says what I feel about you for the whole world to see.’

Her pride splintered into a quick apology. ‘Sorry for being so prickly.’ Her eyes pleaded for understanding. ‘I guess it’s a lot to take in all at once. I won’t let you down at the party. I
can
look presentable, you know.’

‘Don’t let it be too important, Ivy. It’s not,’ he assured her.

But somehow it was. She was about to be publicly linked with Jordan Powell, and she needed to look like a match for him, not feel out of place at his side. After the purchase of the ring had been made, she delayed her return to the farm, driving over to Double Bay and not leaving until she was satisfied that her wardrobe had been suitably replenished with clothes which would not raise a critical eyebrow anywhere.

The sheer extravagance of what she’d bought nagged at her on the drive home. She was not used to spending so much money on herself. There’d only been the one wild spree for Sacha’s exhibition, motivated mostly to avoid criticism, which was what she was doing again now. Jordan was right. She shouldn’t let what others might think become too important, nor should she let her pride prevent him from giving her whatever he want
ed to give her. If it gave him pleasure to adorn her like a queen, she should accept it gracefully, especially when she was his wife.

She wanted to fit into his world. For him. She needed to learn how to do it, not buck at every entry point. It was important to be more open-minded now, adapt to whatever company she was in. He’d done it for her. Loving him, having his love…keeping that at the heart of everything would surely smooth the path to the future they wanted together.

It was almost four o’clock—Heather’s leaving time—when Ivy arrived home. She hurried into the office, carrying her shopping bags, knowing her friend would want to see everything.

‘Hi! You’re not going to believe this!’ Heather exclaimed, swivelling her chair around from the computer table. ‘Jordan has just ordered twenty dozen red roses, without the fudge, to be couriered to a Palm Beach residence on Friday afternoon.’ Her brow furrowed over this departure from form. ‘What do you suppose this means?’

Ivy grinned at her. ‘I guess they’re to decorate his mother’s house for our engagement party on Saturday night.’ She held out her left hand. ‘Look!’

Heather squealed and erupted from her chair, pouncing on Ivy’s hand, her eyes goggling at the ring. ‘Oh, wow! That’s the best Christmas tree I’ve ever seen!’

Ivy laughed. ‘It does look a bit like one.’

‘And marrying Jordan Powell!’ She grinned in delight. ‘All your Christmases have come at once, Ivy. Why didn’t you call me, tell me? It’s such fantastic news!’

‘
Fantastic
is the operative word,’ Ivy answered dryly. ‘It didn’t seem real at first. I wasn’t expecting it. You know why, Heather.’

‘That’s all in the past,’ was Heather’s blithe dismissal. ‘I thought he was seriously attracted to you and this proves it. Let’s go out to the kitchen, pour ourselves a celebratory drink and you can tell me all the marvellous details.’ Her eyes sparkled gleefully. ‘Did he go down on bended knee to propose?’

Ivy shook her head. ‘It wasn’t like that.’

She didn’t mind revealing the truth to Heather, who knew all the background. They sat at the kitchen table and Ivy poured out her feelings, how Jordan had turned them around, and confiding that she was still coming to grips with the new situation and would be grateful for any input that might help with it.

‘Let Jordan be your guide into his world, Ivy,’ Heather advised. ‘Trust him to decide what’s best for both of you. I think he’s been doing that already, and he’ll go on doing it because he loves you and doesn’t want to lose you. Just keep that straight in your mind and don’t let other people mess with it. Not his mother, not his sister, not anyone.’

‘Yes, you’re right,’ Ivy agreed, the load of worries lifting from her heart. She could do this—be Jordan’s partner in life. Anything worth having was worth working at. With experience would come more expertise in handling whatever had to be handled for them to be happy together.

‘Now about this engagement party. Are Graham and I invited?’ Heather asked hopefully.

‘Of course! And all our other friends, as well.’

‘Oh, good! We can hire a minibus for the night and have the fun of going together.’

There were calls to be made, arrangements to be put in place, and knowing she had the happy support of her friends made the prospect of the engagement party much
less intimidating. As for the rest, she would have Jordan at her side—her man, proclaiming to the whole world that she was his woman.

It should be—would be—the most wonderful night of her life!

Jordan left no stone unturned to ensure there would be no upsetting incident for Ivy at their engagement party. The roses were a good talking point. Not only did they identify Ivy as a clever businesswoman, but it would undoubtedly amuse people to hear he’d been ordering them from her farm for years and she had initially rejected him because of them. Laughter was always an effective icebreaker and they would look at Ivy with the respect she deserved.

Having dealt with the business of the day, he drove to Palm Beach, intent on checking what his mother and sister had done so far. It was already Wednesday. Much had to be accomplished in three days, but where there was a will, there was a way, especially when cost was no object. Jordan didn’t care what was paid out for this occasion. It had to be right for Ivy.

‘I’m exhausted,’ his mother complained, the moment the butler had shown him into the lounge room where pre-dinner drinks had been served. ‘I’ve been on the telephone all day, letting people know, begging my favourite caterer to drop everything for me…’

‘Which, of course, he did,’ Jordan dryly remarked. No one refused Nonie Powell.

She set down her glass of sherry and threw up her hands in exasperation. ‘Why the hurry? She’s not pregnant, is she?’

‘No. I just don’t want Ivy in any doubt as to where she stands with me,’ he replied, his gaze moving to his sister
who was nursing a large Scotch on the rocks. ‘Before you dull your sensibilities with alcohol, I’d like you to give me your support in doing that, Olivia.’

‘I deserve a drink,’ she retorted, her chin lifting belligerently. ‘I’ve been on the phone for you all day, too.’

‘Thank you. I hope it wasn’t too much of a hardship.’ He was quite sure she’d had a ball, getting the gossip-mill going as well as spreading the happy news. ‘What I want now is for you to write Ivy a letter, apologising for your behaviour towards her yesterday and expressing the hope you can be friends in the future. If it’s posted tomorrow for next-day delivery, she’ll receive it before the weekend and feel more comfortable about meeting you again on Saturday night.’

Olivia huffed, grimaced, then lifted eyes full of confusion. ‘I honestly thought she was getting into you, Jordan. How was I to know that you loved each other? You’ve never been serious about a woman. Certainly not since Biancha Barlow almost had you fooled.’

Ivy’s character was light years away from Biancha’s. ‘Ivy doesn’t want me for my money,’ he said with absolute certainty. ‘I’ve known that for quite a while. This morning I wanted to buy her some jewellery to match the engagement ring. She recoiled from it as though I’d offered her a snake. I think you’ve poisoned her mind against accepting any expensive gifts from me, Olivia, and I need you to put that right. I want her to be happy about what I can give her, not feel branded as a fortune-hunter.’

Olivia frowned. ‘What jewellery did she knock back?’

‘A necklace and earrings in emeralds and diamonds to match the ring.’

Her eyes almost popped. ‘Wow! That’s big!’

Jordan bored in. ‘I wanted her to have them, Olivia. If you hadn’t interfered…’

‘Yes, yes, I see your point. I made it nasty instead of nice.’ She set her drink down and rose to her feet with an air of decision. ‘I’ll go to the office and write the letter now. And Jordan…’ She gave him a crooked little smile. ‘I’m glad for you. I really am. At least one of us might have a happy marriage.’

He smiled back. ‘Thank you.’

It was the first time he’d actually felt a sympathetic bond with his sister. Maybe, if Olivia made the effort to be friends with Ivy, he and she could become closer in the future, set their usual antagonism aside and be warmer towards each other.

Strange how suddenly his whole life now seemed centred on Ivy. Marriage to her had not entered his mind until it had burst into it as the only way to stop her from leaving him. Yet it was beginning to feel more and more right, so much so he was determined to prevent any possible snag that might stop it from happening.

‘It’s only been three months since Sacha Thornton’s exhibition,’ his mother commented, viewing him with sceptical eyes. ‘You’re rushing into this, Jordan.’

He raised challenging eyebrows. ‘I was told it was only three weeks after you met Dad that he asked you to marry him.’

She waved a dismissive hand. ‘They were different times.’

He shook his head. ‘People have the same feelings now as they had then, Mum.’

That earned a hard look. ‘You’re sure she’s right for you?’

‘Yes.’ Doubts could come later, but Jordan was now bent on not entertaining them until they bit him.

‘Different backgrounds,’ his mother pointed out.

‘Doesn’t matter.’

‘It will in the future.’

‘Not if we don’t let it.’

She sighed. ‘Well, I see you have your mind set on it, Jordan, but it is a different world now and women won’t put up with what they used to. Do you honestly think you’ll be faithful to her in a long-term relationship?’

He hadn’t put that question to himself yet he answered without the slightest hesitation. ‘Yes, I do. I’ve had lots of women in the past, Mum. I know I’ve got the best with Ivy. I won’t even be tempted to look elsewhere.’

She sighed again. ‘Yes, I guess you do know that.’ Her eyes had a wry look as she added, ‘Your father didn’t. I was a virgin when we married and I was never really comfortable with what he wanted in bed. In some ways it was a relief when his mistresses supplied it. I knew he would never leave me, but…it wasn’t the happiest of marriages, Jordan. I hope you have a better one with your Ivy.’

Jordan found himself deeply touched by this confession and sad that his mother had never known uninhibited joy in sex. ‘I’m sorry it was like that for you, Mum. And for Dad. Do you think it was right for you to stay together all those years?’

Nonie’s pride answered him. ‘I had a wonderful life with your father. I wouldn’t have given it up for anything. Besides, we had our family. And your father wouldn’t have given that up for anything.’

Family…no, he wouldn’t give that up, either, if he and Ivy had children. He had to make this marriage work, on every level. Sex was no problem. He was sure it never would be. If they could strike the right balance
with the living part, if Ivy would ease up over fitting into his scene…