Yesterday's Bride (7 page)

"Love!" He spat out the word. "What's that? You can't base marriage on misguided emotion."

Agitatedly Leigh pushed a strand of silky silver hair behind her ear. He was a cold-blooded, inhuman machine and she loathed him.

He read the emotions playing across her face and disregarded them.

"The marriage could have worked, Leigh. You should have given it a chance."

Her head drooped, as if her slender neck were too frail to hold it. Then she looked up, straight into his accusing eyes.

"I'm not proud of what I did. I know I took the coward's way out, running away instead of facing you. But it wouldn't have changed anything, you know."

Briefly she closed her eyes. "I did write to you, to explain."

"Ah, yes, your letter. It merely confirmed my conviction that I had had a narrow escape. A polite little note saying you had made a mistake. What you really meant was that you couldn't stand to live on a farm, away from the bright lights."

"It wasn't that at all. I've tried to tell you…" Her voice faded. She knew he wouldn't believe her anyway.

"Was it bad for you after the wedding?" She ventured to ask something that had long been bothering her. "I mean, did everyone here know?"

"That I'd been jilted? No. Since the wedding was to be a small one, I had only told my brother and his wife and Smitty. There was no big announcement, so don't worry, you won't have to face a lot of awkward questions. As far as everyone around here is concerned, we're newly weds."

"I didn't mean—oh, what's the use? We're on different wavelengths."

Leigh had been genuinely concerned about the humiliation he might have suffered at her hands, on returning home without a bride, but he would never accept that. She didn't seem to be able to break through the wall of misconceptions he had formed against her, but maybe it was best not even to try.

Getting restlessly to her feet, Leigh walked over to the window to gaze without seeing into the darkness outside. The mingled fragrance of sweet spring flowers that wafted in through the half-opened window was an incongruous accompaniment to the tense atmosphere in the room. Leigh reached up and pulled down the sash.

"Look, Jason," she said, turning around, "I'm here. I've agreed to stay until Jody's parents return. Can't we leave it at that and let the past rest in peace? We'll be getting the annulment soon anyway."

"Is there a man, Leigh?"

Somehow Leigh managed to put a coolness into her voice. "I don't think that's any of your business."

His smile was not a nice one. "That means there probably is. Does he know you're married?"

Abruptly Leigh pushed away from the window sill. She took a deep breath, reconsidered and decided to try once more.

"Jason, let's end the war. If we're going to be living together—I mean, sharing the same house—for the next few months, we've got to try to be civil at least. It isn't going to help Jody if we're constantly sniping at one another. Children must be sensitive to atmosphere."

She paused, searching the cold face in vain for an ounce of understanding.

"Just what did you have in mind?" he asked suggestively.

Helpless, Leigh whirled away from his derision. "Oh, what's the use? I'm going to bed."

She had reached the door of her room when he caught up with her.

"Leigh, wait." He caught her shoulder. "You're right. I'll bury the hatchet—for Jody's sake."

She stared at him open-mouthed, his capitulation taking her completely by surprise.

"Pax?"

Unnervingly conscious of his closeness, Leigh was suddenly breathless and could only nod. His hand inched up to trail light fingertips across her smooth cheek, his breath stirring a few strands of the silvery hair about her temple.

Before she was really aware of what he was doing, he leaned over and she felt his lips brush hers. They lingered as their kiss deepened. Her lips parted, and almost involuntarily, she swayed against him. "Good night, my love, sleep well," he said softly. He lifted his head, and for a magic instant, his dark eyes met hers. Then he moved away and went to his room, gently closing the door.

As in a daze, Leigh went into her bedroom. But once in bed, she found it hard to get to sleep. She tried to tell herself it was the unfamiliar bed, a strange house, her new responsibilities with Jody, but she had to be honest with herself. It was Jason. Her lips still tingled from their kiss. She had to admit that she was still as physically attracted to him as ever. Had he not stopped when he had, God knows where it all would have ended. Just to hear his even breathing next door sent her temperature soaring. When his dark eyes had looked into hers, she had trembled with desire. His rugged features had haunted her dreams for too long. She had longed for too many lonely years for his touch not to be moved by it now.

And yet she hated him. She must have been out of her mind to agree to end the warfare between them. "Pax," he had said.
Pax
indeed! Being friendly with Jason was like crawling in bed with a tiger. She winced at her own imagery. Yes, she must remember that. He had never loved her. He didn't now. Nothing had changed. That he still found her desirable was due to their proximity. She had always known, even in their few weeks together, that Jason was a passionate man, but passion is not love, she reminded herself.

She had offered him her heart five years ago with all the idealism of a first love, and he had carelessly accepted it. But he hadn't given her anything in return. Worse, she had a strong suspicion that he had spoiled her for any other man.

Hate him though she might, Leigh wasn't fool enough to underestimate his pure physical appeal. Therein lay her danger. She knew she had to guard against being drawn helplessly into the powerful magnetic field that surrounded him. She couldn't let that happen. She just couldn't.

Absently Leigh rubbed her hand across her forehead. She had to cope with the situation if she was to last out the next weeks, and the best way would seem to be to keep her mind off Jason.

Rolling over, Leigh punched her pillow up and determinedly closed her eyes.

Still, when Jody began to stir around six o'clock, she was glad of an excuse to get up.

The next few days sped by. Leigh adjusted without difficulty to Jody's simple routine. The child was increasingly affectionate as she got used to Leigh and the two of them spent happy, full hours together. The warm spring weather cooperated so that they were able to spend most of their time out of doors. They rambled in the woods as far as Jody's short legs could go without tiring, and they explored the neighborhood. As Jason had said, the cottage was rather isolated so there were no near neighbors, but Jody seemed content with Leigh's company. She was an amenable child and since she was Leigh's primary concern, Leigh gave her all her attention. In doing so, she hoped she wasn't spoiling the child, but so far she saw no evidence of it, and she was learning to be firm when necessary.

Much to Leigh's relief, the situation between Jason and her was easier than it had been. True to his word, he had buried the hatchet, for the time being anyway, for Jody's sake. Leigh couldn't penetrate the thoughts behind his enigmatic mask, but on the surface he was casual and relaxed with her. In fact, he had taken lately to treating her much the way he treated Jody, with gentle teasing.

They didn't see much of him, however. He left very early in the mornings, often before Leigh and Jody were up, which was early indeed, and would appear at night in time for dinner. He always reserved some time in his busy schedule for Jody, usually in the evening before she went to bed. Afterwards, pleading work, he would bring out his attaché case and spend the rest of the evening immersed in a stack of papers. Leigh took to going to bed early. Often she was pleasantly tired from the exercise of the day, but increasingly, she found she didn't want to sit in the same room with Jason. Leaning over a table, an intense look of concentration on his face as he read or wrote, Jason was too disturbing for her peace of mind. The aura of virile masculinity about him was pervasive, even when his thoughts were totally on another plane. Somehow it would reach out to Leigh from across the room, repeatedly drawing her eyes from the printed pages of the magazine or book in front of her. So, in self-defense, she took refuge in her room.

One morning, Leigh and Jody had visitors. Since the sky was rather overcast, Leigh had convinced Jody to pass up their usual walk in favor of an art project. She had found a stack of old magazines in a closet and she was cutting bright pictures from them for Jody to paste onto a large piece of paper. So engrossed were they that they didn't hear anyone knocking on the door and they looked up to see a woman and a little girl of five or so walking into the kitchen.

"Mrs. Randall?" The woman hesitated until Leigh nodded. "I did knock," she said, smiling. "When I saw the door was open, I knew you must be here so we came on in. I hope you don't mind." She led the child forward a step. "I'm Betty Pender, and this is my daughter Karen. We live here on the farm."

Leigh smiled in return as she gave her name. "I'm sorry we didn't hear you. We've gotten rather carried away, I'm afraid," she said, motioning toward the littered table.

She bent to the child to say hello and perform the introduction of Jody. In the presence of the older child, Jody seemed shy as well.

"Maybe Karen would like to help you paste," Leigh suggested gently as she retrieved the scissors she had been using and put them away on a high shelf. Leaving the children to their cautious observance of each other, she turned to her guest.

"Would you like some coffee?"

The woman accepted, and while Leigh was busy at the sink looked with interest around the shabby, but now spotlessly clean room.

"I hope you don't mind my dropping by like this," she said, sitting down in the kitchen chair Leigh indicated. "I wanted to give you time to settle in, but I was dying to meet you."

"I'm glad you came over," Leigh assured her warmly. "I like company and I'm sure Jody will be delighted to have someone her own age to play with for a change."

She glanced at the two children, who still seemed wary with each other. Jody was pasting, with Karen an interested onlooker.

"I heard about Bob's accident," Betty said softly. "It was nice of you to give up your honeymoon to take care of Jody." Her voice was full of admiration and Leigh felt like a terrible fraud.

Deep in thought, she opened the refrigerator door to reach for a container of milk. She had wondered if Jason would try to keep her identity and presence at the cottage a secret since she was here only temporarily, but apparently he had not. Betty obviously knew who she was. That Jason's wife would be an object of curiosity around here, Leigh had no doubt.

Leigh gave the children each a glass of milk and a cookie, which seemed to help break the ice, and suggested that she and Betty go into the living room if the children wouldn't mind.

Betty Pender looked to be in her twenties— about Leigh's age, in fact. She was an open, friendly sort of person who chatted away, telling Leigh about herself. Her husband was Jason's farm manager. Apparently Jason's extensive business interests had grown so much that three years ago he had hired Jim Pender to take over the actual running of the farm. The Penders had come here from a city, Betty said, where Jim, country-bred, had hated every minute of his job as an accountant there.