The One Month Marriage. Judith StacyЧитать онлайн книгу.
nothing in this house had changed in the past fourteen months, but she certainly had. The decision she’d made in London now looked all the more correct.
She absolutely would not live her life under these circumstances.
She was leaving.
Jana pressed her lips together. She’d never last the remaining four weeks under this roof. Yet she’d given her word, committed to stay. Her only escape would be Brandon himself releasing her from her promise.
A slow smile spread across Jana’s mouth. Brandon would ask her to leave.
She’d see to it.
Chapter Six
“G ood morning.” Jana breezed into the breakfast room, her smile as cheery as the sun streaming in through the lace-covered windows.
Brandon’s gaze came up from the two newspapers on the table in front of him, frowning slightly.
“Jana, I thought we agreed that I was to have breakfast alone. You know I need this time to think over the day, get a jump—”
“I was simply too excited to wait.” Jana yanked out the chair at his right elbow and planted herself in it. “First of all, I have to thank you for clarifying things for me last night. I realized you’re absolutely right. We both must live up to our duties and responsibilities if our marriage is going to work.”
Brandon nodded thoughtfully. “Good. I’m relieved to hear you say that.”
“Yes, I thought you would be.” Jana plucked a grape from the fruit bowl on the table and popped it into her mouth. “And I’m glad we’re in agreement.”
Brandon’s gaze lingered on her lips. “Well, huh, yes, so am I.”
Jana took another grape, rolled it against her lips, then pushed it into her mouth, her finger lingering a few seconds between her lips.
“So, today,” she went on, rubbing her lips together, “we will both go forth with a new commitment to our roles as husband and wife. I’m excited.”
Brandon shifted in the chair. “I’m growing excited myself.”
“I’m starting on the house today. The decorating is long overdue. I intend to give it my full attention. Nothing will be left undone.” Jana selected a banana from the serving bowl, peeled it and slid it past her lips. She paused, not biting into it, and pulled it out again. “If that’s all right with you, of course.”
“Huh?”
She touched her tongue to the tip of the banana. “Do I have free rein to decorate the house?”
He just looked at her.
“Brandon? The decorating? Brandon?”
He dragged his gaze from her lips up to her eyes, then ran his finger under his shirt collar. “Oh, yes, the decorating. Of course. Do whatever you want. The house is yours.”
“And you’ll take care of the grounds?” Jana asked, biting slowly into the banana.
He gulped, his gaze dropping to her mouth again. “What…whatever you want.”
Jana chewed slowly, then swallowed. “The grounds, like so many other things here, are in need of some long overdue attention. Wouldn’t you agree?”
His breathing picked up. “Oh, hell yeah…”
“I’ll inform the gardeners of the changes I want, and you’ll oversee their work, if that’s all right with you.” She closed her lips around the banana once more and bit into it.
“Certainly…”
She swallowed quickly, laid the banana aside and jumped to her feet. “Excellent. I’ll get started immediately.”
“You’re—you’re leaving?” He came out of his chair.
“Duties and responsibilities call,” she said briskly and snatched up both newspapers from the table. “I’ll need these.”
Brandon looked at the spot where the newspapers had lain, then up at her. “What for?”
“As I recall, the Times has the best advertisements for all those fabulous stores along Wilshire.” Jana waved her hand about the room. “Brandon, I have an entire house to decorate.”
“What about the Messenger?” he asked, gesturing lamely to the other newspaper.
“After you explained to me last night about the situation with the Messenger, I wanted to look it over, see if I can discern exactly what you mean,” Jana explained.
“But I always read the newspaper on the way to the office,” Brandon said.
“I’m sure that after our breakfast together this morning, you’ll have plenty to occupy your mind.” She flicked the tip of her tongue along her bottom lip, gave him a slow smile, and left the breakfast room.
“Jana! Wait!”
She turned back to see Brandon hurry after her. His cheeks were slightly flushed and a tiny drop of perspiration hung in his sideburn.
She’d seen those things before.
Brandon eased closer. “Does our new commitment to our duties and responsibilities include a resumption of our…marital relations?”
She frowned thoughtfully, then nodded. “Oh, you mean our lovemaking. As we used to do. You and me rolling around beneath the covers until the wee of the morning? All those delightfully sinful moments we shared?”
His breathing quickened. “Yes?”
“Hum…” Jana tapped her finger against her lips. “Perhaps we could consider that.”
“Now?”
She tsked. “Brandon, we have our responsibilities to see to today.”
“Yes, but—”
She touched his chest with the newspaper. “Let’s discuss it at supper tonight, shall we?”
“I’ll be home early,” he promised.
Jana gave him a saucy little grin and left him standing in the doorway.
“What the hell!”
Brandon’s roar rang through the house, down the hallway and into the sitting room, bringing Jana up out of her chair.
Though she felt a little guilty about her blatant flirting and not-so-subtle innuendo this morning at the breakfast table, she’d assuaged her conscience today with the conviction of her decision: if she couldn’t get him to stay home, she could never torment him enough so that he’d ask her to leave.
She glanced at the mantel clock and smiled to herself. Just past the stroke of six and Brandon was home.
So far, her plan was working beautifully.
Jana left the sitting room and found Brandon in the foyer glaring at the scaffolds, reams of wallpaper, cans of paint, tools, equipment and the dozen workmen extending down the hallway.
“Good evening, Brandon,” she greeted him, a placid smile on her face. It wasn’t easy holding that expression in place against Brandon’s scowl, even though she’d expected it in this next phase of her plan.
“What the hell is going on?” he demanded, raising his voice over the din of banging hammers and grinding saws.
“I’m decorating,” she said. “Remember? We discussed it at breakfast this morning.”
“This isn’t decorating!”
“It’s the way I decorate,” she said crisply. “I’m knocking out a few of the walls.”
“Knocking out the—what?” He gaze pinged around, then turned back at her. “Jana, you can’t