Shattered Illusions. Anne MatherЧитать онлайн книгу.
the chaotic state of her emotions, Jaime still knew a lie when she heard one. Catriona didn’t care what she thought of her. She just wanted to warn her that if she had any ideas about Dominic she should forget them—or take the consequences.
Like Kristin? Which might explain Sophie’s attitude, as well.
Schooling her features to an impassive blandness, Jaime chose the least provocative path she knew. ‘Will you be wanting to examine these pages tonight, Miss Redding?’ she enquired politely. ‘I should think I could have them checked in about an hour.’
The implications of what she had learned that afternoon struck Jaime more strongly that evening.
After Samuel had delivered her supper tray, as usual, she carried it out onto the balcony, and seated herself in one of the cushioned rattan chairs. Yesterday morning, Catriona had informed her that although they might sometimes have breakfast or lunch together she would be expected to dine in her own quarters. It was nothing less than Jaime had anticipated. She’d read enough books to know how live-in employees were usually treated.
Tonight, however, she could not maintain the spirit of objectivity that had carried her through the two days since her arrival. Restlessness, and the undoubted shock she had received when Catriona had spoken of her relationship with Dominic, had left her in a state of raw ambivalence. She no longer knew whether what she was doing was entirely sensible; she didn’t even know if she wanted to stay.
It had all seemed so simple in London.
Her father’s death, and the discovery of the newspaper clippings, had shed a whole new light on her own identity, and, although in the beginning she’d never had any intention of doing anything about it, seeing Catriona’s advertisement as she had had given her this crazy idea of applying for the job.
After all, she’d thought, if she could arrange it, what did she have to lose? She had no family ties to worry about, and it wasn’t as if it was going to be a permanent arrangement. All she’d needed was a couple of weeks’ leave-of-absence, and with the long summer vacation in the offing that hadn’t been a problem.
And, when she’d applied for the job, she hadn’t really believed that she might be appointed. After all, it was some years since she’d done any secretarial work, even if she used a computer to store her notes. There were so many competent secretaries in the market-place, but she was called for a second interview, and ultimately told that, subject to Catriona’s approval, the job was hers.
So where was the excitement now that she had felt then? Why had everything suddenly gone so flat? She knew the answer, of course—had known it from the moment Catriona had first walked into her study. When she’d regarded Jaime with that cold, assessing smile, she’d suspected then she’d made a huge mistake.
But then she’d determined to overcome her apprehension. She’d put her misgivings down to the way she was feeling, but now she was not so sure. She was beginning to wonder if the doubts she had had might not have been a warning. And she’d ignored it because the idea of flying over three thousand miles, just to turn around and fly back again, had seemed childish and immature.
She sighed. What had happened, after all, to cause all this soul-searching? Was it just because she’d found out Catriona was having an affair? For heaven’s sake, the woman’s sexual habits had nothing to do with why she had come here. It was natural that she should have a man in her life. She was a beautiful woman. So why not?
The truth was a much more personal thing than she wanted to acknowledge. Although she barely knew Dominic Redding—and had certainly no expectation that he might ever find her attractive—the idea that he might be having an affair with his father’s widow overstepped the bounds of decency, so far as Jaime was concerned.
Perhaps she was a prude; perhaps her opinion was hopelessly provincial. The world of the university did tend to insulate one from the more sordid side of life. Why should it matter to her what Catriona and her stepson did in the privacy of their own apartments? Wasn’t she judging them unfairly, without knowing any of the facts?
Whatever, the news had cast an uneasy shadow over the situation. She had had such high hopes when she’d come here, yet slowly but surely they were all being eaten away. But what had she expected from a woman who, twenty-seven years ago, had abandoned her husband and baby? She should have let Cathryn Michaels stay dead. Resurrecting icons was always a risky business...
DOMINIC allowed the wave to carry him all the way in to the shore, and then pushed himself to his feet and walked up out of the ocean. Water streamed over his shoulders from the overly long hair that lapped at his nape, and he raised a careless hand to push back the heavy dark strands. He’d have to get it cut before he went back to the office, he reflected, and scowled as the connotations of that thought soured his mood.
Picking up the towel he had dropped on the beach, he dried himself vigorously, warming his cooling flesh. Although the ocean was several degrees warmer here than it was off the coast of New York state, at this hour of the morning it could still feel chilly. But the exhilaration of the experience always made him feel good.
Or it did usually, he amended, drying his thighs, and then reaching for his jeans. This morning, he’d used the excuse of going for a swim to avoid having to make a decision about when he was leaving. After last night, he knew he couldn’t put it off much longer.
Catriona had been particularly irritating the previous evening. Far from trying to understand his position, she had accused him of avoiding her, of avoiding any discussion about their future. She’d even asked if he found her new assistant attractive, as if that were relevant. He grimaced. She surely couldn’t imagine he was interested in Jaime Harris. For God’s sake, he’d been civil to the woman, that was all. Catriona’s constant carping about his treatment of other females simply wasn’t warranted.
He zipped up his jeans, leaving the button at his waist unfastened as he towelled his hair. Dammit, what kind of a life were they going to have together if she didn’t trust him? Since his divorce from Mary Beth, he’d never had another serious relationship.
He looped the towel about his neck, and stared broodingly towards the headland. Obviously the bug that had sapped his strength and brought him here was still infecting his system. Right now, he couldn’t think about the future with any enthusiasm at all. God, he didn’t even know what the future held, and the more Catriona pushed him, the more reluctant he was to placate her.
A shadow moved suddenly near the dunes that sloped down to the beach, and he stiffened. Dammit, he realised impatiently, it was that woman again: Jaime Harris. Had Catriona set her to spy on him as well?
The unlikelihood of that scenario brought a cynical compression to his lips. Catriona would never do that. Particularly not when the woman was younger than she was. More likely, she was still having a problem with sleeping. He knew what it was like to wake early in the morning and not be able to fall asleep again. He pulled a wry face. His being here at this hour was proof of that.
It was obvious from the way she was trying to melt back into the shadows that she was as unwilling to acknowledge the encounter as before. And he was tempted to let her go, without embarrassing her again. But what the hell? he thought. Maybe this was what he needed. Perhaps talking to someone else would lift the weight of his problems for a short while.
It couldn’t have been much fun for her so far. Working for Catriona all day, and then being expected to entertain herself every evening, was not his idea of the ideal job. He’d noticed that, despite his invitation, she hadn’t used the Toyota over the weekend. He suspected Catriona had kept her busy. When Catriona was in the throes of composition, she tended not to consider anyone’s needs but her own.
Abandoning his mood of introspection, he turned and looked directly at her, so that she was obliged either to acknowledge she had seen him or risk offending him by pretending she hadn’t. A faint smile touched his lips as he watched her indecision, although he guessed the outcome was a foregone conclusion. He could almost sense what