From Mistresses To Wives?. Lee WilkinsonЧитать онлайн книгу.
on to Aspreys, where Jessica was invited to choose both engagement and wedding rings.
‘I still can’t believe it’s only three days since we met!’ she exclaimed over a late lunch. She lifted her left hand to look at the diamond hoop once more, seeing the stones flash as they caught the light. ‘This must have cost the earth!’
Zac looked amused. ‘The only woman I ever met with a concern for my pocket!’
‘I’ve told you before,’ she responded with mock severity. ‘You’ve been mixing with the wrong type!’ She sobered again to add, ‘Speaking of which—’
‘All in the past.’ Zac was still smiling, but there was a note in his voice that hadn’t been there before. ‘As with your Paul, I hope.’
‘He isn’t my Paul,’ she said. ‘He probably never was.’
‘You think he was two-timing you all the time you were together?’
‘I suppose it’s possible.’ Jessica shook herself mentally, regretting the turn the conversation had taken. ‘It isn’t important anyway. Not any more. Did you make any decision about the Valldemosa hotel?’
Zac accepted the change of subject without demur. ‘Not yet.’
‘Do you often do that sort of thing?’
He gave her a quizzical look. ‘You consider it beneath my lofty position to go out on the road?’
‘I’d imagine it’s pretty unusual.’
‘It probably is. I’d go crazy sitting around an office all day and every day, so I take the chance whenever I can.’
‘How much of the world does Orbis cover?’
‘Just about anywhere people might want to go. The Maldives are getting to be one of the biggest draws.’
‘Have you been there?’
‘A couple of times. Wonderful scuba diving. Have you ever done any?’
Jessica shook her head. ‘I’ve always wanted to handle a snorkel!’
‘Easy enough to learn. Fancy it?’
She laughed. ‘Some chance!’
‘Every chance,’ he corrected. ‘There are tiny islands out there that are just made for honeymooners.’
It took Jessica a moment or two to come up with a response. ‘I thought we’d already had the honeymoon.’
It was Zac’s turn to laugh. ‘I doubt if we’ll be the first to have anticipated.’ He lowered his voice to a seductive murmur. ‘Imagine nights making love under a starry sky on a bed of pure white sand, with no need for clothing because there’s no one else there to see us.’
Jessica could imagine it only too vividly. The very thought set the blood sizzling in her veins. ‘Are you serious?’ she questioned uncertainly. ‘About going there, I mean?’
‘Unless you know of somewhere even better?’
‘From the sound of it, there can’t be any!’ She was too entranced for any blase act. ‘I’ve never been outside Europe before.’
‘High time you did, then,’ he said. ‘There’s a lot of world out there.’
Much of which he would already have seen himself, Jessica guessed. As a Prescott wife, she would be living on a different level from the one she was accustomed to.
‘Of course, it’s going to have to wait a while,’ Zac added.
She took his meaning at once. He would hardly want to be out of the country with his grandfather in the state he was.
‘Of course,’ she echoed.
‘I’m assuming you’ll be going to Leonie’s place tomorrow when you supposedly get back from Majorca,’ he went on. ‘Best if you give her the news on your own, I think. I’ll come round on Wednesday. In the meantime, I’d better show you where you’ll be living once we’re married.’
Jessica’s thoughts hadn’t got that far ahead as yet. ‘A flat?’ she hazarded.
‘A bit less conventional than that. You might not care for it.’
‘I’m sure it will be perfect,’ she said.
She had no reason to change that opinion when she saw the Chelsea mews. It was an absolute delight, every dwelling different, plant life abounding in every corner. Zac had both floors of number eleven. A dream of a place all round, Jessica acknowledged, roaming through the imaginatively decorated and furnished rooms.
‘A designer friend’s doing,’ Zac admitted when she congratulated him on his taste. ‘I wouldn’t have known where to start.’
A woman, no doubt, she reflected. Possibly rather more than just a friend too. As a bachelor, Zac had enjoyed the freedom to spend his nights however he chose. There was every chance he was going to find the curtailment of that freedom hard to take.
‘Hungry?’ he asked.
Not for food, she could have told him. She shook her head.
‘Coffee then? Or something stronger?’
‘Coffee will be fine. Let me make it,’ she tagged on as he made a move in the direction of the kitchen.
‘I can manage,’ he said. ‘I even cook the odd meal.’
‘I’ll have to do something to earn my keep,’ she responded flippantly.
Amusement gave way to some other, less easily defined emotion. ‘You won’t have to earn anything.’
He went from the room before she could come up with a reply, leaving her to the conclusion that she’d caught him on the raw with the unthinking remark. She found the idea reassuring in the sense that it suggested a certain vulnerability on his part: a way through, if she worked at it, to the inner man she needed to find if this marriage of theirs was to stand any chance at all of succeeding.
Whatever his feelings, he had them well under control by the time he brought the coffee in. Jessica eyed him over the rim of her cup as he took a seat on the far side of the three-seater sofa, the ache inside her increasing by the moment as she viewed the strong lines of his profile, the breadth of shoulder and muscular upper arm structure emphasised by the cream silk shirt he was wearing—the firm line of his thigh beneath the fine linen trousers.
Unable to stand it any longer, she put her cup down on the table in front of them, and reached to do the same with his, moving over to put both hands about his face and draw it down to reach his mouth with hers.
The sofa was more than big enough to accommodate them, the cushions supportive, the passion all-consuming. It was some time before either of them could gather the strength to move.
‘That,’ Zac murmured at last, ‘was worth waiting for! Not that you did,’ he added with a hint of humour. ‘And there was I trying to be all considerate, thinking you’d be too tired!’
‘I’ll never be too tired for this,’ she claimed huskily.
‘Let’s hope I can live up to demands, then.’
There was something in his voice that gave her pause for a moment, but she wasn’t sure enough of herself to start probing for possible hidden meanings.
‘As if,’ she said, ‘there could ever be any doubt about that!’
‘As if,’ he echoed drily. He planted a fleeting kiss on her lips, then eased himself upright. ‘You’ll find everything you need in the en suite. I’ll take the guest room shower.’
Jessica had thought he might suggest they share a shower, the way they’d done that morning while waiting for room service, but the cabinets here weren’t really big enough, she supposed, to hold two people.
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