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Authors: Sara Craven

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poor Alan he's suffered enough for one night. I … I made his nose

bleed.' She was laughing helplessly, and suddenly she was crying

too, sobbing until the sting of his hand across her cheek shocked

her into silence. She whispered, 'How dare you.' 'Quite easily.

You're hysterical,' he said coldly. 'And whose fault is that?'

Her hands clenched into fists in her lap. 'Who provoked every

damned thing that's happened this evening bringing that Marshall

woman across to meet me.' He said laconically, ' I thought it was

time you met.' 'All part of the civilised behaviour I've heard so

much about,' she asked wildly. 'Well she's an acquaintance I can

well do without. And if you'd bothered to ask her she would

probably have told you the same thing.' 'You're wrong,' he said.

'She's always wanted to meet you.'

There was a blank silence, then Laura said, 'She must be

twisted.' He shook his head, 'She's very sane and sensible.

Rather too warm-hearted, perhaps,' he added after a pause. She

said, 'But you of all people should be the last one to complain

about that.' 'Wrong again,' he said and there was silence. At

last, Laura said, 'May I ask you something? You..you no longer

have any reason to hide things from me.' 'Ask anything you want,'

Jason said, and there was an odd note in his voice. 'The quarrel

with your parents,' she said. 'Was that over Miss Marshall?'

'Yes,' he said. 'Were you working for Tristan Construction for

your father at the time?' He nodded. 'That had always been the

idea. I was the heir the only son, so my father's shoes were

waiting for me. I wanted to do an art course, but I ended up in

architecture instead.' 'That's a pity.' 'It was practical,' he

returned. 'At the time, I was quite prepared to continue painting

as a hobby.' 'And then you met Clare.' She bit her lip. 'We were

students together. When we got our degrees she came to work at

Tristans as well. The company was expanding rapidly at that

time.' ' I see,' Laura said quietly. 'No more questions?' There

was mockery in his tone, and something guarded too. She shook her

head. There were a million buzzing in her head, but there was no

reason why he should allow her to indulge her curiosity any more.

'After all this time it hardly matters, does it?' ' If you say

so.' His voice was flat and bitter, and she looked at him

quickly. He was reaching for the ignition, his face oddly

haggard. 'So I'll just drive you back to the shelter of kindly

Uncle Martin. That's what you want, I presume.' She said, 'Thank

you.' They were there almost before she knew it. He couldn't wait

to be rid of her, she thought. He couldn't wait to get back to

Clare, whose hold on him after all these years was as strong as

ever. As the car turned into the drive, she said suddenly, 'Why

don't you marry her?' 'Because she doesn't want to be married to

me,' he said. 'A thing you both obviously have in common.' The

note in his voice made her flinch. She said, 'But the children

Jason . . . ' 'Are well-looked after, and financially secure.' As

I was, she thought. But that didn't stop me wanting my own, real

family like other people had. She said, 'Have you ever asked

her?' 'Yes.' He switched off the engine. His hands gripped the

steering wheel. 'As a matter of fact, I did once, and she turned

me down. Satisfied?' He sounded raw, and she said hurriedly, 'Oh

God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't go on like this. I have no right to

ask . . . ' He said with a kind of controlled violence, 'Oh, yes,

my lovely Laura, you had every right. Only you never did, my

darling. You never asked any of the right questions—when it

mattered. Just stood there and accused me—let me know once and

for all just how low you rated me—our marriage—everything.'

He gave an angry laugh. 'No wonder that poor idiot lost his

temper with you when he found he didn't mean anything either. You

were lucky to get away with a torn dress.' She was trembling. ' I

didn't from you.' 'No,' he said softly, 'You didn't.' He turned

towards her. His hand brushed aside the edges of her dress,

uncovering her. The long fingers found the tiny clasp which

fastened her bra at the front and released it. His hand cupped

her breast, his questioning thumb discovering the hardening

nipple in a caress which made her whole body convulse in

pleasure. 'At times, my once wife, revenge can be more than

sweet.' He sat back, his eyes insolently assessing the

unmistakable evidence of her arousal. 'As you will discover

because I haven't finished with you. I'm going to make you sorry

for every hard word you said to me.' 'Does the truth hurt so

much?' Her face was burning. Her hands shook as she re-fastened

her bra. 'Truth,' he said contemptuously. 'What the hell do you

know about the truth? A l l those questions and yet you still

haven't asked the one that matters.' T don't understand . . . '

'No—and you never did.' The grey eyes looked at her grimly.

'And now I advise you to get out of this car while you still can.

Or I might turn the clock back to that day in the studio, and you

wouldn't like that. Would you?' Dry-throated, she said, 'No.' The

night air was warm, but she was shivering as she stood in the

shelter of the stone porch and watched the tail-lights of the

Jaguar vanish down the drive. Because no matter how much she

might try to deny it, no matter whether it was in anger or in

hatred, she knew that she wanted him still, and that she always

would. It was a long time before she fell asleep that night, and

the following morning she woke late and heavy-eyed. On her way

downstairs she encountered Mrs Fraser crossing the hall with a

tray of used breakfast things, and received a sour look and an

enquiry as to whether she wanted something to eat. 'Just orange

juice and coffee will be fine.' Laura despised herself for the

placatory note she heard in her voice, but Mrs Fraser never

failed to imply by her attitude that she was an outsider in the

house, and an unwanted inconvenience. She added levelly, 'But if

it's too much trouble, I can wait until Miss Celia comes

downstairs.' Mrs Fraser snorted. 'Miss Celia has had her

breakfast and gone out,' she announced and vanished towards the

kitchen. Laura glanced at her watch in amazement. Early rising

had never been among her cousin's failings, and it was hardly ten

o'clock. To her-surprise, Uncle Martin was still in the dining

room, staring frowningly into space over a cooling cup of coffee.

He roused himself sufficiently to give her a perfunctory

greeting, but his expression was still grim. 'Is anything wrong?'

Laura helped herself to orange juice from the jug on the

sideboard. He shrugged slightly. 'The usual problems.' He paused.

'Your ex-husband was on the telephone at some unearthly hour.' He

gave her an irritable look. 'Did you know he was planning to live

in the area?' 'It—was mentioned.' Laura sat down. 'God damn

him.' Her uncle relapsed into his brown study once more, until

interrupted by Mrs Fraser arriving with a fresh coffee pot which

she set in front of Laura with a subdued thump. He roused himself

again. 'Celia's gone out with him,' he disclosed abruptly.

'Looking at properties.' Some of the coffee Laura was pouring

spilled into the saucer. She set the pot down on the table with

more than usual care. 'You're allowing this?' she asked. He

shrugged again. 'How can I stop her? She's her own mistress. Oh,

I know what you're thinking,' he went on with a defensive wave of

the hand. 'But the situation is altogether different now.'

'Why?' Laura asked bitterly. 'Because Jason is now a rich man,

and not the ne'er do well you thought him when we were married?

Is it his money that makes the difference?' He brought his fist

down on the table. 'It's the power he wields. We need the work he

can bring us, and if Celia can help clinch the contract by

looking over a few houses for him, then she does it with my

blessing. Besides, she can look after herself. She's not a naive

child.' 'As I was?' Laura's lip twisted unhappily. 'I don't

understand you any more, Uncle Martin. The objections you had to

Jason on moral grounds still hold good. His—lady, Clare

Marshall, is still with him. In fact, they're going to occupy

this house he's looking for together.' He drank the rest of his

coffee, and pushed his chair back. 'His morals are no longer my

concern,' he said flatly. 'Not even if Celia becomes involved?'

She stared at him with utter incredulity. 'You surely don't mean

to encourage...' T don't mean to encourage or discourage.' He got

to his feet. 'Celia knows what she's doing. I wish as much as you

do probably more that this fellow Wingard had never come back

into our lives, but he's here, and there's very little we can do

about it. We just have to make the best of the situation.' Laura

got to her feet too, her eyes sparking with anger. 'I'm afraid

I'm not prepared tP-4p that. I think perhaps it's time I found

myself another job—moved right away from here.' On the other

occasions when she'd made this suggestion, there had been an

instant protest, but now he said heavily, 'Under the

circumstances, that might be a solution not of course that I wish

to drive you away, Laura.' His voice roughened slightly. 'You're

a good child, and I wish things could have been different. But I

did what I thought was best. At the time it seemed there was no

alternative, but now . . . ' There was a long pause, then he said

quietly, T hope one day you'll be able to forgive me, Laura.' She

watched the door close behind him, feeling utterly bewildered.

These sudden changes of mood were uncharacteristic to say the

least, and his attitude to Jason was confusing. Was he now trying

to say that he wished he hadn't interfered in her marriage after

all? It seemed unbelievable, she thought numbly, but so was his

reaction to Celia's involvement with Jason. A n g e r hostility

resentment, she could have understood, but not this kind of

resignation. And it was ridiculous for him to say that Celia did

as she pleased. Martin Caswell was an indulgent father, but he'd

acted in the past to prevent Celia from pursuing some course of

action which he strongly objected to, and it was impossible that

he actually favoured Celia having any kind of relationship with

Jason. He could stop it if he wanted to, she thought wretchedly,

so why didn't he want to? Was it really just for the sake of a

business deal, and if so, how far was he prepared to let the

relationship go? Laura shook her head. Whatever the answers were,

she would not be around to find out. Jason had said he would make

her sorry, she thought bitterly, and he'd chosen the ideal

method. Even the thought of him with Celia could produce an agony

too deep for tears. She could not bear to watch while Celia

flaunted her conquest in front of her, as she'd no doubt she

would. Perhaps she really wants him, she told herself wearily,

and perhaps he wants her, and he's not just using her to torture

me. It would be comforting to think that Jason had no idea that

she still had any feeling for him, but she cherished no such

illusion. She had given herself away in a dozen ways already, she

knew, and to run away would be the ultimate in self-betrayal, yet

what else could she do and preserve her emotional sanity? But

perhaps this time he would not follow, and she would be left

alone to find some kind of peace. Peace. She tried the word

aloud, experimentally. It was soft and gentle on her tongue. A

healing word for the wound she carried deep inside her. She

thought wildly. 'I'm too young to feel like this. I've still got

my whole life ahead of me . . . ' A life without Jason as bleak

and empty as a desert.

Laura pushed the letter back into its envelope and slid it across

the table to Bethany. 'Another "no",' she said with a sigh.

'That's four job applications and four negative replies. I might

BOOK: Act of Betrayal
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