Wife in Public (10 page)

Before Jordan had to leave for his family meeting the next morning, they had a happy, relaxed breakfast together and made plans for him to spend the next week
end on the rose farm with her. Ivy drove home feeling brilliantly alive, hoping they could make a lovely self-contained world together that nothing could spoil.

She knew it was a rather silly hope.

Other things would inevitably intrude.

But she was determined to enjoy what she could with Jordan while she could.

O
N
Monday, Heather was cock-a-hoop over Ivy’s capitulation to a relationship with Jordan Powell, insisting that his persistence proved he was really, really attracted, and the fact that Ivy had enjoyed her time with him showed it to be the right step to take. And when he came to the farm next weekend, could she please, please, please meet him.

Sacha called late in the afternoon to report that no roses had come and what did that mean? Had Ivy met Jordan? Had he persuaded her into seeing more of him? Given an affirmative reply, Sacha was delighted, bubbling over with a list of advantages to be had in associating with such a man, uppermost of which was experiencing a far broader and more civilised way of life than Ivy had been leading on the farm.

Ivy didn’t mention the cruise to either woman, thinking it was probably too far in the future to count on, even if Jordan did manage to get them places on it. Who knew what would happen between now and then? She was confident that Heather and Barry could take over running the farm and managing the business on short notice and would be happy to do it for her, if and when required. She simply couldn’t shake the fatalistic feeling that this harmony with Jordan was too good to last.

Each night during the week he called her to chat for half an hour or so, just normal conversations about what they’d done throughout the day. Without going into nitty-gritty details, he told her the blackmail threat to his sister had been dealt with, a reasonable divorce settlement agreed upon and Olivia was off to a health spa for some recovery time. And hopefully she would grow some armour against being taken for a ride again.

There was definitely a downside to being incredibly wealthy, Ivy thought. On the other hand, when Jordan arrived at the farm on Friday evening and presented her with confirmation that a stateroom had been secured for them on a cruise in May, she couldn’t ignore the suspicion that he’d used the power of wealth to obtain it.

‘Did we luck into a cancellation or did you bribe some one to give up their trip, Jordan?’ she asked, searching his eyes for the truth, wanting an
honest
answer.

He shrugged. ‘I made an offer. Someone took it. What other people choose to do doesn’t concern us, Ivy. What matters is we’re going.’

It didn’t feel right. ‘You’ve spoiled their plans. They would have been looking forward to the cruise. Don’t you have any conscience about that?’

He frowned. ‘I didn’t force their choice. I guess they thought they’d have a lot more spending money for another trip.’

‘How much more?’

He waved a dismissive hand. ‘It’s irrelevant. It’s done.’

‘But I should pay half of what you paid,’ she argued, unable to shake a sense of guilty responsibility.

‘No!’ He shook his head emphatically. ‘I made the decision. I pay the price.’

‘We didn’t have to go,’ she protested, still uncomfortable with how it had been arranged. ‘I
want
to.’ He scooped her into his embrace, one hand lifting to stroke away her frown as his eyes bored into hers. ‘
You
want to. Let it be, Ivy.’

Looking at him, feeling him, wanting him, the temptation to let the issue slide pounded through Ivy’s mind.
Let it be.
Only a last little niggle made her mutter, ‘I wouldn’t have minded waiting.’

‘This is our time, Ivy,’ he murmured seductively, his lips grazing over hers as he added, ‘Let’s make the most of it.’

Our time…

Her heart sank a little at those words, carrying as they did the implication that he expected their time to be limited. By the end of the cruise their relationship would have lasted four months—long enough for Jordan?

But didn’t she have the same expectation?

Her body craved what he could give her.

Make the most of it
…yes.

She couldn’t fault Jordan over anything else that week end. He showed a keen interest in the operation of the rose farm—how it all worked, the standard orders from florists, hotels, big business houses, the more random number of private clients like himself, though he was never to be again, the greenhouses, the packaging room, the refrigerated store of fudges which were supplied by a local woman who’d made an at-home business out of cooking them, the computer system for sales. She enjoyed explaining it all to him.

Graham and Heather came to lunch on Saturday, and Jordan impressed both of them with his appreciation of their contribution to the success of the farm. He didn’t present himself as a playboy at all, talking of his own
experience with employees, saying how much he valued those he trusted to get the job done. Graham was quickly at ease with him and Heather barely stopped short of drooling—Jordan was so gorgeous!

When the cruise was mentioned, both of them were enthusiastic about a break from the farm for Ivy and assured her they would look after everything.

Ivy let herself relax and enjoy every minute with Jordan. He made it easy, being the perfect lover in every sense.

Again he telephoned her every night during the week, keeping their connection strong. He arrived by helicopter on Saturday morning and flew her to Port Macquarie, a beach resort on the north coast of New South Wales where he was building a new retirement village and nursing home. He shared his vision for it with her, impressing her once again with his caring for the elderly. They ate in the best restaurants the town had to offer and slept in a luxurious apartment that overlooked Flynn’s Beach.

He never seemed bored by the weekends he spent on the farm with her, and on his alternate weekends he invariably took Ivy somewhere special—to the Blue Mountains and the amazing Jenolan Caves, to Port Douglas and the Great Barrier Reef, to the Red Centre and Uluru, to the Hunter Valley vineyards. Cost, of course, was no object to Jordan and Ivy decided not to quibble about it. He was taking her on a fantastic ride—the ride of a lifetime—and even if it only lasted six months, which was his uppermost limit for an affair, she was certainly living brilliantly for a while.

More and more she shied away from thinking about the end. Her pleasure in Jordan’s company was so intense, the idea of coming to an end was too frightening
to contemplate. She loved him, loved everything about him. She lived for the next time they’d be together.

The week before they were due to leave for the cruise, Ivy decided to treat herself to a shopping day, wanting to dress up for the dinners on the ship. Her mother suggested she trawl through the boutiques at Double Bay and meet her for lunch at a bistro she named, since they hadn’t seen anything of each other since the gallery exhibition. Having been told of this plan, Jordan invited her to stay overnight with him at Balmoral at the end of the day so she could parade her purchases, which would be fun for both of them.

Ivy was in a happy mood, wandering around the Double Bay shopping centre, looking at the window displays before deciding what might suit her. She was trying on a slinky violet pantsuit in the Liz Davenport boutique, admiring the cut and line of it in the wall mirror, when Olivia Powell walked in with another woman, both of them dressed in high-fashion gear.

Having not met Jordan’s sister since the unpleasant scene in his house, she hesitated over whether to acknowledge the brief acquaintance as it would remind Olivia of things she probably wanted to forget. On the other hand, this was the sister of the man she loved. It didn’t seem right to ignore her presence.

While Ivy was still dithering over this social dilemma, Olivia glanced around, her gaze picking up Ivy’s direct stare at her in the mirror. Her perfectly plucked black eyebrows arched in surprise. Then a look of amusement settled on her face.

‘Well, well, if it isn’t Jordan’s farm girl,’ she drawled.

Her companion’s attention was instantly drawn to Ivy. ‘Who?’ she asked.

‘Darling, you are looking at the reason why Jordan has been shunning the social scene.’

The other woman goggled at Ivy with avid curiosity. ‘A farm girl?’

‘Mmmh…so my mother told me when I asked about his new interest.’

‘Then what is she doing here?’

‘Good question. Maybe he’s decided to bring her out of the closet and wants her decently clothed.’

There was no attempt to lower their voices. Ivy heard every word and the unfriendliness of Olivia’s attitude, the scorn in her tone, made her stomach churn with a sense of sick vulnerability. Jordan wasn’t here to fend off his sister’s nastiness and Ivy knew, even before Olivia started strolling towards her, knew from the malicious glint in her eyes, that she was about to be subjected to a humiliating public attack.

Pride made her stand her ground.

Olivia closed in, her mouth curling with a savage mockery. ‘Did you stick Jordan for a dress allowance, Ivy?’

Embarrassment was burning her cheeks. Her mouth was dry. She quickly worked some moisture into it, lifted her chin, and answered. ‘No. I’ve taken no money from Jordan at all, Olivia.’

‘Oh? Investing in yourself, are you? Showing him if you can look the part, you might get further than his bedroom?’

Ivy shook her head, finding it difficult to counter such virulence. ‘Why are you gunning for me like this, Olivia?’ she blurted out. ‘I’ve never done anything bad to you.’

‘Your kind has taken too many bites out of me. No doubt you’re as sweet as pie to Jordan, just as Ashton
was to me, but let me tell you, my brother is the clever one. You’re wasting your time and your money on him. You can crawl into his bed, but you won’t get past his head which is screwed on very tightly. Put one foot over the boundaries he’s set and you’ll get dumped, just like all the rest.’

Boundaries…keeping her in his closet…no social contact with
his
friends…the realisation that Olivia was telling exactly how it was hit into Ivy’s heart like a sledgehammer. She couldn’t protest. It was pointless even carrying on a conversation. She looked into Olivia’s blue eyes—Jordan’s eyes—and knew what she had known all along but this time much more painfully. She was not of their world, never would be.

‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘I appreciate your caring.’

At least Olivia’s startled look at her response was some balm to her pride.

‘Please excuse me,’ she went on with as much dignity as she could muster. ‘I need to change back into my own clothes. Rest assured I’ll be out of your brother’s life very soon.’

She didn’t wait for a reply, heading straight for the change room, no longer interested in buying stylish clothes. Thankfully Olivia and her companion were gone when she emerged. Not wanting to run into them again and grateful that the bistro Sacha had named was in a back street, she hurried there, sitting over a cup of coffee while she waited for her mother, silently berating herself for falling in love with a man who should have always remained a fantasy.

Sacha arrived, beaming pleasure in this outing together until she saw there were no shopping bags at Ivy’s feet. ‘You haven’t found
anything
you like?’ she wailed in disappointment.

Ivy managed an ironic smile. ‘I met Jordan’s sister and lost the plot.’

Her mother frowned and sat down. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I mean I realised how big a fool I was for falling in love with him and I should end it right now.’

Sacha gaped at her in horror. ‘But, darling, you’re going on this marvellous cruise with him next week.’

She couldn’t, not feeling so torn up inside. Tears welled into her eyes. She hadn’t cried since her father’s death, but this was like a death, too, the killing of hopes and dreams she should never have let into her heart. Embarrassed at breaking down, she covered her face with her hands and tried desperately to choke off the heaving sensation making her chest unbearably tight.

‘Oh, Ivy!’

She barely heard the anguished cry from her mother, but she felt the warm hug around her shoulders and the stroking of her hair. The caring gestures made it more difficult to bring herself under control but she finally managed it, hating the thought of making a spectacle of herself in a public place.

‘I’m okay,’ she bit out. ‘Sorry. Please…do sit down again.’

‘Ivy, I know I haven’t been the kind of mother you probably wanted but…let me help.’

‘There’s nothing to help. It was a mistake.’

Sacha resumed her seat on the other side of the table as Ivy blotted her face with a hastily grabbed tissue from her handbag. Aware that her mother was viewing her with anxious concern, she took several deep, calming breaths and forced a rueful little smile.

‘I should have kept my head. That’s all,’ she said with cutting finality.

‘Love isn’t about keeping one’s head,’ Sacha said wry ly. ‘It wasn’t sensible for your father and I to fall in love with each other—a hippie artist and a Vietnam veteran who needed a colourful butterfly to give him some zest for life again. It was even less sensible for us to get married, but you know, Ivy, I’ve never regretted it. Robert was the only man I’ve ever loved and I’m glad I had that experience.’

Ivy sighed, remembering how she’d argued herself into the affair with Jordan…as an experience worth having. ‘I guess the difference is…Dad loved you back.’

‘Are you sure Jordan doesn’t love you?’ Sacha queried. ‘He has been very, very attentive to pleasing you.’

‘More in lust with me than loving me, I’d say.’

‘Love and lust can be intertwined.’

Ivy shrugged. ‘On his weekends at the farm we went to a couple of dinner parties at my friends’ homes. They wanted to meet him and he was always a charming guest.’ She looked bleakly at her mother. ‘On my weekends with him, we always went away somewhere. I’ve never been introduced to any of his friends. Only to his sister by accident. What does that tell you?’

‘Maybe that he wanted you to himself.’

‘That’s not what Olivia thinks. Fit for the bedroom but not for being a partner in any public sense.’

‘What she thinks does not make her an authority on what her brother feels,’ Sacha retorted with an odd look of determination. ‘You should confront him directly about this, Ivy. All those roses he sent me…he wanted a chance with you. At least give him the chance to explain how
he
sees your relationship.’