Nothing Changes Love

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It wasn’t what she wanted; she wanted to be held in his arms and sleep with her head on his chest, have him tell her how much he loved her, tell her it wasn’t her fault they had lost the baby, but she couldn’t say any of those things. Instead, in a small, tight voice, she looked straight up into his puzzled eyes and said, ‘Yes, I would prefer to be alone, if you don’t mind.’ She noticed the flash of pain in his expression before he quickly controlled it.

‘Dr Bell said to pamper you, so all right.’ His dark head lowered and she knew he was going to kiss her but deliberately she turned her head away and his lips brushed her cheek. ‘Goodnight, darling,’ he said softly. She felt him leave the bed and a few seconds’ silence before the door closed with a soft thump.

What had she done? And why? She didn’t know. The huge bed was lonely without Jake, and slowly the tears trickled down her cheeks. She didn’t recognise the person she had become, and, as she sank into an exhausted sleep, her tired mind gave up trying to find an answer.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Lexi seemed to move through the days in a world of her own. Oh, she functioned all right on a purely practical level, but on an emotional level she was numb, haunted by guilt because she had lost the child. Not even Jake could get through to her.

The first morning back at Forest Manor, he had been all concern, refusing to leave for London, until on the Wednesday evening he insisted on taking her out to dinner, trying to cheer her up. They dined at Number 19 Grape Lane in York, the first place they had ever shared a meal together, but the exquisite food tasted like sawdust in her mouth, and she heaved a sigh of relief when Jake finally suggested returning home.

As she slipped her nightdress over her head, a soft confection of satin and lace, Jake walked into the bedroom. She lifted her head, and eyed him across the wide expanse of the large bed. He was fresh from the shower, his dark hair slicked back across his proud head, his body gleaming golden, naked except for a short white towel slung around his hips, his long sinewy legs planted slightly apart. He looked like every woman’s dream of a lover, but to Lexi he appeared as a threat to her blessed numb state. She watched wary-eyed as he walked around the bed to stand in front of her.

His strong hands curved around her upper arms and he eased her towards him. ‘Lexi, we have to talk. You’ve slept alone long enough; it’s becoming a habit.’

She tensed her body rigid in his hold.

‘Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart. I know it is too soon for lovemaking.’

‘How thoughtful,’ she snapped curtly.

‘Give me some credit, Lexi, but you have to understand, separate beds are not the answer to your problem. You need care and comfort.’ His dark head bent towards her.

‘Not now,’ she said starkly, and watched as Jake’s proud head reared back.

‘Then when, Lexi? You hardly talk any more.’

‘I do, I worked in Reception today for a couple of hours, and thoroughly enjoyed it.’ And she had. Jake had been working in his study and she had walked through to the hotel just as a party of French tourists arrived. She had felt quite animated for a while, getting back to work.

‘You can talk to strangers, but not to your husband?’ he queried silkily, his mask of concern slipping to reveal his frustration. ‘For God’s sake, Lexi, you have to snap out of it.’ His fingers dug into her flesh and she winced, her head lifting fractionally in time to catch the flare of frightening anger in his dark eyes, quickly controlled.

‘It’s hard, I know, Lexi, but we have to try and forget. When I first met you the one thing I noticed, above your beauty and your voluptuous little body—’ his dark eyes swept lingeringly over her from head to toe and then back to her upturned face ‘—was your eager appetite for life, your vibrancy; don’t let this one set-back knock all the life out of you. I want my wife back as she was. I want us to get back to normal as quickly as possible,’ he declared frustratedly.

‘If what you say is true,’ she opined with remarkable calm, considering his naked chest was scraping gently against the delicate fabric of her nightgown over her softly rounded breasts, ‘I think you should return to London tomorrow. After all, for the past couple of months you’ve worked in the city all week, only returning home at weekends. That’s normal for us.’ Her huge violet eyes held his gaze and she watched his eyes darken almost to jet, feeling the tension in his hard body. She thought she heard him murmur, ‘I need you,’ but she must have been mistaken as, with a faint sigh, Jake slid his hands up her throat and cupped her small face.

‘Yes, whatever you want.’ And, holding her head steady, he closed his firm, sensuous mouth over hers in a hard, possessive kiss. He straightened abruptly. ‘And God knows the business certainly needs me, even if you don’t.’ And he left, a defeated slant to his broad shoulders.

After that night, Jake returned to the London apartment and his head office, and Lexi slipped into a regular routine: she worked a few hours every day in Reception, and at weekends Jake returned home.

He took her out for dinner, and to the theatre in York; he even insisted on them spending a day at Castle Howard, but nothing could snap her out of her lethargy, and the separate bedrooms remained... Meg tried as well, warning her that she was a fool to leave her husband alone with the lovely Lorraine all week—she was just asking for trouble. But Lexi refused to listen. If Jake slept with Lorraine, it was no more than she had always suspected, she told herself, and refused to admit there was anything wrong.

She worked, didn’t she? So what if she was a bit quiet? Surely it was allowed after all she had suffered. And she wrapped her grief around her like a shroud.

* * *

Lexi opened her eyes slowly and turned over in the large bed, just for a second she felt a pang of something like regret that Jake’s hard masculine body wasn’t there beside her. She sighed deeply and, pushing the tangled mass of her flame-coloured hair from her small face, she stretched and sat up. She looked around the room. A few short months ago, when the renovations were first finished, this room had been her pride and joy; she had chosen the decoration, a soft blend of peaches and cream saved from being too feminine by the heavy antique mahogany furniture. The summer sun streamed through the window, dancing into every little nook and cranny. It was a gorgeous summer day, and then she remembered the date—it was a Wednesday, her day for a check-up with Dr Bell, but also it was the day before her first wedding anniversary.

Dr Bell took one look at her and demanded to know what was wrong. Lexi broke down and told him: her guilt over losing the baby, her distaste for sex, even her suspicion that Jake was having an affair with Lorraine. Three hours later, after much good advice, such as ‘try taking a holiday’, Lexi found herself sitting on the afternoon train heading for London, and Jake.

She watched the patchwork of the countryside sliding past the carriage window in the hot summer sun and she felt as if she had awakened from a long sleep. Not so much sleep as nightmare, she admitted ruefully. Dear Dr Bell had explained everything: she had been suffering from hormonal depression and the fact that she had lost the baby and was consumed with guilt about it had made her worse, prone to suspicion, irrational... But once the doctor had convinced her it was a quite common reaction to a miscarriage, she had suddenly felt rejuvenated.

Lexi had taken great care with her appearance, for the first time in weeks. Her red hair shone like living flame and cascaded down her back in lavish curls. The smart, sleeveless plain mint-green silk sheath she wore clung lovingly to her slender curves and ended just above her knees, revealing a goodly amount of shapely legs; on her feet she wore high-heeled white pumps and she carried a small white clutch bag in her hand containing her passport. A hastily packed suitcase was on the rack above her head. She was going to surprise Jake, and persuade him to let his super-efficient Lorraine look after the business while he accompanied Lexi to Paris for the rest of the week, a repetition of their honeymoon a year ago. It would be perfect...

The first hint that Lexi’s plan was not going to go smoothly came as the train ground to a halt, half an hour away from King’s Cross station. Lexi heard with dismay that the train was delayed because of a bomb scare at the station, and to make matters worse a glance out of the carriage window showed the blue sky turn to black and the heavens open in a storm that would have rivalled Noah’s. She consulted the slim gold watch on her wrist and sighed. She would not catch him at the office, but still, she told herself, it didn’t matter. She would catch him at the apartment; they had spent many a happy hour there when they were first married.

Dreamily she recalled the first weeks when they were so close. Jake had told her all about himself. He was a self-made man, and a bastard, he had declared on their second date, but luckier than most. Apparently, his mother had fallen in love with a married man when on holiday on the continent, and Jake was the result. The married man, to give him his due, had provided for the mother and child. He had paid for a Victorian terraced house in London for them, and every month a cheque arrived, though the man himself never put in an appearance. When Jake was sixteen the money had stopped coming, and they had only been able to assume the man had died. Jake had left school and begun working on building sites and, after the death of his mother four years later, he had taken his first step into the business world, by converting the three-storey house into apartments.

Lexi smiled reminiscently; they had been lying naked in bed in their Paris hotel and she had teased him about being a self-made millionaire at thirty. Laughingly he had responded, ‘If you married me for money, as Lorraine would have me believe, you’re in for a shock. Every penny I make I reinvest; a paper millionaire need not necessarily have spare cash floating around. But don’t worry, I won’t see you go hungry.’ And, leaning over her satiated naked body, he had murmured throatily, ‘Take a bite of me any time, darling.’

The train started with a jolt, jerking Lexi out of her reverie; she was surprised to note they had been delayed well over an hour. Still, soon she would see her husband, and she hugged the thought to her with secret delight.

Before getting a taxi from the station she took time to purchase from one of the small boutiques a bottle of Jake’s favourite aftershave. Kindly the assistant gift-wrapped it for her. Not a very exciting or original anniversary present, but the best she could do at short notice. Ten minutes later, she was sitting in the back of a taxi speeding through the streets of London.

With a light step she dashed across the pavement and into the entrance of the mansion block that housed Jake’s apartment, dodging the sheeting rain. The lovely summer day had deteriorated into a very wet and windy night. Still, nothing could dampen her spirits and, with suitcase in one hand and bag and gift in the other, she dashed up the flight of stairs to the first-floor apartment.

She placed her suitcase on the floor and, taking her key from her bag, let herself into the cosy flat. A short hall with a telephone table and cloak cupboard was thickly carpeted in a deep, dark red. Silently she moved along the hall; she stopped at the hall table and deposited the parcel on it and the suitcase at her feet, and then took a step further to the living-room door. She reached out to open it but it was not closed and swung half-open at her touch, and then she froze.

Jake was already at home, and not alone. A small balcony with various large green houseplants partly obscured the door from the two people sitting side by side on a large, curved, black hide sofa in the sunken lounge. But Lexi could see all too clearly. Jake and Lorraine, a bottle of wine, and two glasses on the table beside them, but, more damning than that, they were both wearing only towelling robes.

She stood numb with shock, the rainwater dripping from her long hair, running icily down her spine, her thin dress no match for the storm outside. But the storm in her heart was worse. She listened in open-mouthed horror as her life dissolved around her.

‘It’s no good, Lorraine, I just can’t tell Lexi. At least not yet. She’s just lost a child, for God’s sake! She will be so hurt...’ Jake’s deep voice sounded harsh in the stillness of the room.

‘You’re being ridiculous, Jake. She has to know some time and if you don’t tell her she’ll find out anyway, and that will hurt her a hell of a lot more. It is impossible to keep a thing like this secret.’ Her scarlet-tipped nails reached out and curved around Jake’s arm, and Lexi, from her vantage place at the door, flinched as though she had been struck.

‘I’ve told you before, Jake, you’re far too protective of Lexi. She is a twenty-year-old woman, she has lost a child; she knows the world is not all sweetness and light. These things happen and there’s nothing anyone can do about it. You cut your losses, and try again.’

‘You don’t understand, Lorraine. I made a promise to Lexi when I married her. What am I supposed to say to her? “Sorry, darling, but circumstances have changed, and it’s a tough old world out there. Sorry I’ve got to break my word, but I’m sure you understand...’” he drawled sarcastically.

‘She will understand, Jake, and it’s not as if you’re leaving her with nothing; she’s a sleeping partner in the business—half of all you make is hers. Personally, I always thought she was a gold-digger anyway. I told you so when you insisted on marrying her. She might jump at the chance of being rich in her own right...I know if I was in her position I would.’

‘Lexi has been protected all her life; she’s not like you.’ Jake’s dark head turned to the woman at his side. ‘That’s why you make such a damn good PA: you’re as tough as any man and mercenary to boot, but fortunately Lexi is not.’

Lexi had seen and heard enough. ‘It’s not as if you’re leaving her with nothing,’ echoed in her head. How could she have been such a fool? Her husband and his PA were having an affair; they were actually discussing how he was to divorce her. For all Lexi knew it had been going on since long before she had met Jake. Suddenly it was blatantly obvious, she realised with numb acceptance. Jake had only married her for Forest Manor.

She recalled their wedding-day, when she had mentioned eventually settling at Forest Manor and Jake’s look of shocked surprise. She had naïvely assumed, with their marriage and Jake’s promise to pay her father’s debts, that the house would stay a house. But Jake had quickly put her straight. It was still essential that the place be turned into a hotel, though he did promise they could keep a private wing for themselves. Lexi, so in love, had of course agreed.

So many little things suddenly made sense. At first, when the hotel was completed, Jake had insisted he could work as easily in Yorkshire as London. But almost as soon as her pregnancy was confirmed suddenly business was hard and he needed to be in London all week. Now she realised Jake must have wanted out of the marriage from the minute the hotel was up and running and making money for him. No wonder the pair sitting on the sofa before her had been so negative about Lexi’s pregnancy. While she was devastated at the loss of her child, her swine of a husband had probably been laughing with relief. It was this thought more than anything that gave Lexi the strength to do what she did next.

Straightening her shoulders, she walked out on to the small balcony but did not descend the steps to the couple below. Standing above them gave her some sense of superiority, even if it was just an illusion.

Jake saw her first and jumped to his feet, swinging around to look up at her. ‘Lexi, what are you doing here?’ His dark face was flushed, and for once he looked less than in complete control as his strong hands tugged at the belt around his waist holding his robe together.

Lexi’s violet eyes narrowed to mere slits of purple ice. ‘I called to tell you I’m going on a little holiday with Cathy, a friend from school, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation.’ By this time Lorraine had stood up next to Jake. Lexi almost choked. The woman was wearing Lexi’s robe, and it was too small for her, or perhaps, from a man’s point of view, it was perfect, barely covering the other woman’s large breasts.

‘Lexi, let me explain.’ Jake moved towards the stairs.

Imperviously, Lexi held up her small hand. ‘There is really no need, Jake. I heard everything, and I hate to disillusion you, but you are wrong about me, and Lorraine was right. I really don’t care about you breaking your promise to me. I would much rather have the money.’ If Lexi had any lingering doubt about the perfidiousness of Jake it vanished, as she recognised the look of pure undisguised relief that spread over his handsome face.

‘You heard it all, everything, and you really don’t mind...?’ He smiled up at her. ‘Thank God for that! I was dreading telling you. You’ve been so down lately, losing the child and everything; I just never imagined you would be so sensible. I think this calls for a drink. Champagne even.’ And holding up a hand to her he said, ‘Come on down, and we can all celebrate.’

Celebrate! The heartless swine, but then, why was she surprised? She had never been a match for the sophisticated couple in front of her, and perhaps in her heart of hearts she had always known that. Only once had she mentioned to Jake that he seemed very close to his PA and he had burst out laughing, though he was flattered that Lexi was jealous. The bastard! She swore under her breath, but not by a flicker of an eyelid did she reveal her true feelings; instead she responded smoothly, ‘I’m afraid I haven’t time, the taxi is waiting downstairs...’

In three steps Jake was beside her. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t leave just like that! Lexi, I knew nothing about you taking a holiday.’ His strong hands reached out for her but she took a hasty step back into the hall, she grabbed her suitcase and headed for the door. Jake caught her as she opened the door.

‘Wait, Lexi, I refuse to let you go off like this; we have things to discuss,’ he declared adamantly. ‘You’ve been ill, for God’s sake!’

‘You have no say in the matter any more. You broke your promise, and now I’m breaking mine. Go back and celebrate with Lorraine.’ Her face a cold mask, she stared straight at him. ‘As for me, I never want to see you again.’

If she had slapped him, she couldn’t have shocked him more. His hand fell from her arm and all the colour drained out of his face. ‘You don’t mean that, Lexi, you’re being childish. I thought you said you understood... Sit down, have a drink and...

‘Call my solicitor in York with the divorce papers,’ she cut him off, and spun around.

‘My God! You don’t care, not for me, the hotel...Lorraine was right all along, you mercenary little bitch...’

But Lexi barely heard him. She was free, out of the door, and running down the staircase, her suitcase banging against her leg as she moved and the tears streaming down her face. She vaguely heard Jake’s harsh voice shouting after her but she did not stop running until she had put a couple of streets between herself and her louse of a husband.

Finally she waved down a cab and collapsed in the back seat. ‘Just drive around, please,’ she murmured.

‘You’re the boss,’ the driver said flatly.

The tears dried on her face, her violet eyes huge and blankly staring inward... ‘Childish,’ Jake had called her for not accepting that he wanted to divorce her with the sophisticated élan he expected from his women.

Hormonal depression, she thought with dry irony, What a joke! Deep in her subconscious, hadn’t she always wondered what the dynamic London businessman saw in her? Why a man of Jake’s obvious wealth and charm would marry a naïve young woman from Yorkshire? She had always sensed the ruthless streak in him but had convinced herself it would never be turned on her. Jake loved her! And that was the biggest joke of all. He had swept her off her feet, used her body in lust, and even that hadn’t satisfied him for long.

She groaned, a small whimper of sound. All her suspicions about Jake and Lorraine had been confirmed in one horrendous evening. Jake had probably been making love to Lorraine every time he was in London, while Lexi, as the little wife, was in happy ignorance, working in the hotel miles away. Lexi closed her eyes briefly to shut out the pain; she would not give in to it, she vowed silently.

Dear heaven! While she was losing her child Jake and Lorraine had most likely been in each other’s arms... She couldn’t bear to think about it, and, opening her eyes, her mouth a tight white line, she made a silent promise. Jake had hurt her for the last time...

Her mind was made up. She had used her old school chum’s name on the spur of the moment earlier, but actually it was a good idea. The thought of Cathy was comforting. They were both children of diplomats and had spent five years together at the same convent school in Sussex. They had shared a flat in London for a year but had not been in touch since Lexi had dropped out of college. But Lexi was pretty sure Cathy still had the same apartment. She gave the cabbie her friend’s address, and half an hour later Lexi was being warmly welcomed by an amazon of a girl with green hair into an Earl’s Court apartment that looked like a bomb had hit it.

‘Hey, you hardly look the happy mum-to-be. What’s happened?’

Lexi collapsed on the beaten-up sofa, and between her tears told Cathy everything...

The following day she made a long phone call to her solicitor in York, advising him that soon he would be receiving divorce papers from her husband, and instructing him to act on her behalf, to accept whatever Jake said without query, but on no account to let her husband have the new address she would forward to Mr Travis as soon as she was settled.

With the old man’s condolences ringing in her ears she replaced the receiver, and, with a grim smile for Cathy, said, ‘Right, to your parents’, and then as far away from England as I can get, and if by any remote chance you bump into Jake Taylor you have never seen me, and have no idea where I am. Promise...’ And Cathy did.

CHAPTER THREE

LEXI stepped out of the lift at the ground floor, her glance sweeping professionally around the elegant marble foyer, lingering slightly on the view of the dining-room through large double doors. Yes, all was serene; the few guests who had opted to lunch in the hotel were being attended to with the expert efficiency expected of the staff at the Hotel Le Piccolo Paradiso.

As manager of the small, exclusive hotel it was Lexi’s job to make sure everything ran smoothly, and even now, when she was off duty and on her way down into Sorrento for the rest of the day, she could not help checking everything was in order.

Today it was slightly more than that, she admitted to herself with a wry smile. She was meeting Dante for lunch and he would be expecting to hear if she was going ahead with the divorce. It was still a niggling puzzle to Lexi why Jake Taylor, in almost five years, had never instigated divorce proceedings. It just didn’t make sense. The last night in London she had heard Jake and Lorraine discussing how to break the news to his wife of their involvement and they had even got around to discussing the money side of divorce, and wondering if Lexi would accept it. When she had faced Jake he had made no attempt to deny anything, was delighted she had overheard and was going to be sensible and actually suggested she join them in a drink.

For years she had been expecting to hear from Mr Travis, her solicitor, that Jake had approached him for a divorce but it had never happened. When Dante had asked her out a few months ago, she had decided it was time she got back into the world of male-female relationships, and to do so she had to be free. Finally, a week ago she had rung Mr Travis in England and, after a long conversation with the lawyer, she had confirmed in writing her desire to start divorce proceedings on the five years’ separation statute. This very morning she had received a letter from her solicitor confirming that the proceedings were progressing on her behalf.

Dismissing the problem from her mind, she strolled over to the reception desk and in her usual fluent Italian asked Franco, her young assistant manager, if everything was in order.

‘Si, Lexi.’ His dark brown eyes swept over her appreciatively, taking in the rich tumble of golden-red curls flowing down her back and the seductive silhouette of her voluptuous figure outlined in a brief blue cotton jersey scooped-neck shift dress. Her shapely legs were bare and golden as was the rest of her exposed flesh. Five years in Sorrento and she had matured into a stunningly beautiful woman from the slim, rather solemn girl who had first arrived. Franco sighed dramatically. ‘Meeting Signor Dante? I think he is a very lucky man.’

Lexi grinned in acceptance of the compliment. ‘Forever the charmer, Franco,’ she quipped. ‘Ciao.’ And her strappy blue sandals tapped out her jaunty step as she crossed the marble floor and stepped outside into the brilliant blaze of midsummer sun.

She stopped for a moment beside the little Fiat Panda—it was a company car but Lexi considered it hers—she stared out over the roof of the car at the view before her. It never failed to lift her spirits, she thought musingly. The hotel was perched high on a hill overlooking the bay of Naples. The isle of Capri was visible on the left, an exquisite jewel set in a sea of azure. With a contented sigh, Lexi opened the car door and sat in the driving seat.

Why worry? she told herself. According to the solicitor, in six weeks’ time she could divorce Jake Taylor on the grounds that they had been apart for five years; she didn’t even need her husband’s consent. Dante should be satisfied with that. Very soon she would be officially free...

She started the little car and spun along the elegant drive lined with orange and lemon trees and turned right at the main gates on to the road down into Sorrento. She was singing softly to herself as she swung the wheel expertly around the first of half a dozen hairpin bends that zig-zagged down the hillside, only to gasp as, with lightning speed, a black Bugatti sports car swerved violently to pass her, only missing her car by inches.

The same blasted car again! Stupid macho oaf, she thought scathingly, as she registered the brief outline of a dark, greying man behind the wheel of the gleaming monster of a car. But, once more steadily driving along, she had the same uncomfortable feeling that there was something vaguely familiar about the driver of the Bugatti. She had seen the car a few times in the past few months. It was hard to miss; at first she had thought the driver might have been a guest at some time. But the hotel was small—only twenty luxuriously appointed suites, strictly for the very wealthy and discerning traveller, and she knew virtually all the guests, past and present.

She had never actually got a good look at the driver. But somehow she had the strangest feeling she knew the man on a more personal basis. Which was ridiculous when she thought about it; people with the sort of wealth that could afford a Bugatti were not in her social circle. Dante, her boyfriend, was comfortably off, owning two jewellery shops—one in Sorrento and another in Amalfi. He was a good, hard-working, serious-minded man and would make her an excellent husband and father to her children.

A shadow darkened her violet eyes, as she realised with a sense of shock it would be exactly five years tonight since she had lost her child. She had never completely got over the miscarriage, and sometimes in her darkest moods she couldn’t help asking herself if she had finally instigated divorce proceedings herself and was contemplating marrying Dante, more because she still had a desperate longing for a child, than through any great love for the man himself.

She dismissed the unsettling thought from her mind. Anyway, Dante hadn’t actually proposed yet, she smiled wryly, counting her chickens again! A bad policy, she remonstrated with herself, as she manoeuvred the car through the hectic lunch-time traffic in Sorrento and down to the Marina Piccolae. She had arranged to meet Dante at the Dolphin restaurant, a long wooden structure that stretched out on wooden stilts from the steep cliffs into the sea and served excellent fish dishes. She parked the car on a small cobbled side-lane and walked around the curve of the old port.

A tender smile curved the corners of her full mouth as she watched the local children playing in the sea. It didn’t seem to bother them that there were fishing boats tied up haphazardly around the water’s edge; in fact it appeared to add to their enjoyment as, like fish themselves, they jumped and dived off the boats.

Sorrento was a stunning town, built over a flat plateau that rose precipitously from the sea. On the top of the steep cliffs the big hotels had lifts cut through the rock and down to the base and the sea. Small beaches with large rectangular wooden pontoons greatly increased the available sunbathing areas and, for the swimmer, access to the sea itself, but at quite a substantial charge to the public. Certainly more than local children could pay.