Her Marriage Secret

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She could see Jake swallow hard. ‘Haven’t seen him in years.’ The indifference in his icy tone shook her. They’d been so close. She would have thought nothing could come between the two of them; they were inseparable. The times Danny would drag Jake off to the pub or to a party…

She shook herself. ‘So how’s work?’ She knew that would get a response. For Jake there was nothing more important. She swallowed another mouthful of lasagna and felt it struggle down her throat.

‘Do you really care, or are you just humouring me?’

‘Of course I’m interested to hear what adventures you’ve found yourself over the last three years.’ She felt she needed reminding of what had held a higher priority than she had, so she could crush the flutters coming from the vicinity of her heart.

Jake raised an eyebrow. ‘As you know I went to Delhi. That was for a gas pipeline. The job dragged on and when I got back you were gone. Well and truly gone.’

She could hear the bitterness in his voice and concentrated on her plate. She swallowed the brick in her throat. ‘Go on.’

He explained how he’d gone from one construction site to another, until it had all blurred into one conglomerate called work. The way Jake spoke it seemed the passion he’d once had for his work was missing. Either that or he was unwilling to share it with her. She didn’t blame him if that was the case.

Jake put down his spoon, his half-eaten gelato melting in the bowl. ‘So what happened, Meg?’

She took a big breath. ‘I didn’t want to be left alone, Jake. My father had done it long enough. I couldn’t do it again.’

‘That’s it?’

‘It was enough,’ Meg whispered hoarsely, her voice threatening to abandon her completely. She wanted to scream at him that he had no idea what it was like to be alone, to wait and then finally, when you thought you’d get some attention and love, something better came up—and it was back to the waiting. And waiting was rejection all over again. Hovering around the front window, the phone and the mailbox for any word from him.

‘Look, I don’t know whether I ever actually said it, but I’m sorry about your dad. I loved him too.’ Jake reached a hand over the table, enclosing hers in his warmth.

A delicious shudder heated Meg’s body. She looked up and her heart lurched madly at the heart-rending tenderness of his gaze.

‘I know.’ She put down the wine. ‘It must have been hard for you to be there—’ She choked on the words. She knew only too well now what had gone on in the last few minutes of her father’s life.

‘I’ll never forget that moment.’ Jake faltered. ‘When that chain slipped and that pipe fell…I’ll never forget.’

Tears sprang into her eyes and she wiped them away jerkily. That moment had changed her whole life. If Jake hadn’t been there; if her father had been standing a metre to one side; if she’d seen the truth before she’d married Jake…

She didn’t dare look at Jake. She couldn’t, just in case she broke down and told him everything—opening herself up again to him and paying for it later.

The silence between them hung heavily, becoming harder and harder to penetrate as the minutes ticked by. Meg’s mind fumbled for something to say. Anything to say.

‘So when is Vivian arriving?’ she blurted.

Jake snapped his eyes to hers, then fixed them on the bill on the table. ‘Oh, um…at six…tomorrow evening.’ He dropped some notes onto the bill and stood up.

‘I’ll make an appointment for her on Friday, then.’ Meg rose, wrapping her black cardigan around her shoulders. Pain squeezed her heart at how easily she’d been replaced in his life—if she’d ever been a part of it at all.

He put a hand around her shoulder, letting it drop to the small of her back as he steered her out of the restaurant.

The touch of his hand was almost unbearable in its gentleness, reminding her again of all she’d lost.

‘I’ll take you home.’

‘No!’ The last thing she wanted was Jake anywhere near her house. ‘I’m fine. I don’t live far. A taxi is fine.’

‘If it’s not far, then there’s no argument.’ His voice was firm, final, and he showed no sign of relenting as he nudged her towards the parked cars.

They walked down the footpath and Meg’s mind rattled around in circles. Mixed feelings surged through her. Half of her wanted to heave the hard truth from her shoulders onto his; the other wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and wait until he was gone again.

Jake stopped beside a black BMW.

Meg was surprised. ‘No four-wheel drive?’

‘I’m not your father, Meg.’ His expression darkened with an unreadable emotion.

Meg looked away. She knew that! Every inch of her knew that. How was she going to survive the drive with him when already the tension between them was making her ill?

He opened the door for her and she slipped into the car. The heady new leather smell hit her first, and then the opulence of what appeared to be a brand-new car. The seat cushioned her perfectly, and the dashboard was a myriad of controls that blurred into insignificance as Jake claimed the driver’s seat beside her.

The spacious car suddenly felt cramped. The leather scent mingled with the scent of his spicy cologne, igniting Meg’s senses, reminding her body of what it had once known, what was so close to her again.

She breathed slowly, willing herself to keep her attention away from him, away from his muscled thighs so close to her. The fabric of his trousers stretched taut as he worked the clutch, gunning the motor to life and slipping the car into motion. One hand held the wheel, the other was on the stick shift…large hands and long fingers that Meg recalled being as gentle and persuasive as they were hard and strong.

The journey seemed to take for ever. When he finally pulled up outside the terraced house she couldn’t help but expel her breath in relief.

‘My driving that bad, is it?’

‘I’m sorry.’ She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. He must think her an idiot. ‘Not used to it, I guess.’ Better to let him think he was a crazed driver than for him to know how much her body longed for him.

Jake cast a long look over his shoulder and ahead, down the dimly lit, deserted street, and then at her home. ‘I’ll walk you to your door.’

‘Thanks, but I’m fine. I can get to my own door without help.’ She could see there was a light on through the lacy curtains of the front windows. The outside light shone onto the intricate paintwork she’d had done to bring the worn old masterpiece back to her former glory. The house was brick but all the trims were timber, now a glorious rich cream.

‘A gentleman wouldn’t have a lady go to her door alone in the dark.’

‘What gentleman?’ she scoffed, trying to lighten the mood between them. ‘I don’t see one.’ She looked around the pristine car, and outside, up and down the quiet street, wishing fervently that Jake would just let it go and drive away.

‘You’re not looking,’ he said in what sounded like all seriousness, and he alighted from the car before she could say anything else.

‘Oh, really?’ she called after him. She dug her nails into the soft leather of her handbag as Jake opened her door. ‘I can do it myself.’

‘I have no doubt of that. But I’d like to show you how my manners have improved.’ He held out his hand to her.

Meg eyed it suspiciously before surrendering hers to him. She felt the surge of blood from her fingertips to her toes—he was radiating his charm and she had to be mindful not to succumb again.

He released her and cupped his hand gently under her elbow, steering her up the shadowy path to her door.

His touch was torture; her traitorous body responded instantly with shivers down her back. ‘I’m sure Vivian is thrilled with your manners.’ Meg needed to remind him as well as herself where his loyalties lay to still her body’s frenzy.

Jake didn’t falter.

Meg crossed her fingers. Nearly there. Her heart beat faster with every step closer to her front door. She wanted desperately for him to go, to turn around right there and speed off in his car, without looking back and definitely without going any closer. But she knew it was useless. Any more argument or protest would make him suspicious.

Meg extracted her elbow from his touch as soon as she reached the doorstep. She fumbled for her keys in her bag, cursing them under her breath for being so elusive at a time like this.

‘Well, thanks for a lovely evening. I hope you didn’t mind me being honest with you.’ She hoped she sounded calm and composed.

‘Not at all. Though I sort of expected a bit more.’ He regarded her with a speculative glance. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’

A cry from inside made Meg cringe.

‘What was that?’ There was an edge of concern in his voice. He tilted his head and looked at her uncertainly.

‘A cat?’ Meg prayed he’d accept it and leave.

‘There’s no way that sounded like a cat.’ She could see his jaw clench in the soft light, and his eyes narrowed and bored into hers as if he could hunt for an answer in her face.

The cry sounded again, more urgent, curling Meg’s stomach into knots. ‘I share the place with a girl with a baby,’ she blurted. She shoved the key into the lock and turned it.

‘Meg?’ Jake said hesitantly.

She paused, turning to him. ‘Yes?’ she asked innocently.

The door flung wide. The young girl’s eyes were wide and full of concern, the toddler on her hip reaching out. ‘Thank God you’re back. He’s been crying for you for ages. He just won’t settle.’ She thrust the little boy into Meg’s arms, ignoring Jake next to her.

‘Mama,’ the toddler cried. He wrapped his small arms tightly around Meg and buried his face in her neck.

Meg couldn’t bring herself to look at Jake. What could she possibly say?

CHAPTER FOUR

JAKE’S mind whirled at a sickening speed. Meg so tense, making excuses…a child…this baby boy…Meg a mum…Every drop of blood seeped to the pit of his stomach.

A wild giddiness attacked him. His baby…?

He clenched his hands and tried to still the onslaught of feelings flailing around inside him. He had to think clearly, rationally, not jump to any rash assumptions.

Logic always helped him through his difficulties at work, had always worked before—there was no reason for it not to work now.

He raked his hair with his hands and eyed Meg warily. She wouldn’t have left him if she was pregnant. She wasn’t like that. Surely to God she would have told him if she was pregnant with his baby, would have known he would never turn his back on her. If he was his.

‘Meg.’ His voice was barely a whisper.

She stiffened as though he’d struck her.

‘I’ve got to get going.’ The sitter grabbed a cardigan off a chair by the door, appearing oblivious to the bombshell she’d dropped.

Meg seemed to suddenly register the young woman. She turned to her and shifted the little boy to her hip. ‘Thanks. Ring you later. About tomorrow.’

Jake barely noticed the girl step past him. He forced air into his lungs. All he could do was stare at the little bundle of human being wrapped in Meg’s arms and at the woman he’d wronged. So badly.

He should have spent more time around kids. He could do the maths in his head if only he knew how old this baby was.

One thing was for sure. She wouldn’t have had time to meet another guy, have a nine-month pregnancy, then a baby this sort of size and a business all in the time they’d been apart. He clamped down on the hot fist of pain in his gut. She couldn’t have!

Meg stepped into the hallway. The light reflected well off the high ceilings and the ornate plasterwork, lighting up Meg’s face. She was tense, almost harrowed, her brow creased and her eyes wide.

The ache was unbearable. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her, kiss away her fears. He could make it right. He had to. ‘Where’re you going?’ His voice erupted too sharply, too demanding.

Her head snapped around. ‘Inside.’ The baby made a gurgling noise, his tiny chubby fingers gripping her tighter. Meg straightened and glared at him. ‘I don’t consider standing on the doorstep a long-term activity.’

Jake raised his hand, reaching out to her as she turned her back to him. ‘Meg?’ he pleaded. Couldn’t she see what this was doing to him?

She finally turned, halfway down the hallway. ‘You’d better come in for coffee, then.’

‘Something stronger may be a good idea.’ He tried to joke. Anything to wipe that pained expression off her face; anything to see her smile.

She glared at him. ‘I don’t keep anything stronger in the house. You could go to the pub.’

And not come back. The unspoken insinuation hit him in the chest with a disquieting resonance. He covered his response by striding into the entrance and closing the door firmly behind him. He was going to get answers. Here and now.

‘Meg?’ He sounded like a broken record and hated himself for it. ‘How old is he?’

‘Nearly two.’ Her voice shook.

His heart skittered. Why was she so upset? Surely she knew he’d love her to have had his baby? Unless…his best mate Danny had been doing a lot more than just looking out for her while he was away…

Cold fury squeezed his heart. The gaping emptiness seemed as if it would swallow him, just as it had done when he’d found Meg gone.

‘Is he—?’ He swallowed hard, the words refusing to form. ‘Is the boy—?’