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Taking a deep breath, she lied, ‘No.’
‘It’s a wonderfully scenic area of woods and mountains and hot springs that’s very popular with New Yorkers. That’s why I decided to build a health spa there.’
With a touch of derision, he went on, ‘It allows the jaded city-dwellers—or at least the ones who can afford it—to relax and be pampered in picturesque surroundings.’
‘You sound a little...disdainful...’
‘Though I love the lake, I’ve always found the club atmosphere somewhat cloying—not to say claustrophobic. A couple of months ago, when an old house that I liked in that area came on to the market I decided to buy it. That way, when the renovations are completed, I’ll have somewhere that’s really my own to go to when I feel the need to get away from the city...’
Caroline was just starting to relax and breathe freely again when he added, ‘My stepbrother liked to get away from the city, too, but he usually stayed in a hotel north of the lake. He was having a break up there when he met the woman who became his wife. I gather they bumped into each other in the hotel lobby. It seems to have been love at first sight, at least as far as he was concerned... He fairly doted on her...’
Why was Matthew telling her all this? Caroline wondered painfully. It was almost as if he was deliberately tormenting her.
‘Though I imagine he had no idea what she was really like...’
There was anger and bitterness in Matthew’s voice now, as he added, ‘I’m sorry to say Caitlin’s mother had neither scruples nor morals.’
Caroline shivered. It was quite plain that, even after all this time, Matthew still hated his stepsister-in-law.
Signalling the end of the conversation, he pressed a button on the dashboard stereo and the plaintive sound of ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ filled the car.
Feeling drained, emotionally exhausted, Caroline put her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.
She must have slept for some time, because when she opened heavy lids they were pulling into the grounds of the luxury spa complex that she had first seen almost four years ago.
Then there had been blizzard conditions. Now the scene was serenely beautiful. Snow covered everything in a soft white blanket and odd flakes were still drifting down—a light scattering from what seemed to be an almost clear sky.
Well-lit roadways spread from the central area, where a tall Christmas tree hung with sparkling baubles stood in front of the main entrance. Light spilled from the long windows and lay in pools of gold across the snowy expanse.
Caroline was surprised when, instead of drawing up in front of the steps, Matthew took a road to the left and stopped outside a single-storey chalet-type house, set apart from the rest.
Catching her look of surprise, he asked curtly, ‘Something wrong?’
‘No... I just presumed that we’d be staying in your apartment in the main building.’
‘How do you know I have an apartment in the main building?’ The question was quiet but lethal.
‘Well, I—I don’t, of course... I—I just thought...’ Stammering helplessly, she broke off.
‘Well, as it happens, you’re quite right. I do have a suite of rooms kept for my own use, but there are only two bedrooms—which would have meant you sharing with Caitlin. Or me.’
Watching the burning colour pour into Caroline’s pale face, he added sardonically, ‘I didn’t care for the first option, and I thought you might not care for the second.’
Opening the car door, he got out, his feet crunching on the fresh snow. Alarmed and disturbed by his black mood and her own stupid blunder, she followed him.
Strapped into the car seat she shared with Bamaby, Caitlin was still sleeping soundly. Lifting her out with care, Matthew carried the child and bear into the chalet and through to a small, cosy room fitted out as a nursery. Then, while Caroline tucked the pair into bed, he went outside again to deal with the baggage.
When she had switched on the monitoring system and turned the nightlight down low, Caroline kissed the little girl’s sleep-flushed cheek before going back to the attractive open-plan living area.
The middle of the room was sunken, and a couch piled with soft cushions queened it in front of a copper-canopied central fireplace, where a log fire blazed merrily. To one side was an all-mod-cons kitchenette, its fridge well stocked with food.
Caroline took off her coat and hung it behind one of the sliding doors in the hallway, her thoughts still in a turmoil. She had expected to be in a hotel atmosphere, surrounded by people, and the idea of being alone here with Matthew was both wonderful and disturbing.
Not to mention dangerous. Since he’d returned from his trip his mood had been so strange and intense. So quietly explosive.
She remembered his, ‘...if I find it impossible to keep my hands off you...’ and shivered. He would only have to kiss her, touch her, and she would be lost...
When they’d first met, though she’d been already half involved with another man, she had looked at him and loved him.
He had fulfilled some deep, primitive need in her, and as she recalled her overwhelming and ecstatic response to his lovemaking perspiration dewed her forehead and made her palms grow clammy.
That depth and intensity of feeling had seemed to be mutual. But, while sweeping her off her feet with a passionate urgency, he’d been kind and caring and heartbreakingly tender.
In the intervening years, however, he seemed to have developed a streak of cruelty, and she didn’t doubt that if she gave him the slightest opportunity in his present frame of mind he was capable of tearing her apart...emotionally speaking...
The door swung open and Matthew was back, loaded with luggage, snowflakes melting on his dark hair. He put her case in the bedroom next to the nursery, then went to dispose of Caitlin’s things and his own.
It had been a long drive, and, knowing he must be ready for a drink, Caroline filled the kettle and put it on to boil.
She was spooning coffee into the pot when she heard his footsteps returning, and, glancing up incautiously, she met his eyes. For a long moment they looked at one another in silence.
A drop of melted snow ran off his hair and trickled down his lean cheek. She wanted to lift her hand and wipe it away. Instead she asked jerkily, ‘Can I make you some supper?’
‘I don’t expect you to look after me as well as Caitlin.’ His voice was brusque.
Flushing a little, she said, ‘It’s no trouble, really.’
‘In that case, thank you.’
While she made a plateful of cheese and ham sandwiches he sat on the couch, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, gazing into the flames. His dark face wore a sombre, brooding look that boded ill for the holiday.
Caroline put the coffee pot and sandwiches on a tray and carried them over to a small table nearby. As she turned away he demanded, ‘Where are you going?’
‘I’m a bit tired,’ she answered awkwardly. ‘I thought I’d go to bed.’
‘Sit down and have a cup of coffee and a sandwich.’
‘She shook her head. ’I’m not hungry, and coffee this late will keep me awake.’
‘Then stay and talk to me.’ It was an order.
Biting her lip, she took a seat on the other end of the couch and asked as levelly as possible, ‘What would you like to talk about?’
‘You. I’d like to know why you’re calling yourself Miss Smith.’
Shock made Caroline catch her breath. Somehow she answered, ‘Because it’s my name.’
‘Miss—when you’ve been married?’
Every drop of blood drained from her face. ‘What makes you think I’ve been married?’ Her voice sounded high and strained.
‘Remember the day I took you to pick up your belongings? While you were packing Mrs Amesbury showed me a snapshot of you and the twins, taken when you’d only been there a short time. Perhaps you recall the one I mean? You were sitting with them on your knee, an arm around each of them...’
When she merely stared at him, her aquamarine eyes grown dark with apprehension, he went on, ‘Facially it’s not particularly good—you have on those heavy spectacles and your head’s bent—but your hands are in focus, and quite clearly you’re wearing a wedding ring.’
She’d taken it off and put it away for good shortly afterwards.
‘So tell me about your marriage,’ he pursued.
‘There’s really not much to tell.’ Her voice was brittle as ice. ‘We were both young, and it didn’t last long.’
‘Where is your husband now?’
About to lie, to pretend he’d left her, Caroline hesitated. Suppose Lois Amesbury had told Matthew what little she knew?
Her lips so stiff they would hardly frame the words, Caroline admitted, ‘My husband died.’
‘So why does a respectable widow need to call herself Miss Smith?’
‘I decided to leave the past behind me and revert to my maiden name. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really am tired.’
Before he could make any further move to detain her, she jumped to her feet and hurried away.
If her precipitate departure was unwise, she couldn’t help it. She had come to the end of her emotional resources and could stand no more.
CHAPTER THREE
AFTER the traumas of the evening, sleep refused to come, and Caroline tossed and turned until dawn lightened the sky and the first bird began to sing. Then, exhausted, she slept heavily for more than an hour, wakening to bright sunshine and the appetising smell of coffee.
When she’d showered and pulled on slim-fitting wool trousers and a cream sweater, she went through to the living area to find Matthew.
A tea towel knotted around his lean hips and a lock of dark hair falling over his forehead, he was cooking breakfast while Caitlin fed Barnaby Bear and herself with fruit and cereal.
His glance flicked over Caroline, taking in her air of fatigue and the shadows beneath her clear aquamarine eyes. ‘Good morning.’ He sounded relaxed and almost friendly, the black mood of the previous night banished. ‘Did you sleep well?’
‘Very well, thank you,’ she lied, adding, ‘I’m sorry I’m up late.’
‘No problem,’ he returned easily. ‘We’re on holiday.’
Strictly speaking she wasn’t, Caroline thought, and bent to give Caitlin her usual morning kiss. As she straightened she caught Matthew’s satirical glance and flushed.
He made no comment, however, merely remarking casually, ‘Did I mention that the spa has a special swimming pool for beginners?’
As she half shook her head he added, ‘I’ve asked for our best instructor to be standing by, so that after breakfast you can have your first lesson.’
Dismay filled her. She had hoped to find some way of wriggling out of it, or at least postponing things for as long as possible.
‘I haven’t got a swimsuit.’ Even as the protest left her lips she knew it was useless.
‘There’ll be a selection waiting for you.’ His tone brooked no further argument. ‘Don’t look so worried,’ he added, with a sudden edge to his voice, ‘you may find you’re a natural.’
As soon as breakfast was over Matthew took Caroline along to the leisure complex, which housed several blue and inviting pools on different levels, as well as a sauna and Jacuzzi.
On a kind of raised dais at the end of the teaching pool was a diving basin, and a group of youngsters were learning to dive, supervised by a tall blonde woman.
Outside it was a beautifully sunny day. Ice had formed lacy embroidery around the edges of the sapphire lake, and the trees looked as if they’d been sugar-frosted, while on the slopes the snow lay thick and even, patterned in parts with animal and bird tracks.
Inside, safe from the rigours of winter, the air was comfortably warm, and a pale sandy beach, complete with palms and flowering shrubs, gave the illusion of a tropical island.
The whole place had a sensuous sybaritic feel, while the poolside furniture and the bar-restaurant, with its palatial changing cabins, could only be described as luxurious in the extreme.
After Matthew had introduced Caroline to the young well-built instructor who was waiting for them, he cast a cursory glance over the swimwear on display, then left her to choose while he took Caitlin and Barnaby over to the toddlers’ activity centre.
By the time he returned she had changed into a modest one-piece suit, patterned with oranges and lemons on a white background, and a matching terrycloth robe.
She hoped that if Matthew did intend to swim he would join the experienced swimmers in one of the other pools. Her hopes were dashed, however, when he said, ‘You go ahead. I’ll join you as soon as I’ve changed.’
The handsome fair-haired instructor, who’d introduced himself as Brett Colyer, jumped into the shallow water and waited while she walked carefully down the steps.
Caroline had always enjoyed swimming and as the water flowed around her, silky, cool and caressing, she felt her spirits lift.
Once she was in the pool, and looking at her ease, Brett began to demonstrate various strokes. Her attention only partly on what he was saying, she saw Matthew arrive. Dressed in neat black trunks, his olive skin gleaming, his dark hair a little rumpled, he looked disturbingly attractive.
Very conscious of his unrelenting gaze, she tried to behave like a beginner as, following Brett’s instructions, she practised first floating on her back and then turning to do a few breast strokes.
When, after some patient tuition, she ‘managed’ to swim a width, Brett said enthusiastically, ‘Excellent progress, Miss Smith. You’re obviously a born swimmer.’
Matthew, who had just completed a couple of leisurely lengths, broke in drily, ‘I’m very pleased to hear it.’ He glanced at his waterproof watch. ‘Well, I think that’s enough for the moment. Thanks, Brett.’
Caroline added her thanks, and as the instructor left the pool Matthew turned to follow, pausing to say, ‘I’m just going to get dressed and check on Caitlin—make sure she’s happy.’
‘Oh, but shouldn’t I do that? After all, it’s what I’m being paid for.’
‘At the moment you’re being paid to learn to swim.’ His tone was uncompromising. ‘If you want to stay in the shallow end and try another width or two before you get changed, I’ll be back shortly.’
Despite the painful memories that had crowded in, just that one awkward width had brought back all her old delight in the sport. She longed to try a really fast crawl, to feel again the marvellous sensation of cleaving effortlessly through the water.
Instead, she was doing graceful but slow widths when she heard a shout and, looking towards the diving basin, saw a young boy standing on the edge peering into the water.
It was clear that something was amiss. The blonde who had previously been supervising the youngsters was nowhere to be seen, and no one else was near.
Caroline completed the width at racing speed and, hauling herself out of the pool, ran to the boy. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘It’s my brother...’ he blubbered. ‘She wouldn’t let him dive from the top board, so when she’d gone he sneaked back. I think he’s hurt himself, and I don’t swim too good...’ The words tumbled over each other.
Caroline took a deep breath and dived in, neatly and cleanly. A boy of about nine or ten was just struggling to the surface, choking and gasping.
Seizing hold of him, she instructed tersely, ‘Lie on your back.’
