скачать книгу бесплатно
He had no right to be! Surely he must know what an ordeal she’d been through, how hard it had been to hold herself together these past few months? She was his wife and she was in trouble!
‘Leo... I know it’s been hard for you—hard for both of us—but... right at this moment I need you,’ she said brokenly.
His bitter, glittering eyes slanted in her direction. ‘Is that how it works?’ he growled, and faced her at last, his face working with anger, the mouth that had so recently softened under Arabella’s now a hard, unpleasant line carved in Scottish granite. ‘I’ve needed you, Ginny. I’ve needed your support, your time, an understanding ear. I was happy for you to have a career but I didn’t expect it to take you over completely. And this trial and the rumours about you—’
‘Leo!’ she said quickly, terrified of where this was leading. ‘They’re not true...’ Her voice tailed away at his tormented expression.
‘Ginny,’ he said quietly, ‘you must know how deeply you’ve hurt me and my family.’
She turned away. Leo’s family had always unnerved her. His grandfather, the Earl of Castlestowe, had made it clear that he’d expected her to drop her career and concentrate on producing heirs.
‘I never wanted to hurt anyone you care about. I love you,’ she said unhappily, trembling, trying to remember how it had felt to be loved back. There was nothing but emptiness now—a blank feeling as if he’d wiped her clean and left a vacuum. ‘I married you because I couldn’t live without you. I still feel like that’
He thrust his hands in the pockets of his linen trousers and stood silhouetted against the huge, mullioned window, a picture of power, money and perfect lineage. Chills ran down her spine. He was regretting their marriage. She didn’t fit, never had done. Wrong class. Wrong blood. Oh, God! she screamed inside.
‘You seem to have managed fine without me for some time,’ he said huskily. ‘What do you think that tells me, Ginny?’
‘Please try to understand,’ she said, horrified at how far they’d drawn away from one another. ‘I love you but I need to work for my self-respect—’
‘We talked of children,’ he reminded her. ‘You knew how much I wanted us to have a child.’
Ginny winced. She was scared of motherhood and what it implied, because their child would never be hers to love. They wouldn’t be having a baby. They’d be producing an heir. And almost certainly her duty would be to bring up the Brandon heir according to the strict Brandon rules and regulations.
She knew something of Leo’s childhood: the nannies who’d ruled his life till he’d been sent to boarding-school, the cold baths and rigorous devotion to duty. Leo had touched her heart when he’d told her that his mother had never cuddled him and had died in a riding accident when he was five.
Her own childhood had been hell too. No way was she going to inflict misery on her own flesh and blood in the same way. When she had a child, she wanted to be free to give it the love that she and Leo had been denied. But first their marriage had to be strong.
‘You know why we delayed—’
‘Your figure. Your career,’ he said accusingly.
She stiffened. ‘No! that isn’t true! Leo, I never knew you could be so cruel—’
‘I was never cuckolded before!’ he said tightly.
She gasped in dismay and scanned the cold, bleak face for some sign of pity. None. Only that merciless glare. Pain seared through her. ‘No man has ever made love to me but you!’ she replied vehemently, her fingers picking fretfully at the pearl buttons of her suit. The curl of his mouth grew more contemptuous. ‘You have to believe me, Lao!’ she cried passionately, near to hysterics.
‘How can I ever know?’ he shot back.
The question shafted through her like a knife. Ginny raised sorrowful, gold-shot eyes to his, begging for a shred of affection that she could cling to. ‘I can’t prove anything,’ she said in a whisper. ‘Not to you, the public, my friends, your family, the courts. I was hoping—’ She broke off and took a moment to find control of her voice. ‘I lost the case,’ she croaked. ‘I have to pay nearly a million in costs,’ she continued, hoping for some hint that he might want to console her.
‘I told you not to resort to litigation,’ he said in exasperation.
‘Don’t men normally defend their wife’s honour?’ she asked, her near-hysteria making her sound a little sharp.
‘Against the tabloids?’ One peat-brown eyebrow expressed scorn and disagreement. ‘That’s not how it’s done, Ginny It would be tantamount to saying that their lies could have an effect. Ignoring them is more dignified. You went against my advice and now you’re reaping the consequences.’
‘And you mean to chastise me like a disobedient child?’ she retorted. ‘Can’t you see I need—?’
‘No. I won’t throw Brandon money at you any more. You have your own account; use it,’ he said flatly.
Tears trickled down her cheeks and into the corners of her parted lips. ‘Oh, drat!’ she rasped angrily, knuckling them away, not caring if her eye make-up became smudged. ‘Leo, I wasn’t asking for money; I’ll earn more if I have to—do shows, TV interviews, anything—but...I...’
Overwhelmed, she reached out her arms to him in a piteous gesture. He ignored her plea. She knew that he was stubborn. Once, he’d defied his family to marry her and had defended her when they didn’t rush to produce children as soon as everyone expected. And once he’d admired her success.
Now they no longer had the same goals, she thought miserably. Their lives were drawing apart. They had become strangers and he didn’t want to defend her any more.
‘Your career means a lot to you,’ he observed.
‘Naturally,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ve worked hard. It’s given me self-esteem, Leo!’
‘I know that. I don’t denigrate what you’ve done. I’ve been proud of you.’ His hooded eyes brooded on her. ‘But... you can’t be everything to all people and do it well, Ginny,’ he said in a gentler tone than before.
‘I had to try!’ she cried in exasperation. ‘Don’t you see? If I hadn’t kept my name up top and continued with the shows during the run-up to the trial, I’d have been yesterday’s face in the twinkling of an eye. And what else would I do?’ she asked hotly. ‘You don’t seriously think I could sit around all day discussing menus and arranging flowers, do you?’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ he growled.
Ginny drove her teeth into her lower lip, knowing that she’d been unfair. He’d never asked that of her. ‘What do you want from me?’ she asked.
‘Exclusivity,’ he rasped rawly.
She controlled the urge to wince. ‘I am yours. Wholly yours.’
‘Are you?’
Her mouth trembled. It was clear that he didn’t believe her. ‘My darling, can’t we start again? Please hold me. I need your arms around me so badly—’
‘And I’ve needed yours many times and you’ve not been there,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s not a marriage any more—’
‘It will be!’ she cried in panic, her hand pressing her chest where her heart banged painfully against her ribs. ‘It’s been a bad time but we can be together again—’
‘We both have to want that,’ he muttered.
Her eyes rounded in horror. His serious expression scared her. Cold to the bone, she dreaded to be told that he didn’t love her any longer. She tried to speak but could only croak out a plaintive little ‘Leo!’
‘It’s true, Ginny,’ he muttered, the line of his mouth as wintry as the atmosphere at Castlestowe. ‘I’m not sure you understand how to live and behave normally any more. Ever since you began to hit the big time, you’ve been spinning into orbit and getting more out of control as the years go by. And now you’re famous people fix things for you. Hair, teeth, nails. They wax your legs, drive you wherever you want to go, arrange your accommodation, whisk you to parties and even dress you!’
“It’s not like that!’ she protested. ’You and the public only see what the film crews want you to see! People dashing around trying to look important and making sure they get into camera shot!’
‘But it’s an unreal life,’ he insisted. ‘What the hell do you know about something as everyday as marriage? You don’t realise it takes nurturing and nourishing to keep it alive and on firel’ he cried, his voice rising. ‘Every time there’s a picture of you with some leering film star or politician I get sniggers from people I know, and I can tell they’re wondering if I believe half the things that are written about you! Then you have to go and defend your precious reputation in open court—and you lose!’ he roared. ‘Ginny, if you haven’t been sleeping with every PR man in sight and any fake-tanned actor who’s up for an Oscar, everyone else thinks you have—and that’s crucifying me!’
‘I know! I’m sorry! I really am!’ she wailed.
Was that it? Had his pride been wounded because his wife was under suspicion? Ginny wondered if he’d had to defend her to his tough old grandfather, apologising for the dreadful publicity. And Leo was hurt. She could see that now; there was pain in his eyes and the lines that ran to the corners of his mouth.
Hesitantly she took a step or two forwards till she was an inch away from him. The depth of his anguish reached out to her heart and she longed to throw herself into his arms, to comfort him—herself too. To feel the strength of him encircling her, protecting her. Even a fighter had to take a rest and she’d been battling for too long.
‘I hate that side of it!’ she said fervently. ‘You have to believe that—’
‘But will you stop taking one assignment after another without giving yourself a decent break?’ he demanded.
The question arrested her. Standing so close to him, her wan face uplifted, her famous tawny eyes wide with wonder, she knew that she wanted to. At that moment she’d had enough, and her job had evolved into a love-hate affair. But it had been her dream since she was tiny to be one of the top models in the world. She’d only just reached that status. Could she give it up and admit that she couldn’t take the heat?
‘I’ve never backed down. Never given up,’ she explained slowly.
Although there was a brief softening of his bleak mouth, he made no reply to her comment. Her troubled eyes searched his. He was scowling, pushing back the dark lick of hair that flopped onto his forehead, and she felt a rush of deep affection at the familiar gesture.
Her long neck arched as she gracefully raised her arms and rested them lightly on his shoulders, which relaxed an inch, and she realised he’d been tensing, waiting for her decision. Hug me, she pleaded with her eyes.
But his arms remained at his sides, his fists clenched in anger. ‘Do it. For me.’
Ginny’s heart fluttered at the stark request. Knowing Leo as she did, it was obvious that he was too proud to beg. All he could do was issue orders. It made her soften with loving empathy, because he couldn’t let go and neither could she. However much they had loved one another, there had always been a thin barrier between them, built by their childhood years of repression. And neither of them had ever dared to let their feelings fly.
But he had to understand what her life would be like without a career. ‘Modelling is all I’ve ever known,’ she whispered. The alternative horrified her, made her sick to the stomach, which was churning even now at the thought of abandoning her individuality and dedicating herself to the Brandon family’s needs and expectations.
‘I ask you again. Will you stop? It’s killing you, Ginny,’ he said gravely. ‘I married a woman with more flesh on her bones. A woman who had time to dance in the moonlight on the daisy lawn.’
It had been the night of their engagement. She remembered that occasion with a deep ache in her heart. ‘Oh, Leo!’ she breathed helplessly. ‘It can be like that again—’ She stopped, overwhelmed, tears forming in her soft eyes.
At last, he reached for her. His arms came around her and she sank weakly against his beautiful body with a groan of relief. The magic was still there, she thought, resting her head on his shoulder, her mouth nuzzling his throat above the soft collar of his casual blue shirt.
‘Can it, I wonder?’ he murmured against her scalp.
The warmth of his words washed over her silky white-blonde hair and sent shivers down her back. The sensuality between them burned into her, tightening the skin on her body and melding them together. It had been so long. Months. Suddenly she needed him, needed the hard, physical release of sex.
‘I know it can,’ she whispered, kissing his throat. And she pressed her palm against his heart, giving a shudder of delight when she found that its beat was bumping erratically against her hand.
‘When I married you,’ he growled, breathing harshly into her ear, ‘you were full of hopes for the future. Don’t deny that we planned children—’
‘That was before your family told me what obligations there were for the heir of Castlestowel And...’ She stifled a whimper of hunger. Leo’s hand was slipping slowly down her slender back towards her hip. ‘I—I didn’t know my career would take off so ferociously!’ she mumbled, trying to concentrate on her explanation. ‘I had no idea I’d be jetting around the world.
‘I feel tired of it all now,’ she admitted. He didn’t know what she’d been through. Perhaps if she told him... ‘Shortly before the trial,’ she said, lifting her heartshaped face up to his, ‘I did sixteen shows in six days—’
‘You didn’t have to.’ He wasn’t looking at her. His eyes were hooded again but she thought that they were fixed on her cleavage, visible above the V of her jacket. The cleavage was almost her signature. Unusual in a top model, she had breasts. And the designers always provided her with clothes that featured them.
Leo had loved that once. He’d feasted his eyes on her photographs and reached for her with a possessive triumph because she was there, beside him, and she was his wife. Who belonged to nobody but him. A shiver ran through her body when she remembered how he’d growled one night after making love to her, ‘I’ll kill any man who takes you from me!’
She watched him lick his lips and warmth flooded her loins. A feeling of devastating relief came with it because they would, could, must make up—now, before the dreaded tea with Arabella.
‘If I’d pulled out of the shows, I would have gone mad, just sitting at home and thinking of the trial while you were up at Castlestowe,’ she said in a low and husky voice. ‘And everyone would have thought I was hiding because I was guilty and ashamed. I had to brazen it out, don’t you see? OK, it wasn’t easy. It, half wrecked me. I had early make-up calls and fittings every one of those days. There were twenty-five TV crews backstage at Dior for starters. But...’
Leo’s firm hands pushed her back a little. ‘But?’ he asked with a frown.
‘It was exciting—is exciting,’ she admitted. ‘My adrenaline runs when I’m working. Besides, I don’t have a choice any more. I have to work if I’m to pay the legal costs. Being a wife and mother is a vocation,’ she said gently. ‘I want children, yes, but... not if it means living in remote Scotland with no neighbours for miles and miles. That’s what you want, isn’t it? Maybe when I’m older and I’m ready to settle down—’
‘I feel so angry, Ginny.’
They were both breathing in a heavy rhythm. Her breasts rose and fell against his hard, lean chest. Grim-faced, he detached one hand and slid it between them, undoing the lowest pearl button.
Maybe this is the way, she thought hazily. They’d get close, be united again. Another button slid free. Control was slipping from her grasp. The need and the hunger for Leo—to share his body, to be comforted by its closeness—was overriding everything else.
‘Give me a little time to earn the money for the costs,’ she croaked as his hand brushed her naked skin beneath the jacket. Desire filled his face. Desire for her. With Leo, she could face anything. Debt, relentless, grinding hours of work, public shame—anything. ‘I’ll be less preoccupied from now on. It was only the terrible pressure of the trial that caused the problems between us,’ she said, not too convincingly. ‘Now that’s over—’
‘You’ll be working twice as hard to keep bankruptcy at bay.’ Leo appeared to be engrossed in the tantalisingly slow process of working the last cluster of pearls through the buttonhole. The jacket swung free, exposing the swell of her breasts. Leo’s lips parted and he whispered in a slow breath of anticipation. ‘Beautiful. I’d forgotten how beautiful.’
‘Leo!’ she breathed, filled with joy.
He reached out with a questing finger to stroke each half-hidden curve. She threw her head back and moaned, suspended in delight. It was a long time since she’d been touched. Her appetite had been suppressed and now it seemed insatiable.
‘Ginny!’ he muttered, his voice shaking with a barely controlled passion. It might have been anger or desire or despair. She couldn’t tell. And she didn’t care. All she wanted was to be held in his arms.
CHAPTER TWO
SLOWLY Leo reached out to draw the jacket from her shoulders. He held its soft folds halfway down her arms so that it acted like a strait-jacket. His avid eyes devoured her high, trembling breasts and suddenly she flinched, distressed by the mixture of anger and lust in the way he studied her.
‘Love me,’ Ginny begged.
‘You want me to be your slave, like the others,’ he said brutally.
‘No! Don’t do this to me, please, Leo—’
He let the jacket slip to the ground. She made to cover her nakedness with her hands, too stunned to think of running away. And there was something compelling about the way he looked at her, something that caught in her guts and twisted and speared her with an undeniable need. Her lashes lifted and she begged him for love with her huge tawny eyes.
‘You want pity?’ he muttered. ‘Or are you acting as I’ve seen you act before, putting on a wistful face to dazzle your public? Hiding your real feelings...’
‘No,’ she whispered, shaking her head. It was heavy. Her whole body felt lethargic and languid. But he wanted sex, and anger drove him, not affection. ‘You know I find it hard to let go, that it takes me a while before...’
She gasped. His arm had drawn her to him. Deliberately he moved her body against his, lightly, tantalisingly, with the finesse of a master with years of experience. The softness of his shirt brushed her nipples and he groaned, giving them a delicate squeeze between his finger and thumb. Just enough to sharpen her hunger, to send needles of desire bursting into each breast. She heard herself moan, felt her pelvis contract and hated herself for being so easily controlled.
‘What are you?’ murmured Leo. ‘Who are you? Witch or angel? A false, heartless woman with an ego larger than Napoleon’s, or perhaps—’
‘I’m no angel. But I’m innocent,’ she protested, reeling under the torment of his fingers. Her breasts felt tight and hot, the flesh glowing for him. Beneath her frantic hands, his shirt moved over his satin skin and she had to force herself not to rip the buttons open and lay her mouth on his breast. Now she had to keep her head and defend herself all over again. To her husband. Or lose him for ever.
Taking a deep breath, she said jerkily, ‘I—I warned you when we married that the media would tell l-lies about me and...’
She lost the thread of her sentence. Her head turned from side to side in pleasure as Leo forced his thigh between her long, silk-clad legs and she couldn’t resist making a small, squirming movement because it might help to hold her need till she’d explained. And then, she thought hazily, they could make love freely, without hate and suspicion.
‘Oh, Leo!’ she whispered, knowing what he was going to do.
His hands were sliding down her hips. They reached the edge of her skirt and slowly, watching her, his velvety gaze flicking from her softly parted lips to her drowsy eyes, he wriggled it up till it was around her waist. Now there was only silk between her hot hunger and his linen-clad knee.
Leo’s jaw tightened when he looked down at the length of her exposed legs. Black Lacroix stockings topped with a deep band of Calais lace. Dove-grey satin briefs. ‘Hell!’ he growled thickly. ‘How could any man not be tempted by you?’
‘I—I freeze them off,’ she rasped, incapable of breathing steadily.
‘Irresistible,’ he said, smouldering grey eyes and brutally tentative fingers hypnotised by the gap above her stocking-tops.
Her pelvis pushed forward a little in demand before she could stop the movement and he smiled in triumph. Ginny closed her eyes in despair because he still didn’t believe that she had been faithful to him. His mouth brushed hers, making her tremble. His palms rotated on her nipples, warm, merciless, till they thrust in shameful dark peaks, elongating painfully, begging for the moistness of his mouth.
