The Millionaire's Christmas Wife Page 4

  She saw the flash of surprise in his eyes. ‘Can you deny it?’

  She wanted to shout at him, to pour all the hurt and anger and betrayal over his head in a bitter, acidic flood of hate, but that would be playing straight into his hands. She wouldn’t let him see how she was hurting; she’d rather walk on hot coals. And she wouldn’t make a scene, much as she would have loved to throw the rest of her cocktail into his face and march out of the restaurant.

  Miriam took a deep breath. ‘I want a divorce,’ she said expressionlessly. ‘That’s the only reason I’ve come here tonight. You can believe me or choose to think there’s still something between us—it doesn’t matter in the long run.’

  The words hung between them before falling like pieces of ice, the muted chatter from the other tables and soft music that was playing on the perimeter of their world for two.

  ‘You’ve changed.’ It wasn’t laudatory.

  ‘Yes, I have.’ She marvelled at the calmness of her voice, considering how she was trembling inside. ‘I’m no longer the foolish young woman who married you. Who believed you when you said we’d grow old together, have children, grandchildren…’

  ‘You were never foolish, Miriam,’ he said quietly. ‘Wary, unsure—just how unsure I’ve only come to appreciate in the last months. I thought when I gave you the space you said you needed you’d work things out for yourself but I hadn’t bargained for how deep the hurt over your father had gone. You don’t trust men, do you? Any men. Not even me.’

  Especially not you. Her chin rose. ‘In other words our separation is all my fault? You’re whiter than white, I suppose?’

  ‘I’ve never been whiter than white.’ He smiled rue-fully.

  Miriam stared at him, wondering how he could smile when her body was so tense it hurt. I can’t deal with this, she thought suddenly. I need to leave. I have to get out before I make a fool of myself.

  As the thought hit the waiter reappeared like a genie out of a bottle. ‘If you would care to follow me, your table is ready,’ he said smoothly, whisking their half-finished drinks onto the small round tray he was carrying and then preceding them out of the lounge and into the main restaurant.

  Miriam had no choice but to follow as Jay stood to his feet and took her arm. She glanced at him, trying to read his expression, but his face was wearing the cool, remote mask he could adopt at will. He obviously didn’t want her to know what he was feeling.

  Once seated at a table for two, Miriam glanced round the glittering room. It was elegant and chic, the quiet hum of conversation from the assembled diners and the light, easy music from the quartet in a corner of the restaurant making a pleasant background to a meal.

  Jay’s eyes were tight on her when her gaze came to rest on him. ‘I’ve missed evenings with you like this,’ he murmured softly. ‘Along with evenings at home, of course, Sunday mornings in bed with the papers, waking up together, walks on the heath—’

  ‘Don’t, Jay.’

  ‘Why?’ He swallowed the last of his cocktail. ‘It’s the truth, and if I can’t say it to my wife, who can I say it to?’

  ‘Your current girlfriend?’ Miriam suggested, as much to see his reaction as anything else.

  ‘I don’t have a girlfriend, Miriam.’ Jay’s smile said he knew what she was about. ‘I’m married, remember?’

  ‘It’s not me who has forgotten that.’

  The wine waiter appeared with the bottle Jay had ordered for the table. After Jay had given his approval to what turned out to be a richly flavoured red, the waiter poured a little wine into each of their glasses and then glided away.

  Miriam had used the time to remind herself that she couldn’t afford to let Jay see he could get under her skin. She had to remain aloof and composed; it was her only armour against his quick mind and charm.

  ‘Relax, Miriam.’

  His next words tested her resolve. Flushing, she forced herself to speak calmly when she said, ‘I am relaxed.’

  Before she was aware of it he had reached across the table and taken her cold hand in his, so close she could scent his male warmth. Straightening her fingers, which she only now realised had been clenched tight, he gently stroked her flesh. Tingles shot up her arm but she willed herself to remain perfectly still as he whispered, ‘Such soft, silky skin.’

  She wanted to tell him that he didn’t have the right to touch her whenever he liked, not any more. He had relinquished that last Christmas, but although the words were there she couldn’t get them past the lump in her dry throat.

  The tawny-gold eyes continued to search her face as the silence grew. Somehow Miriam managed to break their hold and turn her face away but Jay wouldn’t let her fingers go so easily. She still didn’t say anything, basically because she couldn’t. His touch was invoking so many memories, memories she had locked away and kept buried for ten long months.

  ‘Talk to me,’ he murmured huskily. ‘We have to talk, you must see that? We used to be able to say anything to each other.’

  She almost lost control at that moment. Pain and anger swept through her in equal measure and if they had been anywhere else she would have let them have free rein. How dared he remind her of how they had been, she thought with blind agony. When they had lived together they’d shared every thought, every problem, sometimes talking half the night away. He had been her rock, her fortress, and she supposed she had set him on some sort of pedestal in her heart, which had made it all the harder when she had had to face the fact that her idol had feet of clay.

  Easing the air past the constriction in her throat, she pulled her hand away. She was trembling and she prayed he couldn’t see it. ‘I don’t know what you want from me, Jay, but whatever it is, it’s no good. When I said it was over I meant it.’

  ‘I don’t believe that.’ He leaned back in his seat once more but didn’t take his gaze from her face. ‘I will never believe it.’

  ‘Whether you believe it or not doesn’t really matter.’ Her voice was calm but part of her was dying inside. It felt as though the pain and trauma of the night she’d seen him with Belinda was just as acute.

  She had been crazy to agree to see him like this, she told herself feverishly. She should have let the legal system take charge. She knew from her experiences through her work that once the machine began grinding little could stop it. Sentiment and emotion became lost under mountains of paperwork and the phrases the solicitors and legal experts did so well. Cold, clinical words that dissected and separated two lives with the minimum of feeling and fuss.

  ‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ There was a touch of incredulity in his voice now. ‘You’re actually going to let that spiteful woman accomplish what she intended. Can’t you see she wanted to come between us all along?’

  ‘Of course I see that,’ she bit back; she’d never imagined anything else. Just because Belinda had set her sights on him that didn’t excuse what he’d done, though.

  ‘And you’re going to let her win?’

  ‘This is not a game, Jay.’

  ‘You’re damn right it’s not.’ His voice was not loud but edged with fury.

  ‘I’m glad we agree on something.’ Her words were clipped, tight.

  For a moment she thought he was going to stand up and grab her and march out of the restaurant, but as she watched she saw him breathe in and out and take control of the anger that had etched itself into the handsome features. Slowly the mask settled into place. It was an abject lesson on the amazing will of the man.

  When he next spoke his voice was low and quiet. ‘I love you. Do you still love me?’

  Her eyes enormous, she stared at him. It was the last thing she had expected him to say.

  ‘Do you, Miriam?’

  For the first time since she had met him Miriam realised what had made him so powerful and formidable in business. She knew he had a reputation for ruthlessness but he had never been that way with her, not for a moment. But now the big-cat eyes were unblinking and predatory as they scoured h
er white face, looking for a chink in her armour, for any sign of weakness. Somehow she managed to lie. ‘No,’ she said.

  Even to herself she didn’t sound very convincing.

  His expression remained impassive but she thought she saw something in his eyes, a glimmer of reaction, but she couldn’t be sure. Nervously she reached for her cocktail and finished it to give her hands something to do, glancing across the beautiful room and wondering if anyone else felt as wretched as she did.

  ‘I’ll give you your divorce—I’ll even make it nice and easy for you—on one condition,’ Jay said silkily after a tense few moments had ticked by.

  Feeling as though she had been hit by a sledgehammer, which was totally illogical as she was the one demanding a divorce, Miriam stuttered, ‘W-what condition?’

  ‘That you convince me it’s what you really want.’

  ‘I’ve told you,’ she managed to say more steadily.

  ‘That doesn’t do it.’

  Miriam frowned. ‘If you don’t believe me when I say it, how can I convince you?’ Immediately she’d said it she knew she had played straight into his hands.

  His firm, sexy mouth mocked her with its wryness. ‘Come back to the apartment and live with me again for the few weeks till Christmas,’ he said easily, as though he wasn’t asking the impossible. ‘See how you feel then.’

  Her absolute amazement changed to outrage. ‘I can’t believe you just said that.’

  ‘Not as man and wife if you don’t want to share my bed,’ he said calmly. ‘You can have the spare room if that makes you feel better.’

  ‘It wouldn’t.’ Dark eyebrows rose, and in answer to the glitter in his eyes she said quickly, ‘What I mean is, I’ve no intention of coming back to the apartment whether I could stay in the spare room or not. And I would stay in it, of course, if I was coming back.’

  ‘Which you’re not,’ he put in helpfully.

  ‘No, I’m not.’ Suddenly she realised she hated that apartment. It had always been Jay’s, never hers. She had never felt at home there, more like a visitor who was being tolerated by the masculine surroundings and ultra-modern gadgets. Other girlfriends had been there, of course, she knew that. She had never had the nerve to ask him if they had slept in his bed but they must have done.

  ‘What’s the matter? What are you thinking now?’

  She hadn’t been aware that her thoughts had mirrored themselves in the painful twist to her mouth and the darkening of her soft brown eyes, but as always Jay saw too much. Swiftly she wiped her face clear of expression. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘Nothing didn’t put that look on your face,’ Jay said grimly. ‘Tell me.’

  What the hell! He’d asked for it. ‘I never want to step foot in the apartment again, if you want to know,’ she said with a flatness that said far more than a raised voice could have done. ‘It was never a home to me and it was always yours, never mine. I was merely a guest there.’

  Now it was his turn to be amazed. ‘You never said.’

  Miriam shrugged. ‘It was your home and you loved it. The first time you showed me round I could see how much it meant to you. Besides which—’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I didn’t realise quite how much it would remain yours,’ she said, a trifle illogically.

  He seemed to understand, though. ‘And how much did it?’

  ‘A hundred per cent.’

  ‘I see.’

  ‘Oh, it’s stunning,’ she said quickly, wondering why she was trying to sweeten the pill after what he’d done. ‘Absolutely fabulous and I can understand why you love it, of course, but it’s not…me.’

  Jay’s jaw tightened. ‘But you didn’t think to tell me you hated it.’

  ‘I didn’t hate it—’ Miriam stopped abruptly. Why was she lying to make him feel better? ‘Actually I did,’ she said as much to herself as Jay. ‘Especially when we gave dinner parties and things like that. I always felt as though I was one of those hostesses who are hired for the evening.’

  Jay looked appalled. ‘I had no idea you were so unhappy,’ he said stiffly.

  ‘Nor had I.’ That sounded ridiculous. ‘What I mean is, I wasn’t unhappy exactly, not with us, but—’ Miriam shrugged again ‘—I did all the fitting in.’

  ‘Most women would give their eye-teeth to live overlooking the river.’

  She’d really offended him. Miriam found she didn’t care and was faintly horrified by it. Perhaps it was the ‘most women’ bit that had caught her on the raw. Sweetly, she said, ‘I’m not most women, Jay. I’m me.’

  Jay, through slightly gritted teeth, said, ‘That you are.’

  ‘Ginger-marinated salmon?’ The waiter was at their sides with their first course.

  ‘That’s me,’ said Miriam. Again.

  Their plates having been deposited in front of them with a flourish and offers of extra sauces refused, the waiter disappeared with a polite, ‘Enjoy your meal.’

  Jay had chosen hot-smoked trout and chive tartlet but he was staring at it ferociously. Raising his eyes to hers, he growled, ‘I can’t believe you felt that way and didn’t tell me. How can you blame me for something I was unaware of?’

  ‘I didn’t blame you.’ It was true; she hadn’t. Not at the time anyway. It was only after Belinda it had really begun to rankle. ‘I’d probably have never mentioned it if you hadn’t suggested me coming back to live in the apartment.’

  If it was possible his face darkened still more. ‘That makes it worse, not better. What else are you holding against me, for crying out loud?’

  ‘Now you’re being unreasonable.’

  ‘Me?’ He took several long gulps of wine as though he needed it. ‘You sit there and tell me you hated every minute in our home, something you hid pretty successfully while you lived there, I might add, and you object because I ask you what else you didn’t like? It’s a pretty fair question from where I’m standing.’

  He was sitting, but Miriam didn’t feel it was the time to point that out.

  ‘I’m beginning to feel I never knew you,’ he said darkly after a moment or two.

  It hurt. Determined not to let him see, Miriam stared at him steadily. ‘Then you’re experiencing a little of what I’ve felt since Christmas.’

  He swore, softly and under his breath, but it was so unlike him Miriam knew he was really angry. Still, that was all to the good, wasn’t it? she asked herself silently. He would be more likely to accept her decision that she wanted a divorce if he didn’t want her any more.

  Miserably she picked up her knife and fork and began to eat. If she had needed any further convincing that their marriage was well and truly over, tonight had provided it.

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘SO…’ Their empty plates had been whisked away some moments before and Jay was surveying her thoughtfully. ‘If you don’t want to come and live in the apartment, how about I join you in the bedsit?’

  For a second Miriam thought he was joking. Then she looked full into the hard, handsome face and saw he wasn’t. ‘That’s impossible,’ she said firmly, colour flooding her face. The thought of the two of them in her tiny home—not to mention her sofa bed—was too intimate for words.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s only big enough for one—they all are.’ Then she realised she was actually giving credence to his crazy suggestion by her answer. ‘But that’s beside the point,’ she added quickly. ‘I want a divorce, Jay. Not to live with you again.’

  ‘I know that.’ He took a long swallow of wine, watching her for a moment. ‘But I can make a divorce easy or difficult, and when I say difficult, I mean difficult. You know me, Miriam. I don’t make idle threats.’ The yellow-gold eyes had hardened, his mouth set uncompromisingly.

  It would be emotional suicide to live with him again; she knew that with every fibre of her being. However difficult he made things, she couldn’t do it.

  Whether Jay read her thoughts she didn’t know, but the next moment he drained his glass, pouring himsel
f another before he drawled, ‘OK, how about we meet halfway? You live in your place and I’ll live in mine—’ he caught himself, smiling wryly as he corrected ‘—ours, but we see each other in our spare time.’

  Miriam thought this must be the weirdest conversation ever between two people in their situation. Although perhaps not, she realised in the next instant. There had been a case at work between a married couple who were divorcing but had agreed to share their house along with their new respective partners and six children. The whole lot had lived together in practically a commune set-up, with even one of the mother-in-laws squeezed into the house somewhere and two dogs and three cats.

  Oh, what was she thinking of the McBrides for right now? she asked herself impatiently. Shock, most likely. Her mind was retreating because it couldn’t believe what it was being asked to consider. Pulling herself together, she tried to sound stern and assertive. ‘You know as well as I do that that’s ridiculous.’

  ‘Impossible, ridiculous…When did you become so negative, Miriam?’ Jay drawled mildly.

  ‘It’s not being negative, it’s plain common sense.’

  ‘You mean like wearing a vest in winter and eating up all your greens and being in bed by ten every night?’

  ‘No.’ Her soft voice sharpened. He was making her out to be as dull as ditch water. ‘There’s just no point to it; anyone can see that.’

  ‘I’m anyone and I can’t.’

  Jay Carter wasn’t anyone, Miriam thought faintly. Whatever he was, and her opinion on that changed countless times a day, he most definitely was not just anyone. Her freckles were threatening to explode off her pink face as she said, ‘Jay, why are you doing this?’

  ‘I’ve told you. I don’t want a divorce. I’ve never taken the easy way out of anything and I don’t intend to start now. I can see there are cracks wide enough to drive a car down in what I thought was a perfect marriage, not least the fact my wife hates my guts and our home and probably everything else we had together, but I’m not prepared to wind things up without at least attempting to try and iron out the problems.’ He had leaned back in his chair as he’d been speaking, the lights overhead turning his black hair ebony-blue and his chiselled features as classically pure as a work of art.