A Deal To Mend Their Marriage

Caro’s eyes widened. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Finishing my coffee and cake. Sit, Caro.’

‘Really, Jack! I—’

‘It’s hard, seeing you again.’

Her tirade halted before it could begin. She swallowed, her eyes throbbing with the same old confusion and hurt that burned through him.

The intensity of emotion this woman could still arouse disturbed him. It was as if all the hard work he’d put in over the last five years to forget her and get his life back on track could be shattered with nothing more than a word or a look. He couldn’t let that happen. He straightened. He wouldn’t let that happen.

‘No woman has ever made me as happy as you did.’ He sipped his coffee. ‘Or as miserable. I wasn’t expecting the lid to be lifted on all those old memories. It’s made me...testy—and that’s why I said what I said. It was a mean-spirited thing to say. I’m sorry.’

Finally she sat. ‘It doesn’t make it any less true, though.’

‘It’s not true. Not really.’ He didn’t look at her as he said it. ‘I expect things will be more comfortable once we put this initial meeting behind us.’

‘I expect you’re right.’

She frowned suddenly and glanced a little to his left. With a swift movement she reached down and picked up... His cufflinks!

Jack bit back a curse. They must have fallen from his case when he’d pulled out the divorce papers. He could tell from the way her nostrils suddenly flared that she recognised the box. They’d been her wedding present to him when he’d said he’d prefer not to wear a ring—rose gold with a tiny sapphire in each that she’d claimed were nearly as blue as his eyes. He’d treasured them.

His glance went to her left hand and his gut clenched when he saw that she no longer wore her wedding ring.

Without a word she handed the box back to him. ‘You really ought to be more careful when you’re pulling things from your bag.’

He shoved the box back into the depths of the satchel. ‘Tell me about this job you’d like me to do for you.’

He didn’t owe her for her signature on their divorce papers, but if by doing this he could end things between them on a more pleasant note, then perhaps he’d find the closure he so desperately needed.

‘And, yes, you have my word that I will never reveal to another soul what you’re about to tell me—unless you give me leave to.’

She stared at him, as if trying to sum him up. With a start he realised she was trying to decide whether to trust him or not.

‘You don’t trust my word of honour?’

‘If you’re after any kind of revenge on me, what I’m about to tell you will provide you with both the means and the method.’

He didn’t want revenge. He’d never wanted revenge. He just wanted to move on with his life.

And to kiss her.

He stiffened. Ridiculous! He pushed that thought—and the associated images—firmly from his mind.

‘I have no desire to hurt you, Caro. I hope your life is long and happy. Would it ease your mind if I didn’t ask you to sign the divorce papers until after I’ve completed this job of yours?’

She leaned back, folding her arms. ‘Why is this divorce so important to you now?’

‘I want to remarry.’

She went deathly still. ‘I see.’

She didn’t. It wasn’t as though he had a particular woman in mind, waiting in the wings, but he didn’t correct the assumption she’d obviously made. It was beyond time that he severed this last tie with Caro. He should have done it before now, but he’d been busy establishing his company. Now it was thriving, he was a self-made success, and it was time to put the past to rest.

If Caro thought he’d fallen in love again, then all well and good. It would provide another layer of distance between them. And while he shouldn’t need it—not after five years—he found himself clinging to every scrap of defence he could find.

‘Well...’ She crossed her legs. ‘I wish you well, Jack.’

She even sounded as if she meant it. That shouldn’t chafe at him.

‘Tell me about this job you want to hire me for.’

He bit into the cake in an effort to ignore the turmoil rolling through him and looked across at her when she didn’t speak. She glanced at the cake and then at him. It made him slow down and savour the taste of the sweet sponge, the smooth cream and the tiny crunch of sugar.

He frowned. ‘This is really good.’

Finally she smiled. ‘I know.’

He’d have laughed at her smugness, but his gut had clenched up too tightly at her smile.

She leaned forward, suddenly all business. ‘I’m now a director at Vertu, the silver and decorative arts division at Richardson’s.’

‘Right.’ He didn’t let on that he knew that. When they’d married she’d been only a junior administrator at the auction house.

‘Yesterday I placed into my father’s safe a very beautiful and rather valuable snuffbox to show to a client this morning.’

‘Is that usual?’

She raised one elegant shoulder. ‘When selected customers request a private viewing, Richardson’s is always happy to oblige.’

‘Right.’

‘When I went to retrieve the snuffbox this morning it wasn’t there.’

He set down his now clean plate, his every sense sharpening. ‘You have my attention.’

‘I put it in the safe myself, prior to the reading of my father’s will.’

‘Which took place where?’

‘In my father’s study—the same room as the safe.’

He remembered that study. He nodded. ‘Go on.’

Her expression was composed, but she was twisting the thin gold bangle on her arm round and round—a sure sign of agitation.

‘The fact that I am sole beneficiary came as a very great shock to both Barbara and I.’