The Marriage Truce

His own glance was hooded, meditative. ‘And what about you, Jenna? Is there someone for you?’

‘No one that special.’ She lifted a nonchalant shoulder. ‘But I’m enjoying playing the field. I never really did that before.’

‘No,’ he said. He drank some coffee, grimaced and put down his cup. ‘This place serves the worst coffee in the world.’

‘You’ve said that every time we’ve been here.’ The words were out before she could stop them. They were loaded with shared memory. And just when she needed to make him think the past was a closed book, she thought, biting her lip.

‘That could be because it’s always true.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Maybe it’s time to bring our demonstration of ex-marital harmony to an end.’

‘Yes—yes, of course.’ She made a business of picking up her bag, watching from under her lashes as he walked to the counter to pay the bill, smiling at plump Mrs Trewin and saying something that made her bridle girlishly.

But that was Ross, she told herself stonily. He could use charm like a weapon, and it was something to which his new lady would have to accustom herself.

However, she couldn’t get over the astonishing change just a few hours had wrought in him.

He looked, she thought wonderingly, as if he’d woken, refreshed, from a deep sleep. He was still too thin, of course, but the lines of his face looked sharper, more dynamic this morning, and the old glint was back in his eyes—sexy, humorous, and as devastating as ever.

Perhaps he was looking for closure, too, wanting to go into his new relationship without baggage from the past to slow him down.

And that, of course, was what she should be seeking, too. Had always told herself that she was striving to attain.

Christy’s wedding was supposed to be a step on the path to her own regeneration. She had known ever since she received the invitation that she would have to be strong to cope with all the implications and resonances of the occasion. But that had been before the bombshell of Ross’s presence had been exploded, and all that had happened since.

Culminating in the revelations of the past half-hour.

And now, she knew, she was going to need every single weapon in her armoury of self-protection to get her unscathed through the next few days, let alone the eternity to come. And she was frightened.

She walked ahead of him out on to the cobbles, and stood for a moment, shading her eyes, looking at the familiar mix of fishing boats and sailing craft in the harbour, thankful to have something else to focus on.

Ross came to stand beside her. ‘You must miss this place—the sea—very much. Do you think you will ever come back?’

‘It was a wonderful place to spend my childhood.’ She kept her voice steady. ‘But I’m grown-up now, and my life is—elsewhere.’

‘London?’ His mouth twisted. ‘Even when we lived there together I was never convinced it was the right place for you.’

‘Perhaps it wasn’t the environment,’ she said tautly, ‘but other factors that were wrong. Anyway, I’d prefer not to discuss it.’ She squared her shoulders. ‘My car’s over there. Do you want a lift back to Thirza’s?’

He said slowly. ‘That would be kind. But are you sure you wish to do this?’

She didn’t look at him. ‘We may as well keep the charade going to the bitter end.’

There was still a breeze, but it was turning into a perfect spring day. The clouds were high and broken, and the sun was hot and bright on Jenna’s newly shorn head as they walked along the quayside. She slipped off the quilted gilet she was wearing and pushed up the sleeves of her thin wool sweater.

He said suddenly, his voice faintly hoarse, ‘Dear God—did I do that?’

Glancing down, Jenna saw the red marks, clearly visible on her bare arm, where his fingers had gripped her.

She said, ‘It’s—not important. And the dress I’m wearing for the wedding has long sleeves. Besides,’ she added, coolly and pointedly. ‘I always did bruise easily.’

His swift smile was humourless. ‘Ah, yes. Of course. How could I forget? Whereas I, on the other hand, remained unmarked and untouched by everything—always. As if I have chain mail instead of skin. Is that what you’re saying?’

She bit her lip. ‘Not exactly. I—I couldn’t expect you to care about—some things in the same way as I did.’

‘Presumably because I am an insensitive boor of a man, who understands nothing of a woman’s innermost feelings.’ His tone was suddenly icy. ‘You have a short memory, Jenna. In those first few months of our marriage I came to know all your most intimate secrets—including some you’d never been aware of yourself until then.’

Her suddenly flushed cheeks owed nothing to the heat of the day.

She said in a suffocated voice, ‘You have no right to talk to me like this. No right at all.’

‘I need no reminder,’ Ross said softly, ‘of all the rights in you that I was fool enough to surrender.’

His words seemed to hang in the air between them, challenging, even threatening. Reviving old memories—old hungers. Shocking her with their potency.

He was watching her, the dark eyes glittering as they travelled over her in unashamed exploration. The cream round-necked sweater and close-fitting blue denim jeans she wore were no barrier to the intensity of his scrutiny, she realised as she stared back at him, eyes dilating, lips parted. Aware of a small, unwelcome stir of excitement deep within her.

Because he knew—none better—how she looked naked, after all the times he’d removed her clothes, his hands sometimes tender, often fiercely urgent. His lips caressing the warm skin he’d uncovered.

She was horrified to feel her nipples hardening involuntarily under the sudden force of the recollection.

This was what she’d always feared, she thought, swallowing. This was why she’d refused to allow any personal contact between them during the divorce, even in the safety of the lawyers’ offices. Or afterwards.

Because she knew she could not guarantee to control her physical responses to him.

However much she might have trained her mind to reject him, her body still shivered with remembered desire in his presence.

Suddenly she felt heat blaze from him like a dark sun.

And realised with swift, scared certainty that all she needed to do was reach out her hand …

Her throat tightened. She thought, ‘I can’t do this.’ And only realised she had spoken aloud when she saw his face change. The firm mouth harden.

Saw him take a step backwards, deliberately distancing himself from her.

He said quietly, ‘Unfortunately, you don’t have a choice, Jenna. And neither do I.’ He paused. ‘However, it might be better for me to walk back to Thirza’s. I’ll see you later.’

He turned and strode off down the quay.

For a moment Jenna stood where she was, watching him go, then, slowly and shakily, she made her way across the cobbles to her car.

She unlocked it and got in, stowing her bag on the passenger seat. Even fitting the key in the ignition. But she made no attempt to start the engine.

Her heart was thumping rapidly and noisily, and she felt slightly sick. Certainly she didn’t trust herself to drive. Not unless she wanted to find herself, and the car, on the bottom of the harbour.

She thought, I have to pull myself together.

But that, of course, was easier said than done.

She drew a deep breath and made herself review the situation. It had been lousy luck running into Ross two days in a row, but she’d make sure it didn’t happen again.