From Mistresses To Wives?: Mistress to a Bachelor / His Mistress by Marriage / Accidental Mistress

Jessica caught herself up before the snappy rejoinder could leave her lips. ‘Sorry,’ she proffered instead, trying to look it. ‘I’m just feeling a bit on edge.’

He considered her pensively. ‘About what?’

‘Nothing. Everything.’ She shook her head again, forcing a smile. ‘It takes a lot of getting used to, this marriage lark. You must feel the same way yourself.’

‘To a degree,’ he admitted. ‘But I’m not complaining. You’re worth coming home to.’

She melted immediately. Zac was making every effort; the least she could do was reciprocate.

They made love on the sitting room floor, pillowed by cushions purloined from the sofas. Jessica only realised he wasn’t using anything when it was too late to do anything about it. Not that she really wanted to, she had to admit. Making love in the raw, so to speak, was even more ravishing. She was still on the Pill, anyway.

She made sure to be on time at work the next morning, taking it that with a dinner engagement to get ready for, Zac might be early again. She needn’t have worried as it happened, because it was almost seven o’clock when he arrived.

‘Traffic,’ he said succinctly. ‘We’ll be taking a taxi to the Grants’. It’s parking by permit only in their area. You look good,’ he added. ‘I’ll try to live up to you.’

The day he looked anything but good himself would be a first, Jessica reflected as he disappeared upstairs. She took a look at herself in a mirror, all prettied up in silver grey. An attractive enough sight, she supposed, though nothing particularly outstanding in her view. Leonie, for instance, could beat her for looks any day of the week!

The Grants, it turned out, lived in Kensington. Already on edge over the coming evening, Jessica felt her heart plunge even further as she registered the number plate on the Range Rover standing outside the elegant terraced home. She thought wildly of pleading a sudden migraine, but it was hardly going to be believed. All she could hope for was a lack of recognition on her hostess’s part.

A hope doomed to failure from the moment of meeting. Cathy Grant placed her immediately.

‘We already met,’ she said as Zac performed introductions. ‘Yesterday at the store.’ The confusion was apparent in both eyes and voice. ‘Have you worked there long?’

Jessica felt rather than saw Zac’s reaction. Her gaze was fixed firmly on Cathy’s face, her smile stiff as a board. ‘A couple of weeks. How’s Gavin?’

‘Oh, fine! He’s staying with his grandparents tonight.’ Cathy was making an obvious effort to put the questions that had to be crowding her mind aside. ‘Ian will introduce you round,’ she added. ‘I just need to check the oven.’

Her husband led them through to a spacious drawing room where two other couples were already ensconced with drinks. Jessica acknowledged introductions without taking in a single name, aware of Zac’s inwardly seething presence at her side. He was too well bred to make a scene in public, of course, but there was going to be hell to pay once he got her alone.

Perhaps sensing the atmosphere between them, Cathy made no further reference to their previous meeting, although the glances she occasionally cast from one to the other reflected her continuing bafflement. Jessica could appreciate her dilemma. Why would the wife of one of the company’s major shareholders find it necessary to take a job in a retail food outlet? If she mentioned it to her husband—and she was almost sure to—then it would no doubt reach Brady’s ears before long. That would really set Zac’s blood on fire!

The evening seemed to go on for ever. Jessica yearned for it to end, yet dreaded what was surely to come. Zac held his tongue in the taxi going home, waiting until they were indoors with the doors closed against the outside world before letting fly.

‘What the hell was all that about working in a supermarket?’ he demanded.

‘It isn’t a supermarket,’ Jessica answered, trying to keep a level head. ‘It’s a rather exclusive emporium catering to the needs of the upwardly mobile classes.’

Zac drew a harsh breath. ‘Don’t try making a joke of this! How do you think it reflects on me to have a wife serving on in a shop?’

Green eyes acquired a spark of their own. ‘There’s nothing demeaning in it,’ she retorted, giving up any idea of pacification. ‘I’m not into that kind of snobbery!’

‘You can call it what you like. The fact remains that you’re doing a job you’re not only over-qualified for, but have no need of to start with!’ Zac was furiously, unnervingly angry, his whole face rigid. ‘Why, for God’s sake? You have your own account, your own cheque book. What on earth could you need the kind of pin money you must be earning at that place for?’

‘It isn’t the money,’ she said. ‘It’s to do with self-respect. I refuse to live off you entirely.’ She paused, hardening her mind against any retreat. ‘You’ll just have to accept it.’

It seemed impossible for his jaw to tauten any further, but it did. ‘There’s no way I’m going to accept it! You don’t go near the place again, do you hear me?’

‘I could scarcely fail to hear you,’ she returned with asperity. ‘And you can whistle! If you don’t like the idea of my working in a shop, find me something you would consider acceptable. As you once said, you have the contacts.’

‘I won’t do that!’

‘Because you’re afraid of losing your grandfather’s respect if he discovers you’re incapable of keeping your wife in her proper place?’ she lashed out. ‘You’re no different from Brady when it all boils down. What you’d really like is for me to get pregnant to put you back on par. Well, abandoning the condoms isn’t going to do it, so you may as well forget it! I wouldn’t bring a baby into this travesty of a marriage for a pension!’

Jessica broke off, aware of having gone a great deal further than ever intended. Zac was looking at her as if he’d never really seen her before. ‘Travesty?’ he said softly.

‘Well, isn’t it?’ she defended. ‘You married me to satisfy a self-centred old man who believes he has a Godgiven right to dictate the way others should live, no other reason. Your grandmother may have been brainwashed into following his every wish, but I refuse to go on paying court to his antediluvian ideas! I’m no docile little housewife, Zac. I have a mind and a brain of my own!’

‘I never had any doubt of it,’ he returned. ‘You knew what you were taking on when you agreed to marry me. Most people would consider you’d made a rather good deal on the whole.’ He shook his head as she made to speak, his face set, his eyes like steel. ‘If it isn’t enough for you, I’ll find you a job, but you don’t go back to this store. Right?’

‘I have to,’ Jessica protested. ‘I’ll need to give notice.’

‘So let them sue. I know someone in PR who’s in need of a new secretary. I’ll give him a ring first thing in the morning and tell him the good news.’

‘How do you know he’ll find me suitable?’ she asked on a somewhat deflated note.

‘He owes me a couple of favours,’ came the crushing reply. ‘Anyway, I’d say you were capable enough.’

Jessica stood in silence as he turned away. She’d made her point, she’d even won her point, so why didn’t she feel any sense of satisfaction with the outcome?

The answer lay in Zac’s demeanour towards her, so changed from the easy manner he usually employed. Not just the fact that she’d gone behind his back to take the job, but the very real probability that Brady would get to hear of it and lose no time in passing on the news to his grandfather. If Henry Prescott ran true to form, it could well result in a changed will. He was certainly capable of it.

For the first time, Zac made no attempt to touch her in any way when they were in bed. He lay on his side facing away from her, an acre of space between them. Jessica fought the urge to tell him she’d changed her mind about having a job. It would be living yet another lie. And for what? There was more to life than the feel of a man’s arms about her.

The interview in Holbourn a few days later proved no more than a formality. Whatever Leo Brent’s true impression of her capabilities, he showed no hesitation in offering her the job. She would be taking over from his present secretary who was leaving at short notice. He didn’t say why the other woman was going, and Jessica didn’t ask. Zac would hardly have put her in line for the job if there’d been anything untoward about the man.

Having heard nothing from the shop, she could only assume that Zac had handled that matter too. She should have held out for a right and proper notice period, she knew, but she had to confess to a secret relief that she hadn’t had to fabricate reasons for leaving after such a short time.

The bedtime stand-off had lasted no more than the one night. Jessica was sorely tempted to tell him to get lost when he drew her into his arms as usual the following night, but with her pulses already galloping, she lacked the strength of mind to carry it through.

Sex might not be the answer to everything, but it certainly helped, she told herself cynically as she composed herself for sleep afterwards. Zac obviously thought so too.

She spent a day learning the ropes from the retiring secretary. The other was to accompany her husband to America where his company was transferring him.

‘I didn’t want to go at first,’ she confessed over lunch. ‘I like the life we have here. Patrick would have turned the job down if I’d insisted, but I couldn’t do that to him. Anyway, it’s only for three years.’ She laughed. ‘Ten to one I’ll not want to come back when the time comes!’

‘Murphy’s law.’ Jessica smiled back. She waited a moment or two before saying casually, ‘What’s Mr Brent like to work for?’

‘Leo,’ the other corrected. ‘He’ll insist you call him that. He’s a nice guy. Divorced four years, but a real pussy-cat of a boss. It was a relief to him when your husband put you up for the job. Meant he didn’t have to carry out any more interviews.’ Her glance was curious. ‘I shouldn’t have thought you’d have need of a job, married to a Prescott.’

‘A whim on my part,’ Jessica told her smilingly.

‘A lasting one, I hope,’ came the candid reply. ‘Leo deserves a little devotion.’

She moved on to other matters after that, leaving Jessica with the impression that there might have been more than one reason for her reluctance to move to America.

It took her less than a week of working for Leo Brent to appreciate her predecessor’s feelings. No more than medium height and looks, with an unruly thatch of fair hair that made him appear younger than his forty-two years, he exuded the kind of benevolent charm most women would find a draw.

He’d met Zac a couple of years before when working on publicity for the Orbis take-over Zac himself had gone out on a limb to promote.