Nothing Changes Love. JACQUELINE BAIRD
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the flash of pain in his expression before he quickly controlled it.
‘Dr Bell said to pamper you, so all right.’ His dark head lowered and she knew he was going to kiss her but deliberately she turned her head away and his lips brushed her cheek. ‘Goodnight, darling,’ he said softly. She felt him leave the bed and a few seconds’ silence before the door closed with a soft thump.
What had she done? And why? She didn’t know. The huge bed was lonely without Jake, and slowly the tears trickled down her cheeks. She didn’t recognise the person she had become, and, as she sank into an exhausted sleep, her tired mind gave up trying to find an answer.
* * *
Over the next few weeks, Lexi seemed to move through the days in a world of her own. Oh, she functioned all right on a purely practical level, but on an emotional level she was numb, haunted by guilt because she had lost the child. Not even Jake could get through to her.
The first morning back at Forest Manor, he had been all concern, refusing to leave for London, until on the Wednesday evening he insisted on taking her out to dinner, trying to cheer her up. They dined at Number 19 Grape Lane in York, the first place they had ever shared a meal together, but the exquisite food tasted like sawdust in her mouth, and she heaved a sigh of relief when Jake finally suggested returning home.
As she slipped her nightdress over her head, a soft confection of satin and lace, Jake walked into the bedroom. She lifted her head, and eyed him across the wide expanse of the large bed. He was fresh from the shower, his dark hair slicked back across his proud head, his body gleaming golden, naked except for a short white towel slung around his hips, his long sinewy legs planted slightly apart. He looked like every woman’s dream of a lover, but to Lexi he appeared as a threat to her blessed numb state. She watched wary-eyed as he walked around the bed to stand in front of her.
His strong hands curved around her upper arms and he eased her towards him. ‘Lexi, we have to talk. You’ve slept alone long enough; it’s becoming a habit.’
She tensed her body rigid in his hold.
‘Don’t get me wrong, sweetheart. I know it is too soon for lovemaking.’
‘How thoughtful,’ she snapped curtly.
‘Give me some credit, Lexi, but you have to understand, separate beds are not the answer to your problem. You need care and comfort.’ His dark head bent towards her.
‘Not now,’ she said starkly, and watched as Jake’s proud head reared back.
‘Then when, Lexi? You hardly talk any more.’
‘I do, I worked in Reception today for a couple of hours, and thoroughly enjoyed it.’ And she had. Jake had been working in his study and she had walked through to the hotel just as a party of French tourists arrived. She had felt quite animated for a while, getting back to work.
‘You can talk to strangers, but not to your husband?’ he queried silkily, his mask of concern slipping to reveal his frustration. ‘For God’s sake, Lexi, you have to snap out of it.’ His fingers dug into her flesh and she winced, her head lifting fractionally in time to catch the flare of frightening anger in his dark eyes, quickly controlled.
‘It’s hard, I know, Lexi, but we have to try and forget. When I first met you the one thing I noticed, above your beauty and your voluptuous little body—’ his dark eyes swept lingeringly over her from head to toe and then back to her upturned face ‘—was your eager appetite for life, your vibrancy; don’t let this one set-back knock all the life out of you. I want my wife back as she was. I want us to get back to normal as quickly as possible,’ he declared frustratedly.
‘If what you say is true,’ she opined with remarkable calm, considering his naked chest was scraping gently against the delicate fabric of her nightgown over her softly rounded breasts, ‘I think you should return to London tomorrow. After all, for the past couple of months you’ve worked in the city all week, only returning home at weekends. That’s normal for us.’ Her huge violet eyes held his gaze and she watched his eyes darken almost to jet, feeling the tension in his hard body. She thought she heard him murmur, ‘I need you,’ but she must have been mistaken as, with a faint sigh, Jake slid his hands up her throat and cupped her small face.
‘Yes, whatever you want.’ And, holding her head steady, he closed his firm, sensuous mouth over hers in a hard, possessive kiss. He straightened abruptly. ‘And God knows the business certainly needs me, even if you don’t.’ And he left, a defeated slant to his broad shoulders.
After that night, Jake returned to the London apartment and his head office, and Lexi slipped into a regular routine: she worked a few hours every day in Reception, and at weekends Jake returned home.
He took her out for dinner, and to the theatre in York; he even insisted on them spending a day at Castle Howard, but nothing could snap her out of her lethargy, and the separate bedrooms remained... Meg tried as well, warning her that she was a fool to leave her husband alone with the lovely Lorraine all week—she was just asking for trouble. But Lexi refused to listen. If Jake slept with Lorraine, it was no more than she had always suspected, she told herself, and refused to admit there was anything wrong.
She worked, didn’t she? So what if she was a bit quiet? Surely it was allowed after all she had suffered. And she wrapped her grief around her like a shroud.
* * *
Lexi opened her eyes slowly and turned over in the large bed, just for a second she felt a pang of something like regret that Jake’s hard masculine body wasn’t there beside her. She sighed deeply and, pushing the tangled mass of her flame-coloured hair from her small face, she stretched and sat up. She looked around the room. A few short months ago, when the renovations were first finished, this room had been her pride and joy; she had chosen the decoration, a soft blend of peaches and cream saved from being too feminine by the heavy antique mahogany furniture. The summer sun streamed through the window, dancing into every little nook and cranny. It was a gorgeous summer day, and then she remembered the date—it was a Wednesday, her day for a check-up with Dr Bell, but also it was the day before her first wedding anniversary.
Dr Bell took one look at her and demanded to know what was wrong. Lexi broke down and told him: her guilt over losing the baby, her distaste for sex, even her suspicion that Jake was having an affair with Lorraine. Three hours later, after much good advice, such as ‘try taking a holiday’, Lexi found herself sitting on the afternoon train heading for London, and Jake.
She watched the patchwork of the countryside sliding past the carriage window in the hot summer sun and she felt as if she had awakened from a long sleep. Not so much sleep as nightmare, she admitted ruefully. Dear Dr Bell had explained everything: she had been suffering from hormonal depression and the fact that she had lost the baby and was consumed with guilt about it had made her worse, prone to suspicion, irrational... But once the doctor had convinced her it was a quite common reaction to a miscarriage, she had suddenly felt rejuvenated.
Lexi had taken great care with her appearance, for the first time in weeks. Her red hair shone like living flame and cascaded down her back in lavish curls. The smart, sleeveless plain mint-green silk sheath she wore clung lovingly to her slender curves and ended just above her knees, revealing a goodly amount of shapely legs; on her feet she wore high-heeled white pumps and she carried a small white clutch bag in her hand containing her passport. A hastily packed suitcase was on the rack above her head. She was going to surprise Jake, and persuade him to let his super-efficient Lorraine look after the business while he accompanied Lexi to Paris for the rest of the week, a repetition of their honeymoon a year ago. It would be perfect...
The first hint that Lexi’s plan was not going to go smoothly came as the train ground to a halt, half an hour away from King’s Cross station. Lexi heard with dismay that the train was delayed because of a bomb scare at the station, and to make matters worse a glance out of the carriage window showed the blue sky turn to black and the heavens open in a storm that would have rivalled Noah’s. She consulted the slim gold watch on her wrist and sighed. She would not catch him at the office, but still, she told herself, it didn’t matter.