Forgotten Sins. Robyn Donald
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Aline never forgot grudges, no matter how old and insignificant?
Negligently Jake observed, ‘Did you go to school with her husband too?’
A fugitive emotion flashed over her exquisitely made-up face; Lauren took another, longer sip of champagne and shook her head. ‘No, he was three years older than me, and went to a different school. His death was such a tragedy. We were all shattered.’ Her glance stabbed across the room. ‘I admired Aline enormously; she didn’t cry at the funeral even though it must have been hell for her.’
The implication being that Aline hadn’t cared much about her husband…?
Grimly aware that he’d have cut this conversation off before it had started if he hadn’t been obsessed by its subject, Jake said, ‘I’d heard it was a great romance.’
Lauren’s face froze. For a second he saw malice and a dreadful bitterness in the wide eyes before they were hidden by those curling lashes.
‘So everyone says,’ she agreed tonelessly. ‘Which is why I find it so difficult to believe that she was sleeping with Keir within a year of Mike’s death.’
Her blind smile setting off more alarm signals, she continued brightly, ‘It doesn’t fit into the grieving widow scenario at all, does it? And then, of course, Mike…’
‘Mike?’ Jake probed, trying to keep his voice mildly interested, and failing. A faint rasp to his words betrayed his interest.
After a swift, furtive glance, Lauren veiled her eyes and stretched her mouth into a dazzling smile. ‘Nothing important. But most men find being married to a snow queen pretty depressing. Oh, there’s someone I have to say hello to! I’ll see you later, Jake.’ And, waving to an elderly man on the verandah, she set off across the room fast enough to suggest her departure was a definite escape.
Frowning, he watched as she embraced her quarry—Tony Hudson, a famous athlete of forty years previously, esteemed now for his work with at-risk children. Because of that Michael Connor had appointed him one of the trustees of his charitable trust, set up before his death and hugely supported by New Zealanders, one of whom was Jake’s personal assistant.
His frown deepening, Jake drank some of the excellent champagne without tasting it. Lauren had looked off balance enough to cause a scene.
That hadn’t worried him too much; his deliberate probing did. He didn’t normally pump women—especially not social butterflies with bigger hair than brains—but he was becoming absurdly sensitive about Aline Connor.
And not because she refused to allow herself to be susceptible to him. His mouth tightened, then relaxed into a smile as his host came towards him. He didn’t want a woman who was impressed by his wealth and power, but, with the ruthless, unsparing honesty that had made him more enemies than friends, he acknowledged that he wouldn’t object in the least if Aline succumbed to this inconvenient attraction smouldering between them.
For all her wary reserve, she felt something; he could see her now, taking such care not to look across the room that her awareness of him pulsed around her like an aura. Well, they’d signed the deal a week ago. From now on they met as man and woman, not as business associates.
Keir said, ‘Good that you could make it, Jake.’
Smiling, Jake shook hands. ‘Your daughter is the most accomplished flirt I know; I wasn’t going to miss her christening.’
Even before she saw him come in the door, Aline knew when Jake Howard arrived. His presence charged the atmosphere, sending out vibrations that homed in on her nerve-ends and caused swift chaos. Although she tried not to react, she stole a glance towards the door just in time to see him coming in with Lauren Penn.
Dark jealousy shafted through her. Shocked and startled by its force and depth, Aline tightened her grip around the baby in her lap, wishing that for once she’d left her hair loose so that she could hide behind it.
Emma squirmed. ‘It’s all right,’ Aline soothed, releasing her. ‘There, see, you’re fine.’
The baby smiled forgivingly at her, revealing what looked like a tiny grain of rice on her lower gum.
‘Sweetheart!’ Aline exclaimed. ‘You’re getting a tooth! Aren’t you too young?’
From across the room, Jake’s scrutiny sent a familiar surge of anticipation and apprehension through her.
Hope said, ‘Most babies start to teethe around six months, so she’s right on target.’
‘I don’t know much about babies,’ Aline said regretfully.
‘You’re doing very well with that one,’ Hope said with a quick grin. ‘Emma adores you.’
Emma chose that moment to give an elaborate yawn, and both women laughed. The baby smiled up at Aline and reached up to pat her cheek; Aline’s heart melted. She kissed the chubby starfish hand. ‘And I adore her.’ Something compelled her to add, ‘And not because she looks like Keir. That was a crazy stupidity I’ve recovered from.’
‘I know.’ Hope looked at her with warm empathy. ‘Don’t keep apologising, Aline. We’ve agreed to let it lie in the past where it belongs.’
Aline touched the baby’s fine hair, cupping her hand protectively around the nape of her neck. ‘I just wish it had never happened,’ she said, sombre and intense. Driven and desperately unhappy, Aline had acted totally out of character by trying to break Hope’s engagement. ‘It didn’t mean a thing to either of us. And I so wish I hadn’t told you.’
‘It doesn’t matter.’ Hope said firmly.
A glance at her face revealed that she was being completely truthful. Hope was so confident of her husband’s love that a one-night stand before he met her again meant nothing.
She finished by saying, ‘Forget it. I have.’
‘You haven’t, but you’ve certainly forgiven.’ Pale and severe, Aline said, ‘Which I don’t deserve.’
‘It’s time you forgave yourself,’ Hope said sternly. ‘That’s your problem, you know—you’re a perfectionist, and you expect impossibly high standards from yourself. It’s probably what makes you such an asset to Keir’s bank, but it must be hell for you to live with.’
Aline said, ‘It’s the way I am.’ She glanced from beneath her lashes across the room. Jake and Keir were talking, their combined masculinity overpowering.
Following her gaze, Hope observed with dry amusement, ‘They should wear labels—“Caution, Dangerous Male”. All we need is for Leo Dacre to join them, and every woman in the room would faint.’ She hesitated, then asked, ‘What do you think of Jake?’
Aline almost surrendered to her instincts and uttered the explosive character analysis that hovered on her tongue. Instead, perhaps she could ease some of the guilt she still felt at trying to prevent Hope and Keir’s marriage.
With a smile she tried to purge of irony, she said, ‘He’s really something, isn’t he?’
Hope said, ‘He’s gorgeous.’
But her eyes lingered on her husband, not on Jake. For Hope no other man existed but Keir. Once Aline had felt like that too, but Michael was dead.
She stirred, transferring her gaze to Emma, who was solemnly watching the crowd assembled in her honour. If Michael hadn’t wanted to wait for children, Aline might be holding her own child…
Banishing the painful thought, she said crisply, ‘Got it in one. Jake Howard is gorgeous.’
Her hostess gave a snort of laughter. ‘Actually, that’s the wrong word. “Gorgeous” makes me think of sleek, pouting male models, all biceps and bravado. Jake’s got classic features.’ Her glance switched to Aline. ‘Like you, in fact. And, like you, he has a formidable brain.’
When Aline pulled a