Velvet Promise. Carole Mortimer

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Velvet Promise - Carole  Mortimer


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as his gaze moved searchingly over her deathly white face. He was dressed casually today, loose white trousers and an equally loose white shirt, the latter with its buccaneer style more fashionable than anything else Willow had ever seen him wear.

      The white clothes looked magnificent against his dark skin and colouring, and once again Willow was unwillingly reminded that he was a very attractive man. In the past she had always been too engrossed with being Russell’s wife to really see Jordan in that way, but twice in as many days she had been made physically aware of him. She didn’t like the feeling.

      Jordan had never left her in any doubt that he regarded the majority of the female sex with contempt and, although he was sexually in the prime of life for a man, Willow had rarely seen him with a woman, let alone take one home with him. Russell had occasionally hinted at an unhappy love affair in Jordan’s past, but she had never been interested enough to ask what it had been. Now she wished that she had. She had a feeling that with this man it was best to have all the aces in the deck.

      ‘Mummy!’ Dani’s face lit up as she spotted her; she ran across the golden sand, silver braids flying in the warm breeze, to launch herself into Willow’s arms. ‘Have you finished work for today?’ she asked hopefully.

      Willow glanced at Jordan before answering, sensing his silent disapproval of the career that had taken her away from her daughter for the morning, the career he had said she didn’t need. She turned back to Dani. Did she neglect this beautiful child in favour of her career? Trips like this one to Jersey were rare, as were the ones to New York, and Dani always accompanied her when she did have to go away, albeit in Barbara’s care. But she always took care of her business in London while Dani was in kindergarten, her designs usually being created when Dani was in bed for the night.

      No matter what Jordan thought to the contrary she was sure she gave more of her time and love to Dani than a lot of women in her position could, or did. And there was always Barbara.

      ‘For today,’ she confirmed lightly, studiously avoiding Jordan’s gaze as she turned to admire the huge sandcastle Dani had built during the morning, slipping off her sandals to dig her toes into the sensuous warmth of the sand, knowing she looked cool and comfortable in the emerald green shirtwaister with its wide black belt. ‘Everything OK, Barbara?’ She looked searchingly at the other woman as she watched them from her sitting position on the sand.

      ‘Fine,’ Barbara assured her briskly. ‘Mr St James has been helping us build a moat for the castle.’

      ‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Dani still clung to Willow’s hand. ‘Uncle Jordan said he would show me a real castle tomorrow. You have to walk out to it across the sea, and——’

      ‘The causeway is under the sea, Dani,’ Jordan corrected indulgently. ‘You can’t walk out to the castle unless the tide is out; we have to use an amphibious craft to cross before then. And I only said we would go if Mummy agreed,’ he added with gentle reproval.

      It sounded as if Jordan had been on the beach for some time, building the moat and suggesting outings to Dani, and she couldn’t help but feel curious about his motive. He had left her last night shortly after telling her of Russell’s proposed visit to his parents; maybe Jordan thought she would go back to England before she had to face such a meeting, She certainly didn’t relish the idea of seeing Russell again, but she had told Simone and David she would take Dani to see them, and she wouldn’t go back on her word.

      ‘Mummy?’ Dani prompted worriedly at her mother’s lack of response.

      Willow smiled down at her daughter. ‘I can take you out to Elizabeth Castle myself, Dani, if you would like to see it. I’m sure Uncle Jordan is too busy at work to take any more time off.’ She looked at him challengingly, suspicious of his suggestion to Dani; he had never given the impression that he even liked children, and yet here he was making sandcastles and offering to take Dani out tomorrow.

      He shrugged broad shoulders, the loose shirt moving against the strength of his body. ‘The world of finance can do without me for a few days,’ he dismissed. ‘I’m sure Dani would enjoy the Castle.’

      Willow couldn’t stop the protective action of placing her hands possessively on Dani’s thin shoulders, her daughter looked small and vulnerable in the red bathing costume that made her look all gangling arms and legs. ‘As I said, if she wants to go I’ll take her. Or Barbara will,’ she added determinedly.

      Brown eyes narrowed, but whatever Jordan had been about to say remained unsaid as Barbara suggested to Dani that the two of them go for a swim in the sea. Dani ran off with a wild whoop of delight, confident that the adults would decide who was to take her to see the Castle, and Barbara had to run after her to catch up with her before she plunged into the cold water.

      The warmth of love faded from Willow’s eyes as she turned back to Jordan. ‘It was kind of you take the morning off work to spend time with Dani.’ There was dismissal in her voice, and she knew by the flash of anger in the velvet eyes that Jordan had heard it—and didn’t like it!

      He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers, heated anger emanating from his body. ‘How was the shop?’ he bit out.

      ‘It seems to be doing well,’ she answered, as coolly as he, narrowing her eyes against the sun to watch Dani cavorting in the shallow water.

      Jordan nodded. ‘I have several friends who said they’ve shopped there.’

      She turned to him with widened eyes; it was the first time she had ever heard him admit there were women friends in his life. ‘At the moment most of them are still curious to see the little toy Russell Stewart’s wife found to amuse herself with after the divorce,’ she derided. ‘Let’s hope they’ll still come in to buy once that curiosity wears off!’

      He frowned at her self-derision. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong about their motives. Your designs are considered to be very fresh and feminine.’

      ‘They are,’ she said without conceit; every one of her designs, but especially the evening gowns she specialised in, was aimed at the softer more feminine side of woman that had been lacking in fashions of recent years. ‘But I met several of Simone’s set there this morning, and they were not just interested in the clothes!’

      ‘You always did have this strange idea that Simone’s friends disliked you,’ he dismissed with ill-disguised impatience.

      ‘Despised me,’ she corrected hardly. ‘The daughter of one of Russell’s own employees daring to marry a Stewart!’ She shook her head mockingly. ‘They all expected some little country bumpkin; and I certainly didn’t disappoint them!’

      It wasn’t true about the ‘country bumpkin’ image; she had never lived outside the hub of London. But at seventeen, still a college student, and so obviously pregnant, she had felt gauche and unsophisticated when Russell had brought her to his parents’ home to live and introduced her to the people who were his friends, and who would be her friends too, now that she was his wife.

      There had been little chance of that! She was the daughter of a salesman, her clothes were obviously made from inexpensive materials, even though they were original designs she had made herself. And she had known nothing of the privileged life those people led, with their sophisticated parties and designer-label clothes. Their morals could never be called sophisticated, only alley-cat, and she had wanted no part of that either. Although that was one thing Russell didn’t subject her to, making it obvious from the first that she was his exclusive property. Everyone thought it very amusing that Russell actually seemed in love with his pregnant child-bride, although it couldn’t be said he had set a fashion, as his friends continued their bedroom games.

      ‘You were the one who despised us,’ Jordan rasped grimly, also seeming to remember that time well. ‘Looking down that turned up nose of yours at the spoilt and privileged rich! How does it feel to be one of us?’ he taunted.

      Her eyes flashed deeply green. ‘I’m far from being spoilt. And I’m certainly not privileged either. I had to work, and work hard, for what I have today.’

      ‘That


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