Her Marriage Secret. Darcy Maguire
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Joyce had been with her almost from the start, but still Meg couldn’t bring herself to tell her everything. To tell her the truth about her life.
Joyce pushed her thin-framed glasses up her nose and approached the desk. She dropped a couple of files in front of Meg. ‘Did you and Suzie have a falling out?’
Meg wished it was that easy. It was usual for Suzie and she not to see eye to eye on quite a few issues, and Suzie had the awful habit of telling Meg exactly what she thought in the bluntest way. Meg was the first to admit that Suzie was an acquired taste, but Joyce was way off the mark this time.
‘You could say that.’ Meg bit her lip. Or rather Suzie had been all for falling in while she’d fallen flat. ‘I’ll call her later.’
‘A reporter called and wanted an interview.’ Joyce straightened the papers on her desk. ‘I said I’d have to check with you.’
Meg sighed and picked up a file. It had had to come, she supposed. Her designs had done well in a fashion show last week, and it was only natural the media and the public were interested in who she was and where she’d come from. Only she wasn’t ready to tell. Not yet. ‘Can you stall him? I’m so busy at the moment.’
‘Are you sure?’ Joyce appeared unconvinced. She dithered around the room, dusting the knick-knacks Meg liked to scatter over the shelves.
‘Back to the grind,’ Meg hinted.
Joyce stopped at the door and patted her coloured hair into place before turning the handle. ‘Your one o’clock has arrived early.’
‘No worries. Send her in.’ Better to get stuck into work than dwell on Jake and her traitorous body. How could he still affect her like that?
‘It’s a him. By himself.’ Joyce closed the door.
A ‘him’ was unusual. She catered for rich women who wanted original outfits for exclusive events. In all the time she’d been in business not one man had come in on his own.
Meg stood up and smoothed down her red top, flicking the creases out of her black trousers. She positioned herself squarely behind her desk, primed to set a good first impression.
The door opened. ‘A Mr Jacob Adams,’ Joyce announced cheerily, hanging onto the doorhandle whilst admiring the visitor’s tall, well-proportioned figure as he walked in.
Meg stared dumbly at Jake.
It wasn’t as if her appointment book was empty. He’d either used his charm or his money on Joyce. Or he’d known well in advance where she was and their meeting today at the restaurant had been no accident. Meg tensed. ‘Thank you, Joyce,’ she said as calmly as she could manage.
Meg glared at Jake. How long had he known where she was? More importantly, how much did he know? Her knees gave out from under her and she disguised her collapse into her high-backed leather chair with as much dignity and grace as she could muster.
The door closed and she leant forward. ‘What the blazes are you doing here?’ She willed her weakness to vanish so she could come out of her corner fighting. There was no way she was coming out of this second best.
Jake stood there casually, looking as strong and confident on her turf as he would anywhere, she guessed. He carried with him an air of confidence that chafed. His hair seemed a little more ruffled and he’d opened another button on his shirt since lunch, revealing the light scattering of chest hair that she’d used to coil her fingers in.
He strode towards her. ‘I want answers.’
‘Well, get used to living with disappointment.’ She stood up, to feel less intimidated by his height, his breadth, his power. Her legs held.
What gave him the right to come and demand anything? He had chosen what was important to him and it wasn’t her. She had gone on without him, managing quite well, on and off. ‘What did you do? Bribe my secretary or use your deadly charm on her?’
‘Neither.’ He shoved his hands into his pockets. ‘I did it the old-fashioned way—I made an appointment over the phone three days ago.’
She pressed her lips together and swallowed the rumble of distrust in her belly. It wasn’t coincidence that she’d met him at the restaurant. ‘You haven’t been following me, have you?’
‘Your secretary assured me that my appointment fell just before your lunch hour, Meg. I had planned to invite you to eat with me, but you’d already gone when I stopped in earlier.’
He probably couldn’t stand to wait for her as she’d done for him a million times before. Not just for minutes or hours, but day upon day, month upon month.
Meg shrugged. At least she had something to thank Suzie for—her surprise visits always sent her schedules awry, and today was the perfect day for it. Though maybe it would have been better to have met Jake in private first, rather than in the busy restaurant. At least here she could tell him exactly where to go in the least polite way.
‘So I made a few modest enquiries about your movements, and—’ He ran his eyes over her. ‘You know the rest.’
Meg walked over to her cabinet. She fingered the small, intricate crystal animals—a meditative practice that had always worked before to centre her thoughts. But not today. Not with Jake standing right there in her office, barely two metres away from her. She imagined she could feel the heat of his body radiating from him. She turned to face him. ‘I want you to go.’
He covered the distance between them in a moment, his large hands wrapping around her shoulders. ‘I’ve lived long enough without answers, and I’m not leaving your side without them.’
A familiar shiver of awareness coursed through her body and she raised her head to look directly into his face. ‘I’ll call the police,’ she challenged.
His firm mouth pulled tight and his eyes bored into hers with an intensity that jolted her senses. She moistened her dry lips.
‘Go ahead. I’m sure they’ll be interested to hear that you’ve dragged them away from real cases just because you’re scared of talking to me.’
Meg tried to regain some composure, but she found it difficult even to think straight with his hands branding her arms. ‘That’s not fair.’
‘Life’s not fair.’ Amusement glinted in his eyes.
‘Tell me about it.’ It wasn’t fair he could still twist her words against her. She bit into her bottom lip fiercely. ‘You spoke to Suzie, didn’t you?’
‘Suzie was very keen to talk about you.’
Her stomach lurched. Suzie had better not have told him everything, or the world would soon be short one gossipmonger. ‘And herself, no doubt.’
‘Is that jealousy I hear, Megan J?’ He watched her intently. ‘What’s with the J anyway?’
Heat flooded her cheeks. ‘J is for James. It’s my middle name. Not that you’d remember.’ Her father hadn’t been able to bear the idea of not using his father’s name for his only child—a curse when she was young which had finally turned out a blessing when she’d decided to disappear. And it was perfect for her fashion label.
Jake’s deep green eyes were dangerously warm. ‘Meg, what went wrong?’
The tenderness in his tone shocked her. She looked to her pale ceiling. The wrenching ache in the back of her throat took her by surprise, but she wasn’t about to fall into that trap. ‘If you don’t know then you’re a bigger idiot than I thought you were.’
‘That’s unfair.’ His grip tightened and his eyes searched hers, as if probing the depths of her soul for answers to questions he couldn’t form. ‘We were young.’
It was a statement. She didn’t need to answer. She didn’t want to speak in case she broke the silence.
Meg’s ears filled with Jake’s