“I’m going for some air,” Jessica announced to Maddy, rising from her seat. Maddy, who knew that it was twelve degrees outside, looked at her suspiciously.
“Just into the hall,” Jessica clarified, and before Maddy could respond she left, weaving through the crowd to the large entry foyer, which was almost deserted. She sat on one of the couches flanking the coatroom, inhaling the cooler air admitted by the frequent opening of the outer doors. The ballroom, filled with body heat and cigarette smoke, had been stifling.
She was trying hard to refute the evidence of her eyes, but she was failing. She could see that Jack was different with other people; when not around her he became the Jack she remembered from their youth. The only way to allow him to be himself, to be content, was to leave him.
Tears squeezed from under her lids and ran down her face. She wiped at them hastily as she heard footsteps behind her and turned to look at Bill, who was standing before the cloakroom with a check stub in his hand.
“Jessica?” he said, shoving the stub into his pocket and sitting next to her, peering into her face. “Have you been crying?”
She couldn’t deny it, and suddenly the whole evening overwhelmed her. To her own horror she began to sob. Bill’s arm came around her immediately, and he held her head against his shoulder.
“There, there,” he said soothingly, as if comforting a child. “Has Daphne been at you again? She just told me she wanted to leave. It wasn’t because you two had a fight, was it?”
Jessica shook her head, unable to speak. He patted her back awkwardly, at a loss.
“Campbell,” Jack said in icy tones behind them, “I think you’d better take your hands off my wife.”
Chapter 9
Jessica and Bill sprang apart immediately. Jessica took one look at Jack’s face and leaped to her feet, putting herself between the two men.
“Jack, listen to me,” she said hastily as Jack advanced, his expression thunderous. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand, all right,” Jack responded tightly, balling his hands into fists. “You leave me alone at the table to sneak out here and meet this guy. When I come after you I find you in his arms.”
“That isn’t what happened at all!” Bill interjected, and Jack took another step toward him. Jessica planted herself in his path, determined to protect poor Bill, who was only trying to help her.
“Jack, you are acting like a child,” she said, her mood changing to indignation.
“I don’t want to tell you what you’re acting like, necking on a settee with this bozo while I’m looking all over for you.”
“I was not necking on a settee!” she fired back. Bill, who was certain now that they were both ready to be institutionalized, was edging toward the door.
“Get back here, you!” Jack roared, pushing Jessica aside.
Jessica grabbed his arm, hanging on so that he would have to hurt her to be rid of her.
“Jack, if you make a scene here I will never forgive you,” she said quietly, trembling with anger, her lips white.
From the safety of the vestibule Bill called out, “I would listen to her, if I were you, Chabrol. And while you’re at it, I would ask your bride why she was running away from the crowd in there to come outside and cry by herself.” He went out and slammed the door, leaving Jessica and Jack to stare at each other.
“Is that true?” Jack asked. “Were you crying?”
He was genuinely upset; his accent was back, transforming “were” into “where.”
“Why are you asking me?” Jessica replied. “I thought you had everything all figured out.”
“Well, what would you have thought if you’d seen what I did?” he countered.
“I might have paused to ask a question!” she answered, but she knew that wasn’t true. If she had seen Jack in a similar situation with Daphne, she would have drawn the same conclusion.
“We’re leaving,” he said abruptly.
“Fine,” Jessica said, turning her back on him.
He went back inside, making some excuse for their abrupt departure, and then returned to bundle Jessica into her wrap and hustle her out to the car.
The night was bitter cold. The drive back was conducted without heat, as Jack wouldn’t wait for the engine to warm up. He pushed the sports car through the empty streets, grinding the gears as he took the turns. The forecast was for snow, and it hung heavy in the night sky, masking the stars. They didn’t say a word to each other as they ascended to the apartment. Jack turned on the lights and tossed his keys on the dining table before he whirled to face her.
“All right,” he said tightly. “Why don’t you tell me what that little scene with Campbell was all about?”
“He already did tell you. Bill came out and found me when I was...upset. You saw him comforting me, that’s all.”
“You didn’t plan to meet him there?” Jack demanded.
“Of course not,” Jessica replied wearily. “Why on earth would you think that?”
“Why not? You were wrapped around him all night.”
Jessica glared at him, astonished. “Jack, I danced with him once.”
“That’s more than you danced with me!” he flung back at her, his hands on his hips.
“How was I supposed to dance with you? I would have needed a crowbar to pry you apart from your mistress!” It was out before she could stop it, and Jessica was sickened by the tortured, helpless jealousy she heard in her own voice.
Jack’s expression became guarded. “My mistress?” he said cautiously.
“You don’t suppose I believed that you were working during all those evenings you left me alone, do you?” she asked miserably.
His face went blank. He HAD been working, and it had never occurred to him that she might suspect otherwise. All this time that he had shared her bed she’d been thinking he was sharing another one with Daphne. And she had never said a word, even though he could see that the idea of it tormented her.
“You thought I was with Daphne?” he said slowly, buying time.
“You told me you wouldn’t give her up.”
His thoughts flashed back to the argument they’d had the day after their marriage. He must have given her that impression, but he had been striking out recklessly, saying anything he guessed would hurt. The truth was that he’d forgotten Daphne the minute he knew Jesse was back in town, but he wasn’t going to tell her that.
“You have no right to accuse me,” he said softly, still stalling, his mind racing to consider the implications of what she was saying.
“That’s true,” she replied, nodding. “I have no rights at all, isn’t that the arrangement?” Her eyes misted over and her lower lip trembled. “You just had to bring me there tonight and force me to see her, didn’t you? You wanted to rub my nose in it.”
His gaze grew intent and his voice got even quieter. “Is that why you were crying?” he asked, taking a step forward and seizing her in a viselike grip.
Jessica tried to pull loose. It was like trying to shake off a boa constrictor.
“Tell me,” he insisted. “Is that why you were crying?”
“What difference does it make to you?” she hedged, her pride coming to the fore, unwilling to admit that his involvement with Daphne had wounded her so deeply.
“What difference does it make?” he said hoarsely. “Do you think I can forget for one moment that I bought you like chattel? That if you had any choice in the matter you wouldn’t be with me?”
Jessica stared up at him, her pulses racing, afraid to answer. He sounded as if he really cared, as if he wanted her to reciprocate a feeling he already had for her. Terrified that the hopes he was raising would be dashed, she caught him unaware and slipped out of his grasp, whirling away from him. He lunged after her, and the high heel of her slipper caught on the edge of the rug, sending her tumbling to the floor.
Jack was on his knees beside her in a second. He reached for her, and she flinched from him.
He drew back, his face registering shock. “You’re afraid of me, aren’t you?” he asked in a low, emotionless tone.
She didn’t answer, looking away.
He sat back on his haunches, putting his face in his hands. “Oh, God,” he murmured almost inaudibly, barely loud enough for her to hear, “how did we come to this?” He looked up, and Jessica was chilled by the expression of bleak desolation in his eyes. “Do you remember how happy we once were?”
“I remember,” she replied softly.
He reached out and touched her face. “Are you all right?” he asked, cupping her chin in his hand and turning her face up to the light.
“Of course. I just tripped.”
He pulled her against his chest, and she didn’t even think of resisting.
“My Jesse,” he whispered, his lips moving in her hair. “I wish we could wipe away the years and go back to that last fall we had together.”
“If only that were possible, Jack.”
“Let me try,” he muttered. “Let me try to take us both back.” He stood, picking her up in his arms, and it seemed the most natural thing in the world that he should carry her to the bed.
Jack set her down gently, letting her slip back into the softness of the pillows, and then turned her over and unzipped the velvet dress. She was naked above the waist, and he pulled aside the panels of the gown, leaving her uncovered to the base of her spine; Jessica lay unmoving, prone, waiting for what he would do. She sensed his nearness and then felt the touch of his lips trailing lightly over her back, pressing into the dimpled hollows below her shoulder blades. She shivered, and he ran his hands up her bare arms, lifting her toward him. The dress fell away, and he reached around her, cupping her breasts. Jessica sighed with gratification as he mouthed her nape, then slid one arm across her torso to hold her steady and caressed her freely with his other hand.
“Your skin is the softest I’ve ever touched,” he murmured, tonguing her ear. “I never forgot the feel of it.”
Jessica turned in his arms, reaching up to lock her hands behind his head. He bent and kissed her lingeringly, with steadily gathering intensity, until he was crushing her to him fiercely. He drew her into his lap, tugging off her skirt and slip, and then slipped an arm beneath her knees, cradling her as he laved the valley between her breasts with his tongue. Jessica lay back against his shoulder, her eyes closed, her lips parted, while he made love to her. Her nipples stiffened under his skillful attention, blossoming into rosy buds, and when he drew back to remove her panties she arched up to help him.
“You are beautiful,” he whispered, dipping his head to kiss the slight swell of her belly as he settled her onto the bed. Then he straightened and reached for the top button of his shirt.
Jessica put her hand over his. “Let me,” she said softly, removing the studs one by one until she could ease her fingers into the opening she’d created and slide them over his chest. Jack sat immobile, letting her fondle him, his eyes half closed, his expression rapt. She peeled the heavy linen shirt from his shoulders and let it fall to the bed, moving up on one elbow to press her mouth to a broad, flat nipple. He inhaled sharply as she trailed her tongue down the line of dark hair to his belt, and then paused to undo it.
He stiffened, and she whispered, “I want to make love to you.”
He had never allowed this, and she waited for him to push her away as he’d done in the past. But he helped her take off the rest of his clothes, and when she finally encircled him with a tentative, exploring touch, he was lost. He closed his eyes and fell back on his elbows, enduring the exquisite torment of her searching hands until she bent to kiss him. He moaned helplessly, conquered where he would have been the conqueror, and opened his eyes to look into hers as she raised her head.
But Jessica was not finished. She pushed him farther backward until he was lying down and then laid her cheek against his hard thigh, her arms encircling his hips.
Jack froze, waiting, until at last she moved, touching him with the tip of her tongue. He gasped and put one hand on the back of her head, urging her onward. He was silent as she caressed him, and then, groaning with a desire so intense he felt engulfed by it, he seized her upper arms and lifted her onto him.
Jessica gasped with the exquisite sensation as she fell forward, her palms flat against his shoulders. He tugged on her hair, and she tilted her head back to look at him.
“I never wanted any woman the way I want you,” he rasped, his eyes closing luxuriously as he ran his hands down her back and shifted her weight, moving deeper within her. Jessica kissed his lashes, damp and bristling against her lips, and his flushed cheek, rough with stubble. When she reached his mouth, it opened for her, and she slid her hands over the broad expanse of his shoulders as he responded, giving himself, with tenderness, more freely than he had since they were married. This was the first time he had spoken to her during the act of love, and she knew this was a breakthrough. She could feel the change, in him, in herself. As they surged forward, lost in each other, she thought, This time he’ll hold me afterward. I know he will.
And he did.
* * * *
Jessica awoke to find herself alone in the bed, and at first she couldn’t believe it. She’d really thought that he would stay. They had fallen asleep with her still curled against him, and she hadn’t felt him leave. Her disappointment was so deep that it drove her out into the hall to look for him, pulling on her robe with unsteady hands. But when she walked into the guest room she halted, seeing that the bed was empty. He was gone, not just from her bed, but from the apartment.