Authors: Jessica Steele
'You haven't been troubled by nightmares since that first one?' he probed.
'No, thank goodness,' she replied, still able to recall vividly the waking part of her nightmare.
'Good,' he said, then casually, 'Still think about him?'
He meant Trevor, of course. And though she found it amazing that a couple of days could go by with Trevor never entering her mind, to have Nash thinking she was as fickle as he found the rest of womankind was something her heart didn't want.
'What do you think?' she parried—and saw he didn't think a great deal of her answer.
'I think you're a fool to give him another moment's thought,' he said roughly, and let go her arm as they came to a gate. He made no move to open the gate, however, but rested his elbow on the top and turned to look at her, his grey eyes narrowed so that she wondered what else was coming.
'This other man—the man you loved before Coleman. What happened to him?'
'Other man?' she exclaimed, usually just about able to keep up with him, but this time finding he had lost her.
'The man you must have loved more, by the sound of it,' Nash elucidated, his grey eyes steady on hers. 'Coleman said you hadn't been to bed with him but that there'd been someone else before him.'
Straightaway then Perry recalled Trevor's assumption that with her being married, it naturally followed... 'Er—there wasn't—er—hasn't been anybody,' she stammered, not comfortable with the direction the conversation was taking.
She saw Nash didn't believe her before he turned some of the contempt so far reserved for Trevor her way. 'I thought you'd grown out of the habit of trying to pull the wool over my eyes,' he said cuttingly, and turned abruptly away to unlatch the gate so they should walk through.
But anger at having her honesty questioned had sent
her embarrassment fleeing. 'I'm not telling lies!' erupted from her as she refused to move a step. And, made angrier still that when Nash turned and his watching eyes were showing he still didn't believe her, 'Trevor Coleman's only foundation for thinking I'd had a...' she faltered at what she was about to say, but was too furious not to finish it, '... a lover was the fact he discovered about me being married.' She saw Nash's eyebrows shoot up as. he got there before her clearer explanation came. 'He thought—thinks—must have done, that our marriage was a—normal one.' Fed up suddenly, she presented him with her back, not sure she wanted to carry on with their walk.
In two minds about marching off and leaving him, suddenly, she felt a hand come down on either shoulder and felt Nash turning her to face him. With hostile eyes she looked up—then all hostility vanished.
Somehow, whether by weighing up what he so far knew about her, or by just plainly believing what she said, she didn't know, but somehow doubt was going from him and incredulity grew in its place..
'You mean . ...' he began. Then, all doubt gone, 'Oh, my ...' he began, but didn't finish that either as he took her in his arms, his head drawing nearer. And it was another world to her to feel the warm gentle touch of his mouth on hers.
It had meant to be a kiss of apology, she knew, but the chemistry in her that had a habit of over-reacting when Nash kissed her had her arms going up and around him, so that although he pulled his head back to look at her, the invitation on her sweet face was replied to.
His mouth on hers again, the pressure firming, her body pulled closer up against his, had her responding wildly. She felt his hands beneath her jacket pulling her closer still, and moaned softly from the sheer pleasure such closeness with him gave. She knew then as his lips left her to stray to her throat that whatever he asked of her she would give, willingly.
'Oh, Nash,' she groaned, unable to save herself, and felt his mouth quieting hers as his hands caressed from the back of her to the front, every caressing movement causing a shiver of delight to take her.
That was until she heard him murmur, 'I'm not sure you're up to this.' And then she cared not that his concern for her welfare had made him wonder if she was fit enough to be made complete love to. She saw only that even while she could tell he desired her, Nash Devereux would never let himself be so far gone in any situation that he failed to think with cold clarity.
Angry, with herself more than him, she later thought, that while his brain had still been ticking over she hadn't been thinking at all, she jerked out of his arms.
'Good heavens, Nash,' thank God for pride, 'you really didn't think I intended to go
all
the way, did you?' She didn't like the way his eyes were narrowing, but managed to find something that would do for a light scornful laugh as she reminded him, 'Haven't I only just told you ...' flying into her head came the words he had once used, 'I'm a good girl, I am?'
Her scorn had pricked him, she saw that as he stared grimly at her. 'So you say,' he said derisively,' but I hope you won't think me too much of a' cad,' his tone was hard as he bit out, 'if I remark on the bloody good imitation you gave that you weren't.'
Perry was haring off across the field as his, 'Walk, don't run,' was bellowed after her. And she wanted to scream, 'Go to hell!' because, even furious with her as he was—no doubt because this time it had been she who had halted their lovemaking before that divorce was made 'the harder to come by' —that hard calculating part of him could remember she had been injured and was not up to tackling a sprint yet.
She was out of breath when she reached the house and leaned on the hall table to catch her breath, the telephone it housed making her jump when it suddenly shrilled. She ignored it, her temper gone, ready to cry at what Nash could so effortlessly do to her.
But the phone didn't stop ringing. It forced her to forget her feelings as she realised that with Bert most likely still outside servicing his car, and Ellie taking the opportunity of putting her feet up this Sunday afternoon, it was left to her to answer it.
She picked up the instrument, spotted a telephone pad and a pencil and was ready to take a message as she read out the number from off the dial.
'Put Nash on, will you,' ordered a bossy female voice, sending darts of jealousy spearing.
'He's not in,' Perry said more sharply than she meant, though whoever it was at the other end didn't deserve any better if she thought this was the way to talk to Nash's hired help.
'Who
is
that?' The voice had sharpened too, firing Perry's wilting spirit.
With the greatest of pleasure she delivered, 'Mrs Nash Devereux—may I ask who
you
are?'
Moments of silence were her answer. Then the voice altered, and a bitchiness came through. 'So
your
turn to be installed at Greenfields, is it?' Jealousy wasn't limited to darts as great shafts of that emotion took Perry at the implication that whoever the woman at the other end was, she had once been installed in Nash's home. Wanting badly to slam down the phone, Perry found just sufficient control to hang on, and heard a tinkly laugh followed by, 'Make the most of it, my dear—I assure you it won't be for long. Tell Nash Elvira rang ...' Perry didn't wait to hear what else Elvira Newman had to say. Just hearing her name, recalling the beauty photographed with Nash at the airport, was enough to lose the scant control she had. The phone was banged down and she was in her room before she remembered Nash had told her he hadn't wanted to be met at the airport by the press— or anyone.
That should have made her feel better, but with the realisation she could no longer avoid facing—her jealousy, the way she couldn't help by respond to him just two pointers—that she had passed the stage where she thought she might be falling in love with Nash. She
was
in love with him, and there was no 'might be' about it.
Knowing full well if she followed her inclination and didn't go down to dinner he would see it as his duty to come up to enquire if her dash back to the house had exhausted her, Perry joined Nash downstairs with only a minute to spare before mealtime.
Oh, to have a fraction of his sophistication, she thought, that his anger with her gone he didn't bat an eyelid when referring to her racing away from him and hoping she suffered no ill effects!
'I'm fine,' she said quietly, and took her place at the table.
There were many times as dinner progressed when Nash said something that at any other time would have had her lips twitching, or even laughing outright. But Elvira Newman's intimation that she had once been installed in Nash's home, without question as his mistress, just wouldn't stop gnawing away at her.
'Your attempt to be athlete of the year has taken more out of you than you're admitting,' he said suddenly, causing Perry, who had been staring into her coffee cup, to realise he had been closely observing her while she had been picking at her meal. 'You've barely eaten anything. You'd better have an early night.'
About to snap 'Yes, doctor,' she felt pain that he was clearly saying he'd had enough of her company. 'What a good idea,' she said, her pain giving her tongue a sarcastic edge.
Ignoring that his eyes were starting to glint, she picked up her cup intending to drain it and go. Then realised she \ would have to tell him about the telephone call, that or have his smart brain wondering why she hadn't when he
found out, as he surely would the next time he saw Elvira Newman.
'By the way, I've just remembered,' she said without blinking, 'Elvira Newman rang.'
She wished she knew what he was thinking. She was aware his eyes were upon her, and avoided looking at him by taking several sips of her coffee. Then she heard him casually ask:
'Did she say what she wanted?'
'I have no idea.' Perry placed her cup in its saucer, a knife turning inside, and her hurt wouldn't be held in any longer. 'Apart from charmingly remarking on its being
my
turn to be installed, and telling me it wouldn't be for long, she had little else to say.'
As soon as she had repeated the bitchy remarks she wished she hadn't. But it was too late then in the lengthening pause to pull them back. And then Nash was causing her agonies that he had immediately guessed at her jealousy.
'So that's what's been niggling away at you.' About to hotly deny it, Perry was awash with relief when she heard the different construction he had for the solemn dinner partner she had been. 'Your good-girl morality objects strongly to anyone thinking you're here as my mistress.'
'I told her I was your wife—Well, that I was Mrs Nash Devereux,', she said, and could have groaned out loud that she had just cut her own throat by sweeping away the excuse he had handed her for being unsmiling throughout dinner. 'Well, she asked who I was,' she added, just in case" Nash thought she had adopted proprietorial rights and volunteered the information.
'So you put her right on that score,' he said, and she could almost hear him crossing off one of his conclusions. 'So what is it that's upset you, Perry?' And he crossed off another. 'It can't be because I kissed you, you had the last laugh there.' Her eyes shot to him to hear him admit he hadn't liked it when she had broken away from him.
She couldn't hold his look; she wished he would leave it alone. About to follow up his suggestion that she had an early night, say that she was tired, anything, anything rather than have him discerning that for the first time in her life jealousy was plaguing her, she opened her mouth to plead tiredness and found Nash there before her with fresh calculations.
'It
is
your sense of morality, as I first thought, isn't it?' And suddenly his voice was a shade kinder. 'Does it offend your sense of decency that I might have installed Elvira here for the purpose of...'
'No. No, of course not,' she butted in quickly before her plain-speaking husband could finish. 'Good grief, Nash, you may have discovered that I ...' She wished she hadn't interrupted, and couldn't finish the sentence.
'That you don't—indulge,' he finished it for her, and she hurriedly took over again.
'But that isn't to say that I'm entirely unaware of what goes on around me.' She found, regardless of what she said, that he still thought her sense of morality had been offended.
'Would it make you feel better,' he said kindly, 'if I told you Elvira Newman has never been here?'
It did. Perry's heart began to sing again. But she wasn't going to make the mistake of looking at him so he could see how his words affected her. She pushed her coffee cup away and stood up, now ready to leave, fighting all she could for a touch of his sophistication So he shouldn't know God was in her heaven, for the moment, and all was right with her world.
'Good heavens, Nash,' she said, making for the door and finding he was there to open it for her, 'it doesn't bother me in the slightest who you have here—I won't be here much longer myself, will I?'
Oh, how she wished, as she lay in bed that night praying for sleep, that she hadn't needled him with her lofty attitude.
'That's true,' he had agreed, 'you won't.' And as though he couldn't wait for the day she would be fit enough to leave—sounding a death knoll to any foolish hopes her ridiculous heart might have thought to nurse—he told her bluntly, 'There's no room in my life for permanent—arrangements.'
Having spent a night wrestling with her pride, Perry rose early the next morning, fully determined Nash was going to take her back to London when he went. But she was to find that, as early as she had arisen, Nash was an earlier bird—he had already left when she went downstairs looking for him.
Disgruntled at experiencing a twinge of relief at the chance to spend another day in his home, to be able to see and touch things he knew, she hardened her heart, making up her mind that even if it meant camping out in his car all night, Nash was going to take her with him when he left tomorrow morning.
But that plan too was doomed to failure. For Nash didn't come home that night. Nor did he come home any of the following three nights.
'He's busy, I expect,' Ellie thought she was consoling when dinner was finished on Thursday evening and still no sign of him.