Everything You Are (27 page)

“Yes, ma'am.”

See you in the evening, Jane.”

“Yes, Mrs. Cromwell,” Jane said.

“I told you to call me Ann.”

“Yes, Mrs -- Ann.”

Ann smiled, a small, benevolent smile, before she turned around and walked out of the Morning Room.

With her eyes on the door, Jane's fingers grabbed the folds of her tunic's blue fabric. She fisted it so hard that her knuckles turned white, while her heart loudly hammered in her ears. She was going to see Ian today. For the first time since he had yelled to Andrew to get her out of the house.

Ian squared his shoulders and took a deep breath. He was never nervous, not even before meetings with their biggest clients, and here he was outside the door of the dining room, with his hands sweaty and his breath as laboured as if he had just run a marathon. All because of the girl that was sitting at the table in the room behind the door. He was afraid that she would refuse to listen to him, afraid that she would reject him. He rubbed his palms against his grey trousers, then grabbed the crutch he had leaned on the wall and pushed the door open.

Ann sat at the head of the long table, with Jane on her left and another place setting on her right. Harold, Ann's butler stood near Ann.

“You're late,” Ann said.

“I'm sorry, I had a business matter that I needed to take care of.” Ian's eyes were drawn to Jane, who hadn't even lifted her head to greet him. He limped past the fireplace, Harold and the dumbwaiter to reach the chair on Ann's right. He set the crutch against the chair nearby and lowered himself into the seat, his gaze still on Jane. He admired the curve of her neck and the brown strands that escaped from her low ponytail. She was beautiful, so beautiful that it took his breath away. He just wanted to wrap his arms around her and drown himself in her touch and scent. “Hey, Jane. How are you?”

She glanced at him briefly before her head bent over the plate again.

So she was going to ignore him. Ian couldn't say that he was surprised. All through dinner, he tried to soften her up with chitchat and with compliments but it was like he was talking to a wall. She never replied, but that didn't stop her from conversing with Ann or Harold. As soon as dinner was finished, Jane stood up, excused herself and left.

“That didn't go too well,” Ann commented.

“It went better than I expected.” Ian pushed the plate aside.

Harold came and took his and Ann's plates.

Ian rested his elbows on the table. “I should have come here as soon as I got out of the hospital, but... I thought if I gave her some time that would have soften her ire.”

“What you should have given her is an explanation, not time,” Ann said. “You have never in your life been used to thinking of anybody but yourself. Oh, yes, you like to do little things for people, to make them happy, but the most important person in your life was always you. There was nothing wrong with that when you were a one-member family, or when you were in one of your shallow relationships, but now there are two in your family, soon to be three.”

“You’re saying that as if I alienated her for my sake, not for hers.”

“I'm telling you this because you didn't have to alienate her at all. Have you told her anything regarding this sad affair?” She leaned backward in the chair.

“Only how Mother wasn't Father's first love.”

“Ah, so you know about that?”

“How could you have allowed the engagement to go on?”

“I love my children, that means you too, and that's why I'm willing to do things for you, like indirectly accusing a girl you love of being pregnant by another man, and then taking her under my roof, even when the said girl doesn't want to stay in my house. She threatened to call the police.”

“You told me that.” He could just imagine her, his sweet girl, with a frown on her face and stubbornness in her eyes as she told Ann off. His mouth turned upwards. “I wish I had been there to see her.”

“If you had been, I doubt that you would be smiling as you are now. She refused to come into the house, and when she finally did, she looked completely miserable and as if she had been crying.”

Ian's fingers went over his jaw, he rubbed it, frowning. “I have a lot of explaining to do, don't I? I hate that I had to hurt her, but I only pushed her away because there was a danger that somebody was trying to kill her.”

“Don't be so dramatic.”

“The elevator cable turned out to have been cut. I could have died.”

“It was one-floor drop. I doubt that you would have died, but you could have gotten seriously injured. I talked with Sebastian. He thinks it was Martha.”

“Yes, I do too. I just don't understand why. We suspect that she wants to get revenge for her step-sister. To hit my father where it would hurt him the most, she first had to try to get him through the company and then through me. We all know how much the company means to Father.”

“And how much he values you as his successor.”

“So, it makes sense that the company and I were the targets. But why Jane? I'm a hundred percent certain that Jane didn't imagine that somebody pushed her. So why her?”

“It could be because of Sebastian's enthusiasm over his first grandchild. He's telling everybody who's willing to listen how he's looking forward to his grandchild, and how happy it makes him that you actually have plans to settle down.”

“He is?” Ian straightened and followed the line of the napkin with his finger. “He looked so strict when he faced me about Jane's pregnancy… I mean, he did say that he was looking forward to the child and he welcomed a new addition to our family, but I thought that was more for Jane's benefit than anything else. He has always liked her and he was angry that I got my hands on her. I think he was afraid that I'd treat her like one of my one-night stands.”

“Is there any news about Martha?” Ann asked.

“No. And we still don't know what made her run off. Southern suspects that she noticed the listening devices that we set in her room, or the program he installed on her computer. Thornton's security department has already gone through the estate, removing all the bugs. Father has surrounded himself, Mother, Chris, and me with an army of bodyguards, and Andrew is watching over Izzy like a hawk. At Father's insistence, I did leave the bugs in my apartment, though, not that I think they would be of any help.”

“If we take into consideration the elevator accident, she's after you --”

“Or Jane. Jane could have been the one in the elevator.” Which luckily hadn’t happened, because he didn't know what he would do if something happened to Jane or the baby. Murder that hag, mostly likely.

His grandmother pinched her lips together.

“What?”

“When Martha was there, at brunch on the veranda, Izzy and Jane were talking about how overprotective you are and Jane told her that you requested she use the elevator.”

“When I get her, I'm going to strangle that woman.”

“She can't get to Jane while she's here. She also can't get to you while you are here, or when you are at the office, or at your apartment, now that she doesn't have access to it. You two are safe.”

His finger glided over the line of his chin. “We left the bugs in the apartment untouched. We could give Martha an opportunity to get to me in a place easily accessible.”

Her eyebrows lowered. “I hope you are not implying you are willing to act as bait.”

“Nothing would probably come out of it.”

“Or you could get yourself killed.”

“It's worth the risk, if it meant that Jane would be safe.”

His grandmother didn't agree, so he didn't push the idea any more. But it lingered at the back of his mind as he used his crutch to walk toward the south part of the house where his and Jane's rooms were. Ann told him that she had given Jane Izzy's room, which meant that, since he used his old room, Jane's room was across from his. He stopped at Jane's door and knocked.

She didn't answer it.

He hadn’t expected her to. He wrapped his fingers around the doorknob, turned it and pushed the door forward. It opened. That was a surprise. He stepped inside. “Jane!”

Her head snapped up from the book she was holding. She was sitting on the loveseat, her legs folded under her. “Get out!”

“We need to talk.” He took another step forward and closed the door.

She pulled her legs out from under her.

“I know I have been an ass.”

“Get out!” She threw a book at him.

He sidestepped.

The book passed him in a whoosh, hit the wall behind him and fell to the hardwood floor.

“Get out. Get out.” She grabbed a magazine that was on the end table beside her and swung the item at him.

This time he only had to twist his body to avoid the projectile. “Jane, please.”

The remote control was next. It ended up on the floor beside him with a chipped edge.

“I know that I have hurt you terribly, but it was for your own safety. I love you so much and it would destroy me if something happened to you.”

The hand that was in the middle of throwing an empty cup stilled. “You love me?”

“Of course I love you.” He stepped toward her. “I always have.”

“You yelled at me to get out.” Her eyes narrowed.

“Yes.” He grimaced. “I'm sorry about that, it couldn't be helped, really.”

“Of course it couldn't.” She hurled the cup at him. He evaded it and it shattered against the wall.

“Stay still so I can hit you!” She tossed a small pitcher at him.

He caught it.

She growled, her eyes darting around. They stopped at the heavy vase on the low cabinet by the window. She ran to it.

He put the pitcher on the cabinet behind him. “Jane, really? Really?” At least she hadn’t gone for the heavy lamp that was on the nightstand by the bed.

She grabbed the vase, lifted it and froze. The coloured glass slipped out of her fingers and hit the table, splitting in two.

“Jane, what's wrong?” He hurried to her, as fast as his sprain allowed him.

Her hands glided over her stomach and something like a look of wonder flashed over her face.

“Jane, what is it? What is it?” His fingers cupped the back of her neck, while his free hand covered the one she had over her belly. “Are you in pain? Is there something wrong with the baby? Should I get the doctor?”

She lifted her head and a glorious smile, so sparkling, so sunny, stretched her mouth. “He just kicked.”

“She did?” Ian fixed his gaze at her stomach. “She did?” he repeated in soft, low voice as he stared at Jane's lowered head. The feeling of love filled his chest and he had trouble breathing, let alone speaking. His happiness depended on the mood of his lovely, beautiful slip of a girl and on how soon she would forgive him. Maybe sooner than he thought. She really was such a great person, so generous, so forgiving.

She lifted her head, her eyes dark as she glared at him. “That doesn't mean that I forgive you. You can touch, but then you have to get out of my room or you'll never touch this belly again.”

He sighed. She was a great person, so beautiful, so amazing; he was crazy about her, but she was just not as forgiving as he hoped.

#

With his hands under his head, Ian stared at the ceiling in the semi-darkness. She was just two steps away. Was she lying in her bed, tormented by the small distance that separated them, just as he was? With the way she had glowered at him the whole time he was in her room, not likely. He glanced at the clock. It was ten minutes past midnight.

The door opened and the light coming from the hallway outlined the silhouette of a body holding a pillow.

“Jane?”

“I can't sleep. My back aches.”

“Come on in.”

She stepped into the room and went past the couch and the end table.

He rolled on his side and lifted the thin sheet high in invitation.

“That doesn't mean that I have forgiven you.”

“I understand.”

She nodded and padded over the thick rug to reach the bed. She slipped under the covers. Hugging the pillow, she lay on her side, with her back to him.

He wedged his arm under her and wrapped it around her middle to gently draw her against him. He buried his face in her hair. Her scent enveloped him and lust for her flared up, hot and raw.

“No funny stuff.”

“Yes, ma'am, no funny stuff.” He shifted his legs one over the other and bent his knee to hide his erection. The sensor-light on the hallway faded off, leaving them in darkness.

“I'm still mad at you, and it will take quite some time before I get over it.”

His palm glided over the curve of her belly and he let it rest against her navel. “Is there anything that I can do to speed up the process?”

“No, but if you want me to forgive you at all, you have to make it up to me.”

“I guess that buying you some jewellery is out of the question.”

She tensed in his arms.

“What about a car or an apartment? Or maybe a house?” His free hand went between them. He started to rub her back.

She stifled a moan, but he heard it quite clearly. “Don't joke around.”

“I'm not.”

“I'm not for sale.”

The fingers trailed into the dip of her spine. “I'm not trying to buy you, I'm just... I don't know how else to make it up to you. I'm quite helpless with this and I really need some help. Or at least a hint. What do I need to do, Jane, for things to go back to the way they were?”

“But things can never go back to the way they were.” She turned in his half-embrace so that she now faced him.