‘No,’ he repeated more levelly. ‘I’ve already eaten. Thank you.’
‘Then I’ll…’ She floundered to a halt, staring helplessly at the uncommunicative length of his rigid back—then fled.
He had seen, she accepted uneasily as she watched the water fill the bath, and felt a skitter of alarm chase down her spine, but could not make up her mind whether it was caused by fear, guilt or just the sheer thrill of getting her own back if only in a small way.
She went to bed feeling tense with nervous anticipation, a driving defiance, and ready to do battle when Daniel eventually joined her.
But he didn’t join her. Daniel did not come to bed at all that night.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE next few weeks were horrible. Daniel turned into a grim-faced uncommunicative stranger, and their nights were cold, dark places where he did not so much as touch her. The children became fractious—excited about the coming Christmas, Rachel blamed, but really she knew that it was her and Daniel’s fault. The strain in their marriage was affecting the children almost as badly as it was affecting them.
The trouble was that she didn’t know what to do about it, short of going to Daniel and making a full confession of what had gone on between herself and Zac, before humbly asking for his forgiveness, and she couldn’t do that. It smacked too much of caring what he thought or felt, and she was determined not to care—outwardly anyway.
Then one day Rachel was sick. She spent the whole day wandering aimlessly around the house, feeling dullwitted and weak-tummied, and the twins had to pick that same evening after school to play noisily about the house until her head was thumping like a sledge-hammer, and she was plainly relieved when Daniel walked through the front door so that she could pass responsibility over to him and drag herself off to bed.
‘Why didn’t you call me?’ he rebuked as he watched her slog her way up the stairs. ‘I would have come home straight away if you’d only let me know you didn’t feel well!’
She just shrugged an obscure reply and continued on. It had not even entered her head to call him. In fact, she realised as she crawled beneath the duvet, she had never rung him at work—not in all the years since they married. Daniel called home often enough, but she’d never bothered to call him. And again she was struck by that invisible barrier they’d managed to erect between Daniel the husband and father and Daniel the highpowered businessman. And she could not bring to mind one single time when she had voluntarily crossed that barrier.
Well, whatever he was at this moment, she noted as she settled with relief into the blessed darkness, he had effectively quietened the children, and within seconds she had fallen into a blissful sleep which remained that way because not a single sound in the house was allowed to disturb her.
She came awake long hours later to find it was already morning and that Daniel was standing over her. ‘I thought you might want this…’ He was standing with a mug of something hot in his hand. As he spoke, he put it down on the bedside table. ‘How are you feeling this morning?’ he enquired coolly.
‘Better,’ she said, though she was very careful not to jolt her tender stomach as she levered her way up the pillows, then pushed her hair away from her pale face before reaching for the mug. ‘Thank you,’ she murmured.
Daniel hovered, studying her grimly. ‘I can take the day off,’ he offered. ‘Work from home if you want.’
Rachel shook her head. ‘It’s not necessary,’ she assured him. ‘I’ll probably feel a bit weak today, but I can manage OK.’
‘Still…’ It was odd, but she got the distinct impression he was struggling with something. ‘You’d better not plan on going to your class tonight—not while you’re feeling so under the weather…’
The mug of tea was hot. She blew absently at the steam. ‘We’ve planned a Christmas party tonight,’ she informed him as lightly as she could manage. ‘Zac is taking us all out to a club after class. I don’t want to miss it.’
Her tone smacked of the usual defiance, and from the corner of her vision she saw his jaw twitch revealingly. He was trying hard not to make the cutting remark she just knew was hanging on the end of his tongue. It was horrible; even while she wanted to taunt him, it was horrible.
‘We’ll see how you feel later,’ was all he eventually replied, then turned to leave.
And suddenly she felt an aching need to make him stay! ‘M-My parents are coming down for Christmas as usual,’ she rushed out, watching him halt stiffly by the bedroom door. ‘But we have a problem this year…’ He didn’t look at her, just waited for her to say what the problem was with his back placed firmly towards her. ‘Last year we didn’t have Michael taking up the spare bedroom. Now I don’t know how we’re going to put them up for two nights—I just can’t imagine my father jammed between two chairs in your study while my mother hogs the sofa in the sitting-room!’ She’d meant it as a joke but, as Daniel turned to look at her, she saw he was not smiling and felt her heart sink even deeper into that cold, bleak place where it existed these days.
‘So what do you want me to do about it?’ he demanded. ‘I’ve lost count of the times I’ve tried to get you to move to something bigger than this house. But you would never so much as discuss it. Well, now you’re stuck with a problem that you will just have to solve on your own, because I’m damned if I’m having anything to do with it!’
Rachel stared at him in angry amazement as he just turned and slammed out of the room.
She went to her evening class that night. Not because she felt well enough to go—because she didn’t. And not because she wanted to go—which she didn’t. But because she felt so angry with Daniel that she refused to give him the satisfaction he would feel if she stayed at home instead!
But she did not enjoy it. Her mind was preoccupied with a million and one things she could be doing at home, and her stomach refused to settle down. She was tired, tense and pale. And, on top of all that, Zac spent the whole time watching her through dark, disturbing eyes.
OK, so it was the first time since he first met her that he’d seen her in anything but jeans, and she had to acknowledge that he looked rather dishy himself in a dark silk lounge suit and creamy shirt. She was wearing a little black dress she had bought on that first bout
of restlessness that had sent her up to London to create her new image. It was off-the-shoulder, short and figurehugging, and she received several teasingly provocative comments from some of the other men when they saw her.
But the way Zac was looking at her made her feel distinctly uncomfortable. And his eyes kept on telling her that he was remembering that kiss they’d started in his car, whereas Rachel had spent the last few weeks trying to dismiss it from her mind. Which wasn’t difficult—it was the guilt that was the hardest to dismiss, not the kiss.
They were going on to a local nightclub later. It was in actual fact an old cinema converted into a club. They’d booked a table in the mezzanine restaurant that looked down on the old stalls area, which was now a disco dance-floor with laser lights and throbbing disco music played so loud that it was virtually impossible to speak. Any other time she would have thoroughly enjoyed the whole thing. The places Daniel took her to were more sophisticated and sedate, the restaurants quiet, the music easylistening, middle-of-the-road stuff. And until this last bust-up with him she had been quite looking forward simply to letting her hair down and discoing the night away.
As it was, her stomach would not let her enjoy the meal she’d ordered, and the music grated on her thumping head. Zac had pulled his chair up close to hers and was insisting on monopolising her attention with soft conversation that forced her to lean towards him to catch what he was saying, and brought her into too intimate contact with his body.