But the nights—what was she to do about the nights? She frowned at the television set, talking to itself in a corner of the room, picked up the remote control and zapped it off. She took herself to bed and tried to read, but the words didn’t make any sense at all.
She had shown Jed that she had a mind of her own, that she wasn’t prepared to dance to his mournful tune, live a lie into the foreseeable future. She’d made her stand and escaped an intolerable situation.
This trip to London hadn’t been about buying new clothes, it had been about escape. But she could never escape, no matter how far she ran, not while he was still firmly in her heart.
CHAPTER SEVEN
ELENA fixed the diamond ear-studs with steady fingers. Set in ornate, chunky gold, they matched the bracelet around her slender wrist. Jed’s wedding gift to her. She’d leave these lovely things behind at Netherhaye when all this was over. She had only decided to wear them tonight because they were the perfect complement to her dress.
She stood back, looking at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She’d do. No ballooning bulge in the tummy region yet, although during her check-up Greenway had assured her it wouldn’t be long before it appeared!
But for now the champagne-coloured satin sheath lovingly caressed every softly rounded curve. Ending a few inches above her knees, it made her look very leggy, and the deeply scooped top, suspended only by the thinnest of shoestring straps, made her breasts look fuller than they were. Or maybe that was down to her condition?
She’d left her hair loose tonight, a shimmering golden sweep curving down to her shoulders, and for once her make-up couldn’t be faulted. She looked, she decided dispassionately, like a sophisticated, sexy, mature professional woman. It was the look she had deliberately set out to achieve.
And, thankfully, not a butterfly in sight.
Jed was to accompany her to the awards ceremony. Even she had had to admit that it would look odd if he didn’t. There’d been a few qualms, though, when he’d told her that he’d booked a suite for the night in the up-market hotel where the ceremony was to be held, but he’d told her glacially, ‘I don’t suppose you’d want to travel up to town in your glad rags, or face the drive back in the small hours. The suite has two bedrooms and a sitting room, so we should be able to share it without coming to blows.’
So she’d handle being here with him without the buffer of Catherine’s company and Edith’s to-ings and fro-ings. She felt calm enough right now to be sure of that.
His perfunctory tap on the door of her bedroom told her it was time to go. She pushed her feet into pale bronze-coloured high heels and straightened her shoulders. She wasn’t looking forward to this evening, but she’d grit her teeth and get through it in style.
He was ready and waiting in the ultra-modern, elegantly furnished but impersonal sitting room, and as his eyes swept over her body then back to her face she saw his hard jaw tighten.
‘You look very beautiful, Elena.’
‘Thank you.’ She took the clipped compliment as calmly as she could. He was simply being polite. And she could have said the same of him, but she’d bite her tongue out before she’d repay the compliment.
He looked better than good whatever he wore, but in his black dinner suit he looked spectacular. Sizzlingly handsome yet challengingly remote. He could shatter her senses but she wouldn’t let him.
Deftly, she swept up her evening purse from the side table where she’d left it earlier. She caught the glimmer of gold from her wide wedding band and misery welled up inside her.
For a moment it swamped her, but she resolutely stamped it down. And then Jed said, in a rough, tough voice she barely recognised, ‘Believe it or not, whichever way it goes tonight, I’m proud of your achievements.’
Dipping her head in brief acknowledgement, she blinked furiously. It would be easier on her if he kept his mouth shut. She didn’t want his compliments or his praise. In this hateful situation they hurt far too much.
And she would not cry! Wouldn’t let herself be that weak! He certainly knew how to get to her, twist the knife and bring her pain. Though, to give him his due, he probably hadn’t meant to.
He didn’t realise how much he could hurt her, how desperately she wanted things to be as they had been, or how desperately she was trying not to want it.
She bit her lip as she preceded him into the lift. And Jed chided gently, ‘Do that much longer and you won’t have any lipstick left’ He took her hand as the lift settled to a well-bred halt and the doors slid open. ‘There’s no need to be nervous. I’m rooting for you—whatever the panel of judges have decided. I admit I don’t read the genre, but I have read your work, and for my money I fail to see how anyone else can come near you!’
If things had been different she’d have squeezed his hand, smiled up into his eyes and told him he was biased. And kissed him for his kindness.
As it was her fingers lay coldly within his, any reply she might have made stuck in her throat. He had only taken her hand because they were now on public show and the pretence had to go on.
She wasn’t nervous about tonight, but he thought she was and so had put his negative feelings for her behind him, trying to make her feel better, calm her down. But he was only making it worse, reminding her that at heart he was a good man, caring and compassionate.
She had lost all that, and the loss was once again sharpening its claws on her heart. She was finding it impossible to bear.
But tonight—whichever way the award went—she was on show. She couldn’t turn tail and head back to her room, no matter how desperately she wanted to do just that. She couldn’t let him down. The effort of getting through the evening was probably the last thing she would ever be able to do for him.
‘You look a star!’ Trish, her agent, cried excitedly.
Paula, her more down-to-earth editor, stated, ‘Don’t worry about the competition, El. None of them hold a candle, I promise.’
‘That’s exactly what I’ve been telling her!’ Jed slipped an arm around her waist and tugged her against his side.