The Unexpected Baby

So he was close. That close?

For the first time she felt scared. When she’d married him all those years ago she’d thought she knew him. One year on she’d discovered she hadn’t known him at all. Who knew what evil retaliation he had in his mind?

She glanced at her watch. No way would she let him know he was beginning to worry her. ‘Make it an hour,’ she said firmly, and tried not to shake.

‘Why? So you can call in the cavalry?’

‘No, because it suits me.’

She replaced the receiver decisively and leant against the table, waiting for her heartbeats to steady. In one hour’s time Catherine would be resting in her room, something she always did because, as she said, she was sixty years old and entitled to pamper herself.

And Edith would have come over from the converted stable-block she and her husband had occupied for years to begin preparing the special dinner they’d planned to welcome Jed home.

Dinner was always at eight at Netherhaye, so Jed was unlikely to be arriving before seven. ‘Around dinner time,’ he’d said.

That gave her plenty of time to get rid of Liam and make sure he didn’t come back.

Exactly one hour later her confidence had haemorrhaged away, and the winding, tree-lined drive seemed endless, her legs feeling uncomfortably shaky, as if they might give way under her at any moment.

Liam Forrester’s pleasure was Liam Forrester’s main preoccupation. He liked to have a good time, liked fast cars, high living, was happy to cheat and steal to get what he wanted. Being behind bars would not have made him a happy man.

And her evidence had put him there.

As Liam stepped out from beneath the trees she suppressed a cry of alarm. She refused to let him see any sign of fear.

He swept his eyes over her casually clothed body, making her skin crawl. ‘You could do with a bit of glitz, and I’d never let you wear trousers—you’ve got fabulous legs. But you look good. Success suits you.’

Prison hadn’t suited him. It was almost a shock to see how he’d altered. His blond hair had dulled to an ashy brown and looked unkempt, he’d grown a paunch, and the once sharp dresser was now wearing stained, shabby black trousers and a cheap imitation leather jacket.

‘How did you know where I was?’

The question was forced from her. Her life when she’d been married to him seemed so long ago. He was the part of her past she’d wanted to expunge from her memory; she had almost forgotten his existence.

‘Easy. I’ve been following your career with interest. Not much else to do in the nick but read the papers. And plan how I’d catch up with you one day and see you shared your success with me—like I shared mine with you once upon a time. Trouble was, I read you lived somewhere in Spain, so when I got out I couldn’t get my hands on you.’

He stepped closer. He’d put on weight and looked big and threatening. The lane that passed the end of the drive was rarely used. Anything could happen.

He saw the fear in her eyes and smiled. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not daft enough to wring the neck of the golden goose! I reckon fate’s on my side for once. It was a stroke of luck seeing that piece in the paper about you winning that award. I just needed to hang around, follow you down here, book into the village pub and ask a few questions.’

The blue Escort, she thought tiredly. And questions. ‘You phoned earlier pretending to be a journalist,’ she stated.

He grinned, and for the first time she caught a fleeting echo of the good-looking, easy-on-the-eye charmer he had been when she’d first met him.

All her girlfriends had been deeply envious of the way he’d pursued her so single-mindedly. If only they had known what he really was they would have pitied her instead. If only she hadn’t been so flattered, so dazzled, naively incapable of seeing the real man behind the façade.

‘Talkative woman, your mother-in-law. I even got the address of your Spanish home,’ he boasted. ‘I quite fancy lazing around on a Costa, drinking sangria in the sun, but for the time being ten thou will do. In cash. Tomorrow. Same time, same place. Or else.’

She glared at him, appalled. There had to be a way out of this nightmare, she thought wildly. The police? If she took out an injunction to make him stay away from her would that apply in Spain, or would she also have to go through the Spanish courts?

Jed, she thought weakly. Oh, if only he were here! He would know what to do.

She swung on her heels, heading back for the house. Liam was out of his head if he thought she’d hand over that kind of money and then sit back and wait until he came and asked for more!

If he’d shown some remorse for his crimes, said he was on his uppers and trying to go straight, then she would have gladly given him something to help him get on his feet again and find honest work. But this—this was extortion with menaces! He would never change.

‘Don’t walk away from me!’ His hand grabbed her arm before she’d gone two paces. There was brutal violence in his voice now and she stood very still, hardly daring to breathe. She couldn’t bear him touching her, wanted to shake him off, but didn’t dare provoke him.

‘That’s better.’ He sounded calmer now, and he said with a honeyed sweetness that sent shivers down her spine, ‘I can spin a good yarn, too, honeybunch. You don’t have a monopoly. It would be a real cracker in the hands of a top journalist. Given the type of publicity you get, the tabloids would pay well for the skeleton in your cupboard. Married to a common criminal, enjoying all the goodies—which of your readers is going to believe you didn’t have a part in it? Or at the very least know what was going on, where all that extra money was coming from, and fully condone it?