Jim felt his heart might break. Did she mean it?
‘You never . . .’ He faltered. ‘You didn’t say anything.’
‘Every time we were together, I hoped that the day, the night would end another way. I was kidding myself, of course – I mean, you’d even asked me to set you up with someone – but every time we met, or spoke or texted, I was hoping you’d give me a sign that we could go back. Go back to what we were.’
He couldn’t believe what she was saying.
‘You wanted something to happen?’
‘I wanted more than being just your friend. I always have. When you came back to the house, when we watched the tapes together and I remembered how happy we were, I wanted to say something, do something, but—’
‘Will you just shut up and let me kiss you?’ he interrupted. He reached up, touching her cheek, pushing her wet hair from her face, then leaned in and kissed her. Soft, sensual, perfect. He grabbed her hand.
‘Let’s go,’ he said, leading her down the wet steps.
The official with the umbrella was watching them. With the hint of a smile, he blew his whistle and called them a cab.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jim woke and felt his eyes flutter open with a sense of contentment. He turned and saw Jennifer’s back – pale, lightly freckled – and gave a soft happy snort as he tried to remember every detail of the night before.
‘You awake?’ he asked softly.
‘Finally, I’m in Jim Johnson’s bed,’ she said, shifting position so that she faced him.
‘That’s what all the girls say.’
He propped himself on one elbow to look at her. The daylight creeping through the window spotlit her face, and he could see the faint lines around her eyes and the twin creases behind her brows. Jennifer Wyatt wasn’t a young woman any more – to an outsider, Sarah Huxley and her pretty, fresh-faced friends were more obviously attractive – but Jim touched her cheek and thought she had never looked more lovely.
‘What a night,’ she said, lying back and looking at the ceiling. ‘But I should probably phone Sarah.’
Jim shook his head, not wanting to spoil the moment. He hoped she wouldn’t mention Connor. She didn’t.
‘So are we going to stay in bed all day and make up for lost time, or does duty call for Omari’s head honcho?’
‘I’d like nothing better,’ said Jim, propping himself up with a pillow and glancing at his diver’s watch, ‘but I’ve got to be on a flight in – bloody hell, in four hours.’
‘Plenty of time. Where are you going?’
‘Baruda. Caribbean.’
He didn’t want to give out any more details than that. Sarah might have understood the lengths he had to go to to sort out RedReef, but he suspected Jennifer would go into a blind panic at the thought of him meeting Marshall Roberts.
‘And I should probably go and see Connor,’ she said, her voice turning more serious. ‘It’s time I finally got this sorted.’
Jim didn’t say anything. He’d done and said enough. Of course he was happy that Jennifer was here in his bed, but there was no satisfaction in being the catalyst for the end of her marriage, no matter how much he disliked Connor. He tried to tell himself that he had done the right thing in finally following his heart and telling Jennifer how he felt. Tried to make himself feel better with the thought that there were no kids involved, that Sarah had finished with him, and that Connor was cheating on Jennifer anyway. But still, he’d pulled the rug out from someone else’s life, and however much they deserved it, he knew it was a crappy thing to do.
‘You know, Connor and I should have divorced years ago. I’ve always consoled myself with the thought that he loved me. But I soon saw that I was just another possession, like a boat or a plane, or a fancy Swiss watch, and our marriage was just another tick-box on the list of his life’s conquests. A suitable girl that fitted into his life. But, a bit like the boat and the plane and the watch, you get tired of the shiny things. They lose their appeal and so you trade up; you get the slicker, smarter model. You can’t do that with a marriage, though. Not unless you want to lose fifty per cent of everything you’ve worked for. So you do it quietly. Not so quietly that I didn’t find out. I knew about the lingerie model, the leggy blonde realtor and the journalist from Bloomberg, and each time he bought me a diamond and said it wouldn’t happen again. Each time I believed him, and when he did have another affair, I thought deep down that I deserved it.’
‘You didn’t deserve anything like that, Jen.’
‘When are you back from the Caribbean?’ she said, taking his hand.
‘It’s just a quick trip. I’m back tomorrow. And then it’s Johnson family party time. My father’s CBE celebration, his aren’t-you-all-pleased-to-see-me shindig. It’s at some swanky private members’ club. Old-school variety. Three-line whip,’ he grinned. ‘You should come. There’ll be a free copy of his new book at least.’
‘I’m not sure,’ she replied. ‘I think we should give ourselves a little breathing space to sort things out. It’s over between me and Connor, in fact I’m going to check into a hotel this afternoon. But he’s still my husband.’
‘A hotel? You can stay here.’