The Millionaire's Christmas Wife

‘Oh, I’m great, Miriam. Just great. A different woman for every night of the week, of course; isn’t that what you want to hear?’ And then he said swiftly, ‘Sorry, forget I said that. I attack when I’m nervous but then you know that.’

She had forgotten how seductive Jay’s particular brand of ruthlessness married with vulnerability was. From their first date he had let his defences down when they were alone, something he didn’t do with anyone else. At least, that was what she’d believed once. Along with the fact that he was a one-woman man.

Her thoughts made her voice tight when she said, ‘I don’t think this evening was a good idea, Jay. Whatever needs to be said could have been said over the phone.’

He made no comment to this, saying instead, ‘You look beautiful tonight, but then you always do.’

Miriam knew she wasn’t beautiful. She wouldn’t break any mirrors but she had the sort of innocent, soft looks that maiden aunts called sweet and other women dismissed as no competition. Her mother’s pet name for her as a child had been ‘little dove’, which said a lot really. What wasn’t so obvious was t

hat the temper that went with the red in her chestnut hair was there but hidden under layers of gentle friendliness. It rarely came into play but when it did it was fiery.

Aiming to keep the conversation as impersonal as possible, she said crisply, ‘If you’re wondering whether I intend to claim for anything, I’m not.’

Jay’s eyes became gold slits. ‘I’m sorry?’

‘In the divorce settlement. I don’t want anything. It’s all yours anyway—the house, the cars, everything.’

There was a long pause. When Miriam nerved herself to look at him she saw his face was grim. ‘Who’s talking about divorce?’

‘We are, surely.’

‘You might be. I’m not.’

‘But—’

‘Have you instructed anyone at the practice?’

‘Of course not. I’d discuss it with you first rather than you just having the papers arrive in the post,’ Miriam said with a touch of indignation in her voice.

‘How thoughtful.’ The sarcasm was biting.

Her soft mouth tightened. ‘But it’s clearly the next step.’

‘It might be clear to you but that’s as far as it goes, Miriam. For the record, when I stood at the altar I meant what I said. Till death and so on.’

If he carried on like this the death part might come quicker than he expected. Her anger rising, Miriam snapped, ‘And I didn’t? Is that what you’re insinuating?’

‘You’re the one wanting a divorce.’

‘And you’re the one who slept with your secretary.’

Surprisingly, her lack of control seemed to restore his equilibrium. Leaning back in the seat again and slipping an arm along at the back of her, he said lazily, ‘Don’t shout, it makes you sound like a fishwife.’

Smouldering, she glared at him. ‘I hate you.’

‘Now you merely sound childish.’

Miriam had never been prone to any kind of physical violence but her fingers itched to wipe the mocking smile off his face. Instead she contented herself with moving as close to the edge of the seat as she could and keeping her eyes on the bright lights flashing by outside.

‘Are you sulking?’ Jay asked interestedly after a while.

‘Isn’t that what children do?’ she bit back without looking at him, knowing her cheeks were burning and furious with herself for letting him get under her skin.

There was silence for a moment. ‘You look lovely when you’re angry,’ he said, deadpan.

Suddenly—worryingly—she wanted to smile and she knew she couldn’t. She was being subjected to the Carter charm and she knew from past history it was lethal. He could turn it on and off like a tap to get his own way. Forcing a calmness she didn’t feel, Miriam said carefully, ‘Jay, if this evening isn’t going to be a complete disaster I suggest we keep things on a businesslike footing, OK?’

When she glanced at him there was a twist to the stern, sexy mouth that suggested he was amused. It ought to have made her more angry but it only served to remind her how much she still fancied him.