The Millionaire's Christmas Wife

‘Your husband?’ he drawled silkily. ‘Remember? One o’clock sharp.’ And the phone went dead.

Great. Just great. Miriam thought about calling him back and then decided against it. There was no point. She had heard the sliver of steel under the silky quality to his voice and it meant he wasn’t going to back down.

She glanced at her watch. Half-past eleven and she hadn’t so much as switched on her computer or looked through the pile of papers awaiting her attention. What was happening to her? She was beginning to fall apart.

This cheery thought provided a dose of adrenaline. Gritting her teeth, she knuckled down to some work, resolutely banishing Jay from her mind. Or attempting to at least.

A few minutes before one o’clock an inner alarm clock rang, and after glancing at her watch Miriam gathered her coat and handbag together, made a quick visit to the ladies’ cloakroom, where she checked her hair and make-up, and then made her way to the foyer of the building. As the lift doors opened she saw Jay immediately. He was sitting in one of the big, plumpy sofas scattered about the reception area, one leg crossed over the other knee and his arms stretched back along the top of the seat. His beautifully tailored suit and silver-gray shirt and tie were of the best quality—naturally—but it was the way they sat on the powerful male body that was breathtaking. And Miriam’s breath did catch, literally, along with a flood of pure, unadulterated sexual desire bringing hot colour to her cheeks.

Jay saw her in the next instant, rising to his feet with a lazy smile. ‘One minute to go,’ he said, his eyes stroking over her face. ‘And then I was coming to find you.’

‘You wouldn’t have,’ she protested reprovingly, her flesh tingling as he took her coat from her arm and helped her on with it before reaching for his own black overcoat, which had been slung on the sofa beside him.

‘Why not?’ Tawny-gold eyes mocked her but his voice held a deep, gritty note when he added, ‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’

She made no comment to this. In the lift she had made up her mind she would be cool and polite this lunchtime, and once he was back from Germany she’d continue along that line until Christmas, when she would reiterate her demand for a divorce. She didn’t want a dramatic finale to all this, tears and recrimination and bitterness. She just wanted to walk away and know some peace again.

You coward, a separate part of her mind said accusingly. It was true what he said, you did run away and you’re still running.

Maybe, she answered silently as Jay took her arm, and anguish, hot and sharp, speared her through. But that was better than returning to how she had felt when she had lived with him. She hadn’t liked the person she’d become then; jealous, watchful, frightened. So self-preservation dictated this relationship had to end, this marriage had to end.

The odd snowflake was still wafting about in the wind as they exited the building and Jay looked up into the leaden grey sky as he said, ‘You can smell the snow

coming. I wouldn’t be surprised if we have a white Christmas.’

How could he mention Christmas so casually? A lump expanded in Miriam’s throat. Swallowing hard, she said, ‘I have to be back at two o’clock, so it’ll have to be a quick lunch.’

‘No problem. I’ve booked a table at a place round the corner as I thought we might be tight on time.’

The place round the corner turned out to be the restaurant of a five-star hotel, where the starters cost as much as a three-course meal anywhere else. They were ushered to a table for two and presented with the menus, and it was then Miriam saw the bottle of champagne nestling in an ice bucket. She raised her eyebrows at Jay, who smiled unrepentantly. ‘I’m not driving today and, as we won’t be seeing each other for a few days, I thought we’d spoil ourselves. It’ll oil the cogs, you’ll see. You’ll get through twice as much work this afternoon.’

She was too worked up to argue, and as the attentive waiter was already filling their glasses she submitted with good grace, although she never normally drank at lunchtime. It was absolutely delicious, though, a hint of strawberries and summer days present in the sparkling bubbles. By the time the waiter returned to take their order Miriam was shocked to find her glass was empty. It was too drinkable, she decided as the waiter refilled her glass. She wouldn’t have any more until she had eaten something.

Once they were alone again, Jay reached across the table and took her cold fingers in his warm hands. ‘I shall miss you,’ he murmured softly. ‘Will you miss me?’

Suddenly she knew she would. Retrieving her fingers under the pretext of fiddling with her linen napkin, which the waiter had placed across her lap after offering her a roll from the basket he’d brought to the table, Miriam smiled coolly. ‘You’re only going away for a day or two,’ she said quietly, busying herself with breaking a morsel from the roll and buttering it.

‘That wasn’t what I asked.’

Miriam popped the bread in her mouth. He was different today, she thought, but she couldn’t put her finger on how. ‘I’ve lots to do for Christmas—cards to write and presents to buy—so I’ll be busy.’

‘That still wasn’t what I asked.’

She stared at him. She loved this man to the core of her being, she thought with frightening intensity. And she wished with all her heart she’d never met him. She had been happy once. Oh, maybe not in the same way she had been happy with Jay; her life had held none of the passion and emotion and sheer joy knowing him had brought. But neither had she experienced the devastation and misery which was the other side of the coin to love.

He was still waiting for an answer. As lightly as she could, she shrugged. ‘Of course I’ll miss you.’

‘You could at least try to pretend you mean that.’

‘What do you want me to say, Jay?’ she said a trifle sharply, hiding her torment under a veneer of irritation. ‘I’ve told you I’ll be busy and it’s not as if we live together; I was used to being on my own before we started seeing each other again.’

He poured himself another glass of champagne and for something to do in the awkward silence Miriam found herself drinking hers. When she put her glass down Jay silently reached across and topped it up before settling back in his seat and surveying her with a brooding gaze. ‘I want you,’ he said quietly, out of the blue. ‘Do you want me? Physically, I mean? Or have I got that wrong as well? Because I’m beginning to think not making love to you over these last weeks wasn’t such a bright idea after all.’

All thoughts of being careful went out of the window and she took another fortifying sip of champagne. She needed the buzz. ‘What do you mean?’ she asked weakly.

‘We were good together,’ he murmured softly. ‘That’s what I mean. I want to touch you and taste you and love you.’

Her heart was thudding and she prayed he couldn’t see her agitation. She could feel his warmth and sensuality reaching out to her as though he was a magnetic force, drawing her to him whether she wanted it or not. ‘We agreed—’