And the Bride Wore Black

When they left the cosy shelter of the small, warm pub it was to find that although the worst of the blizzard had abated an icy northerly wind was slicing the air with savage fingers and it was quite dark. Alex lifted her into his arms without a word and this time she didn’t protest, steeling herself to show no emotion when he set her down by the car, his face tight.

‘One thing, Fabia.’ There was a strange tenseness in his voice and his arms were still about her as he spoke, his breath a white cloud on the frosty air. ‘Which is it?’

‘What?’ She stared up at him in the circle of his arms, her eyes dark midnight-blue and her hair a pale glow in the darkness. ‘I don’t understand...’

‘No, of course.’ His voice was husky. ‘I’m not expressing myself very well. This man, is he a was or an is?’ His eyes were piercingly intent on her face. ‘It’s not idle curiosity, I need to know. The present circumstances and so on...’ It was almost as though he wanted to say more and she waited a moment, her heart pounding and her hands clammy in spite of the freezing air. She wished he would kiss her... The thought jolted her out of the odd stillness that seemed to have her in its grasp and she shut her eyes for a brief moment before replying.

‘Was.’ She looked up and caught a flash of emotion in his eyes seconds before a shutter came down and blanked it out. ‘He’s a was.’

‘Right.’ Although he hadn’t moved a muscle and his facial expression was just the same she felt he had changed, that some pressure, a tautness, had drained away. He opened the car door without letting go of her, easing her into the seat, and reaching into the back for a big fluffy car-rug which he draped about her lap before shutting the door carefully. He didn’t speak when he joined her a moment later, starting the engine and clearing the windows of their burden of icy snow in silence.

As they continued on their way along white deserted roads the wind was vicious in its intensity, stirring the powdery flakes of snow that had settled on trees and bushes into mad flurries now and again and jostling the car with its force. They passed the odd solitary car crawling along at a pace to match theirs but otherwise the world seemed quite empty, the starlit clear sky overhead and the cold white earth beneath in perfect harmony.

‘We’ve made it.’ She came to with a start and realised she must have been dozing; the cosy warmth of the car had been deliciously seductive. She looked about her with wide eyes, seeing nothing but a huge snow-covered stone wall in which were set an enormous pair of wrought-iron gates.

‘We have?’ She realised there had been a note of great thankfulness in his voice although he had displayed no anxiety or concern during the journey at all. But then he wouldn’t, would he? she thought intuitively. She was beginning to realise that Alexander Cade was not an easy man to understand. ‘I don’t see anything.’

‘No, the house is down the drive a way, but first...’ He cut the engine and leant over towards her, taking her lips in a firm, hard kiss before she could move. As his mouth covered hers she knew she wouldn’t resist, that she didn’t want to resist, that she had been waiting for this moment all day. ‘So sweet, so fresh...’ His passion was growing as he felt her response to him, his tongue plundering her mouth and his hands crushing her against him so that her hair hung in a golden veil over his arm.

The kiss was all-consuming and like before it amazed her with its power, a sweet drugging sensation taking hold of her senses as she melted into him, her hands caught against his hard chest and her head bent backwards. He was running his hands up and down her back now as he covered her eyes, cheeks and mouth in tiny burning kisses, his breathing harsh and uneven.

‘Fabia?’ There was a note of undisguised surprise in his voice as she opened her eyes to find his face an inch away from hers. She sensed that the blazing passion that had sprung up between them the moment he had touched her lips with his had taken him by surprise as much as it had amazed her. Surely people didn’t normally feel like this? This wasn’t usual, was it? She stared at him, her eyes huge in her pink-tinted face.

‘I was going to kiss you and say I hope you’ll have a wonderful Christmas,’ he said ruefully as he let go of her, moving back into his seat slowly and brushing a lock of tawny-brown hair off his forehead. ‘The...ardour wasn’t premeditated.’

‘Thank you,’ she said shakily, quite unable to muster a casual reply to ease the situation. ‘I hope you have a good Christmas too.’

‘Yes.’ He stared at her for another long moment before turning the ignition key so that the car sprang into life, easing his way between the gates and on to a long tree-lined drive that seemed to stretch into the distance forever, winding and turning as it went. Someone had obviously cleared the drive of snow in anticipation of their arrival; it was heaped in great shining banks either side of them and there was a thin scattering of dark sand beneath the car’s tyres. It was a full minute before the house came into view and when it did it merely added to the sense of unreality that had taken hold of her in the last few hours.

The building was palatial, huge and regally beautiful in mellow white stone, set on a slight incline with massive weathered oaks either side like dutiful sentries. It was grand, imposing, like a magnificent stately home, and as she looked at it she felt slightly sick. I must be mad! she thought faintly. This cool, controlled man at her side had grown up in surroundings fit for a king, as far removed from her beginnings as it was possible to imagine, and here she was thinking that he might just be different from Robin, that perhaps he could be genuine.

You fool, she thought harshly. You stupid, pathetic fool. You have maybe caught his fancy for a brief moment in time, something different in his normal well ordered life that he can turn to his advantage, but don’t forget you’re here doing a job, no more, no less. You couldn’t begin to function in his world; you don’t even know the ground rules. She remembered the last words Robin had flung at her as she had left the flat that day, with the sound of his mistress’s sobs in the background. ‘You didn’t seriously think you were expected to last, did you? You were a change, my dear, like good old-fashioned ice-cream after an excess of soufflé.’ His face had been cruel, red with frustrated passion and rage, the short bathrobe he had pulled on to cover his nakedness revealing white hairless legs that were curiously repugnant. She had concentrated on his legs for a long time, she reflected bitterly; it had helped to get the rest of the miserable fiasco into balance.

‘Penny for them?’ As they glided to a halt in front of the massive oak door flanked by two imposing stone lions at the top of the circular steps F

abia raised her eyes to Alex’s watching face, her expression guarded.

‘They aren’t worth a penny.’ She smiled carefully. ‘I would be robbing you.’

‘I doubt that.’ He was looking at her hard, his eyes noting the tight line of her lips and shadowed eyes, her hands bunched nervously in her lap. ‘I doubt that very much. You intrigue me, Miss Fabia Grant; I’ve never met a woman who houses so many different facets in one lovely body. Playful, wicked, defensive, vulnerable...which is the real you?’ She stared at him without answering, her eyes almost black against the whiteness of her face. ‘But maybe they are all you?’ he continued thoughtfully. ‘A grand composite of a hundred men’s dreams just waiting to be released.’

‘There’s nothing mystical about me, I assure you, so don’t waste your time trying to make me into something I’m not,’ she said sharply, the colour returning to her face as her anger sent a burst of welcome adrenalin to banish the past and provide help for the present. ‘I’m a perfectly ordinary average working girl with two flat feet firmly on the ground. You needn’t try to charm me into thinking I’m something wonderful, Mr Cade. I know what I am.’

‘Maybe.’ He smiled slowly. ‘But do you know who you are? That’s different, my prickly little siren. I have a feeling that the real Fabia Grant is in there somewhere, just waiting to be let out. She just got lost for a while.’

‘Look—’

He cut her indignant response off with a lazy chuckle. ‘And the name is Alex, angel-face, remember? I hardly think Mr Cade holds sufficient warmth to make our relationship believable, do you?’

She looked at him as he sat, perfectly relaxed and self-assured, long dark hair perfectly groomed and gleaming against the black coat and his tawny eyes glittering at her discomfiture, and felt a moment’s blinding panic at what she had taken on. But it was too late now. As the big door at the top of the steps swung open the thought repeated itself like a ominous tolling bell. It was far, far too late.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE next few minutes were a confused jumble of larger than life images and noise which gradually sorted themselves into order as they stood in the baronial splendour of the vast hall. The seeming crowd of people that had surrounded them as they had stepped out of Alex’s car had shrunk into four elderly servants plus two huge German shepherd dogs which were clearly delighted to see Alex and ignored her with magnificent disregard.

‘This is Mary.’ Alex hugged the small plump grey-haired woman whose plain face was wreathed in a beaming smile of welcome. ‘Best housekeeper in the world, eh, Mary?’ The little woman giggled and pushed at him with the flat of her hand.

‘Oh, you, Mr Alex, always the flatterer!’