Claiming His Wife

'You're back early,' she said, her breath snagging at the rapt expression in Guy's warm hazel eyes as he looked at her from the open kitchen doorway. She knew her face had to be flushed from the blast of heat she'd received from the oven, all mixed up with a tide of uneasy embarrassment. She'd meant to be dressed before he got back.

The robe was smothering enough in all conscience, but the implication was that she was naked beneath it, and the way Guy was looking at her told her he was fully aware of that fact.

The situation here was growing more awkward by the day.

Thankfully, it would soon be over.

'Yes. I decided to shut up shop early. There's no business around. Time of year, I guess. Plus, people appear to be organising their own holidays on the internet.'

Guy closed the door behind him, walking further into the room. The kitchen was doll's-house size and Cassie was beginning to feel claustrophobic. Cindy had told her how her brother felt about her, and Roman had suspected it. She should never have allowed herself to be pressured into staying here. He was a dear friend and hurting him was the last thing she wanted to do.

'I thought we might eat out this evening,' Guy said, removing his tie, his eyes never leaving her face. 'There's something I want to say to you.'

'Then say it here,' she responded lightly. But her throat tightened miserably. She hoped it wasn't what she thought it was. Ever since he'd found out about her pregnancy—she hadn't been able to keep it from him; her regular bouts of morning sickness would have alerted a fool—he had been dif­ferent. More serious, more watchful—possessive, even.

'Bastard!' he'd said when she'd reluctantly admit­ted his suspicions were right, pressing him to prom­ise to keep the knowledge to himself, at least until she'd sorted herself out. Because, much as she loved her friend, she couldn't absolutely trust Cindy not to pass the news on to Roman. 'If I could get my hands on him I'd throttle him for what he's done to you!' She reached a head of lettuce from the fridge.

'Supper's already on the way. I've been soaked through once, and so, by the looks of it, have you. I don't fancy a repeat performance. Why don't you change while I finish off? And, by the way—' she reached for a knife and began to shred the lettuce into a colander '—I'll be moving out at the end of the week. I found a bed-sit in Church Street today.' She turned on the tap—anything to break the sudden stinging silence. Then he said, 'There's no need for that. You know there isn't.'

'There's every need,' she responded seriously. 'I want to be independent. It was good of you to take me in—'

'Good!' His mouth twisted on the interruption. 'Don't go all mealy-mouthed on me! Cin and I had to practically twist your arm before you'd take up my offer. Mum and Dad were in the process of sell­ing up and retiring to the Lakes and Cin had just moved in with her boyfriend. Staying here was the last and least-favoured option, so don't try to pretend it wasn't,' he challenged bitterly.

The only other option being a bed and breakfast place, as they'd both been at pains to point out. For the first few days back in the small Shropshire market town where she'd lived for most of her life she'd stayed in a run-down boarding house on the outskirts and had seen what a drain it could make on her mod­est savings.

Finding a job had been her first priority, and she'd only reluctantly agreed to accept Guy's offer of a roof over her head until she could find a place of her own.

What could she say? In the past she'd been thank­ful for his friendship, his help, looking on him as a brother—one more reliable than the one she had! It was only since learning how he really felt about her that she'd wanted as little to do with him as possible. She had first-hand knowledge of how it felt to love and not be loved in return. She didn't want to make him hurt any more than he already was.

She gave him what she hoped was a pacifying smile and turned back to the sink. 'I have been grate­ful, truly. But it's time to move on. It never was a permanent arrangement; you know that. Besides— think about it—you don't want a divorcee plus child cluttering up your space. It would seriously cramp your style. From what I've heard—' she injected a note of wry humour to let him know she wasn't being judgemental or the least bit envious, was merely stat­ing a fact '—you've accumulated a fair few notches on your bedpost in the past.'

She heard Guy approach. Felt his hand on her shoulder, tightening just briefly, heard the compla­cency in his voice as he said, 'If that's all that's bothering you, we don't have a problem. We'll sort this out over supper.'

He walked out of the room and she knew she'd blown it. He had misread her—believed she'd been fishing for reassurance about her place in his life, his intentions.

Roman paid off the taxi as the clock on the church tower struck five and turned up the collar of his leather jacket against the cold driving rain. The brightly lit windows of the boutique reflected splashes of orange and gold on the wet pavements. The sign on the glass door said 'closed', but he could see Cindy's blonde head bent over some paperwork on the desk at the back of the bright little shop.

His stride was as confident as ever, his knuckle-rap on the glass of the door imperious. But inside his heart he was terrified.

He had little doubt that he could persuade his dis­tant cousin to tell him how to find his runaway wife. But would Cassie agree to come back to him? Could she ever learn to love him again? Once, she had loved him—she'd told him as much. But had the precious magic gone for ever?

Cindy's pretty face was wreathed in smiles as she unlocked the door and held it open. 'You've come for Cass,' she stated. 'About time, too.'

He followed her in, the warm, cheerful atmosphere barely impinging, and Cindy said, 'Come through to the back before you drip all over those silk blouses.' Carefully negotiating the racks of colourful gar­ments, he sank into a chair opposite the one she'd been using, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his black denims, his long legs outstretched and his booted feet crossed at the ankles.

'I take it she hasn't sworn you to secrecy on the subject of her whereabouts?' he divined from her opening remarks.

'Of course she has!' Cindy answered blithely, turning to the small counter behind her to switch on an electric kettle. 'But, like the first time she did a runner, I'm prepared to break my word for the good of all concerned. One thing I do promise, though, I'll never tell her that I reported regularly to you, that you persuaded me to give her a job here when Kelly left to have her baby, or that you paid the rent on the flat that was supposed to be one of the perks.'

She spooned coffee granules into two heavy earth­enware mugs. 'Cass grew wonderfully in self-confidence during that year. It would knock her back if she knew you'd been keeping a watching brief. She's such an innocent in a lot of ways. She never questioned why her job with me was so well paid-thanks to your top-up cheques. I don't think she'd be all that happy to know you've been there behind the scenes, helping her. I thought I should warn you against letting that cat out of the bag!'

'Thanks.' He managed a smile but his face felt stiff with tension. Cindy had a point. It had been a joy to see Cassie's new aura of self-assurance, to see her reach her full potential as a woman.

When she'd left him that first time he'd been fran­tic, stunned by the realisation of how much she meant to him. Despite the seeming failure of their marriage, the bitter knowledge that he hadn't done enough to try and make it work had made him hate himself.

His first instinct had been to follow her, do some­thing positive about the situation. Sober reflection had stopped him. Only the

n had he been able to see clearly. All her life she'd been dominated, one way or another. She'd never had the chance to find out who she really was or what she was capable of. Time on her own, without a father, a husband or a clutch of in-laws to tell her what to do and how to do it, would only help her.