Lexi, slightly in awe of her sophisticated, dynamic husband, had dreaded telling him. She knew Jake was hoping to make a deal with Mr Stewart, an American tycoon who owned, among other things, his own airline, along with a tour firm that ran regular trips to England. Jake had explained that if Mr Stewart agreed to use the new Forest Manor hotel as a regular stop for his clients, the hotel was assured of being at least half-full all year, even if it never got another customer. A great deal if Jake could get it.
She need not have worried, because Jake had arrived on the Friday night from London and been a tower of strength, telling her not to worry, his PA, Lorraine, could host the party and all Lexi had to do was look after herself and the baby.
Lexi turned restlessly on the narrow bed. How could life change so drastically from Friday to Sunday? All her hopes and dreams squashed by a wet pavement. It seemed so pointless...
‘Come on, Mrs Taylor. Cheer up.’ The sister who had attended her the night before walked in. ‘You’re young, and time heals all wounds. I know you don’t think so at the minute, but it is true. And it’s also true that I did ring your home last night; a woman answered and promised to give your husband the message.’
Lexi looked at the sister, and she knew Jake’s hand was in the unsolicited statement somewhere.
‘The young woman sounded supremely efficient; I never doubted for a moment she would pass the message on.’
It could only have been Lorraine, Lexi thought resignedly. ‘It’s all right, Sister, I believe you. My husband has been in this morning. Everything is fine.’
‘I wish you would tell him that.’
Lexi heard the sister mutter under her breath as she left the room, and felt sorry for her. Lexi knew personally just how intimidating Jake could be if he thought he had been wronged in any way. She still shuddered to think of the way he had dismissed the foreman on the hotel project last Christmas, frog-marching the man to his car and tossing his gear in with him. Jake was not the sort of man one argued with. Lexi had never tried; far too much in love with him, she would do anything to appease him.
Now, why did that thought make her feel even more depressed? she mused. Maybe losing the baby had made her realise once again how fragile life was, and question her slavish acceptance to everything Jake said or did. She tossed her head to dispel the unsettling notion, and the bedroom door swung open to reveal what looked like a walking basket of flowers.
The junior nurse dropped it on the floor with a sigh of relief and a huge smile. ‘Somebody out there loves you,’ she teased.
Lexi eyed the huge basket with wonder. Masses of roses tastefully arranged with babies’ breath and the message on the card was simple. ‘Love always, Jake.’ The briefest of smiles curved her lips. Just like him: larger than life.
Alone once more, Lexi turned over on to her side, her violet eyes fixed firmly on the flowers. The aching sense of loss was still there, but somehow it did not seem quite so devastating, as long as she had Jake. She smiled softly remembering the first time they met, perhaps it was the mind’s way of dealing with a hurt too hard to face, she mused, as she drifted in a dream-state, recalling the past in minute detail. At nineteen years of age, and having just completed her first-year exams in languages at St Mary’s college, London, Lexi had been called back to her home, Forest Manor, because of her father’s sudden death. Her mother had died three years earlier, only weeks after her father had retired from the Diplomatic Corps. Laughtons had for generations entered the foreign service, and between postings lived in Yorkshire.
The house was a beautiful old stone-built manor. E-shaped, with mullioned windows, oak floors and beautiful hand-carved panelling and situated seven miles from the cathedral city of York, mid-way between the tiny villages of Sand Hutton and Stockton-on-the-Forest.
But on the death of her father his substantial pension had ceased, and the lawyer had informed Lexi that his personal debts were quite large. As one of the Lloyds names her father had enjoyed a good private income for years, but a few years previously he had changed syndicates hoping to make even bigger profits. Unfortunately the reverse had happened, and Lexi had had no alternative but to put the house and its extensive parkland on the market to cover the debt.
Lexi turned over on to her back and stared sightlessly up at the blank white ceiling. It seemed incredible to believe it was under a year since she had first met Jake. She felt as if she had known him a lifetime, so much had happened.
* * *
It was a beautiful July day. Lexi waited in the entrance porch of her home, and watched as a sleek black car drew to a halt in front of the door and the tall figure of a man stepped out.
‘Mr Taylor?’ she queried as the man bounded up the stone steps to stop only inches away from her.
‘Yes, and you must be Alexandra Laughton. Your solicitor said you were young, but he didn’t mention beautiful.’
‘Lexi, please. No one calls me Alexandra,’ she said nervously and blushed scarlet, embarrassed by his frank compliment, and also by the overpowering effect the man had on her. He looked about thirty, and was dressed in a plain white shirt, dark tie and an immaculate three-piece business suit, the jacket stretched taut across broad shoulders and a massive chest. His hair was black and thick, and his face alert and hard. There was no mistaking the fierce
predatory expression on his roughly hewn features. A broad forehead, deep dark eyes, high cheek bones and a straight blade of a nose above a wide, firm mouth. His skin was the colour of polished mahogany.
‘I’m afraid I’m in rather a hurry. So, shall we proceed?’ he said briskly, all business.
‘Y-yes. Yes, of course,’ she stammered, leading him into the panelled entrance hall. ‘You’re very brown. Are you English?’ God! Where had that come from? She cringed; it was totally out of character for Lexi to pass personal comments and she turned red with embarrassment. ‘Please...’
To her surprise he started to laugh and, catching one of her small hands in his, he said, ‘Jake Taylor, luv... Born within the sound of the Bow Bells. A cockney, a tanned cockney, though I believe my father was a foreigner.’ He drawled the last word teasingly.
He was laughing at her but she could not blame him; so far she had not managed to make much sense. Lexi shook her head in a vain attempt to clear her brain, and her long red hair spun around her face in a glittering cloud before settling back on her slender shoulders. She had dressed with care, expecting the first prospective buyer for the house, in a plain, shirt-style straight-skirted cream summer-dress. She had added a minimum of make-up to her golden skin; she was one of those very rare redheads with a skin that actually tanned. Her full lips were carefully outlined in a soft coral lip gloss and a touch of mascara on her long lashes completed her make-up and she’d thought she appeared quite adult, until this man had looked at her.
‘I’m sorry, that was presumptuous of me. Please, follow me, and I’ll show you around.’ Her violet eyes met his once more, and she felt the intensity of his gaze to the soles of her feet. She again shook her head, but nothing could clear her mind and she spent the next hour leading him around the half-dozen reception rooms, up the grand staircase, all around the upper floors until finally they arrived back in the hall with Lexi still in a bemused state.
‘Are you free for the rest of the day?’
‘What? Oh, yes.’ Lexi had to get her brain in gear, but it seemed to be an impossibility. ‘But why?’ she asked, standing once more in the front porch. Common sense told her he should leave: he was too dynamic, too male, and certainly too sophisticated for her. She felt oddly threatened by him, but her foolishly fast-beating heart wanted him to stay.
‘Good. I had only allowed an hour for our meeting; now I think I’ll make a day of it and you can show me around the countryside, then I can get the feel of the place. You understand.’