The Valentine Child

Zoe stirred, opening her eyes lazily; the seductive scent of freshly ground coffee lingered in the air. She stretched out a hand but she was alone in the wide bed. Justin must be up making the coffee, she thought, a small smug smile lighting her eyes as the events of the previous night flickered through her mind. She hauled herself into a sitting position, and, flicking the tumbled mass of her blonde hair from her eyes, looked up.

'Good, you're awake.'

'Justin.' He was standing by the bed, naked except for a small towel carelessly tied around his hips, and the memory of the intimacies they had so recently shared made her blush scarlet. It was stupid, she knew, but she felt inexplicably shy.

He leant forward and he felt her heartbeat accelerate, sure that he was going to kiss her, but instead he placed a cup of coffee on the bedside table and straightened up.

'Thank you,' she murmured huskily, vitally aware of his imposing presence and the glitter in his eyes as they roamed over her flushed face. She felt her nipples harden as his gaze dropped lower. She was naked from the waist up and her first reaction was to pull the sheet up, but, with her decision of the early hours of the morning fresh in her mind, she didn't. She was an adult woman and this was her husband. . .

'Very nice,' he drawled mockingly, 'but I haven't time this morning; drink your coffee and get dressed. I'll drop you off at your hotel on the way to the gym.'

'There's no need. I'm quite happy to stay here until you get back,' she replied with a nonchalance she did not feel. She couldn't really blame him for suggesting the hotel. She had given him no reason to believe differently.

She pulled the cover up over her breasts and, bravely raising her eyes to his, added firmly, 'We need to talk, Justin.' She had been a coward once, but never again. 'I have a confession to make; it's important and afterlast night she had been going to say, I realise I love you, but she never got to finish the sentence.

'Last night was a one-off, Zoe,' he cut in ruthlessly. 'Good fun, but I'm not a fool. I know exactly why you were so willing to leap into bed with me.'

'But you can't. . .' This wasn't going at all as she had envisaged. She stared up at him, unable to fathom the brooding look in his dark eyes. 'I only realised myself. . .'

'I do read the gossip columns occasionally.'

'Gossip columns?' What on earth was he talking about?

'Cut out the innocent act, sweetheart,' he bit out. 'I've been expecting you for weeks—ever since lover-boy Wayne got himself engaged to a starlet. What happened? Get tired of you, did he?' he queried coldly. 'Or perhaps tired of waiting for you to be free?'

His black eyes narrowed angrily. 'My God, you have some nerve, I'll give you that. Did you really think you could walk back into my life when Wayne dropped you and expect me to take you back? Was that what your pathetic attempt at seducing me last night was all about?'

She flinched under his tirade, not really following his reasoning. 'No, it's not true,' she whispered, too stunned by his total misreading of the situation even to argue.

She grasped the sheet tighter around her suddenly cold body.

'' 'No, it's not true.''' He viciously mimicked her feeble denial. 'That's your trouble, Zoe; you wouldn't know the truth if it got up and smacked you in the face. You never did, as you proved conclusively years ago when you ran out on me.'

'Please, Justin, you have to listen to me.' She swung her feet to the floor and stood up, the sheet draped haphazardly around her body. He caught her by the shoulders and held her away from him, but she swayed towards him, the urgency in her expression undeniable. 'I know I was wrong before, but I realised last night that I love you, and I.--------------------- '

His fingers dug into her flesh for a second and then he flung her away from him with such force that she fell back across the bed, his fury hitting her like a blast from the devil's own fiery furnace.

'You bitch! You don't know the meaning of the word, and I've wasted enough time already this morning. I'm sick of your games. Get dressed and get out.' And, swinging on his heel, he flung out of the bedroom.

Zoe watched him leave, her eyes filling with tears. She brushed them away with the back of her hand and got up off the bed. She had done her crying over Justin years ago and nothing had changed. What had she expected?

Nothing, her common sense told her. A big fat zero. . . Wasn't that why she'd decided to get him into bed without telling him about Val? Because she knew, had always known, that he didn't give a damn for her? But he would be furious when he found out about Val.

Then she remembered Jess. The woman was probably due back any minute. Last night, in a sensuous haze, she had lost her wits completely. How could she have forgotten Justin's luscious girlfriend? But in the clear light of day the reality of her situation rushed in on her.

Quickly she washed and dressed and went looking for him. He had said that he was sick of games and that was good enough for her. She had no more time to waste. She found him in the kitchen; he was leaning casually against the kitchen bench, drinking a cup of coffee. He looked up as she entered, his dark eyes as cold and remote as a polar icecap.

'You took my advice, I see.' He glanced over her slight figure. She was dressed in her stylish clothes of last night but minus her make-up, and her hair was ruthlessly pulled back and fastened with an elastic band.

'Yes, but before I go I have something to show you.' Sitting down at the kitchen table, she opened her bag and, rummaging around, withdrew a snapshot and held it out to him. 'This is Val, our son—the reason I'm here.' She saw no point in softening the blow; Justin didn't deserve her consideration. When had he ever considered her?

He stepped towards her and took the proffered picture, glanced at it, and as she watched she saw him stiffen. 'I only have your word for that; this child could be any man's,' he said, cynicism icing his voice. 'I seem to remember you and I always took precautions. What kind of an idiot do you take me for, Zoe? Discovered how wealthy I am now, is that it?'

It was lucky that she was already sitting down because otherwise, at his denial of her child, she would certainly have collapsed. She had thought that she had covered every eventuality, but it ha

d never crossed her mind that he would query his part in the parenting. She stared up at him through a mist of pain and rising anger which she did not attempt to hide.

'No, it's not your money I need, it's you. Val is three years old; he was conceived the night of Uncle Bertie's funeral. If you remember, it was the one time in our brief marriage you actually spent the night with me, and we did have unprotected sex.'