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‘No set plan.’ Zac ignored Jessica’s swift glance. He pressed a kiss to his grandmother’s cheek. ‘How’s he taking it?’
To Jessica, the expression that flickered across the older woman’s face was more reminiscent of discomfiture than distress. Her tone when she answered was oddly evasive.
‘As he takes everything. He’s very much looking forward to seeing you both.’ The pause was brief. ‘He’d prefer you didn’t mention his condition. Just treat him as normal.’
The side door led directly into a big stone-floored kitchen. Apart from the dark green Aga range fitted into a wide recess that had probably once been the fireplace, the room was unmodernised, with solid old cupboards and dressers, its rough plastered walls painted a deep warm terracotta. Exposed beams ran across the ceiling.
The woman preparing vegetables at one of the two Belfast sinks looked round with a smile at their entry.
‘Nice to see you again, Mr Zac.’ The glance she cast Jessica’s way was frankly curious. ‘Congratulations to you both!’
Zac returned the smile. ‘Thanks. Jessica, meet Dulcie.’
Jessica made a suitable acknowledgement of both introduction and wishes, gearing herself for what was still to come. She felt terrible again already, and this was only the beginning. The thought of facing a dying man with the same lies on her lips made her want to throw up.
They left the bags where Zac had dropped them, and followed his grandmother across a wide hall to a beamed sitting room beautifully furnished and decorated in period. The figure stretched out on a sofa beneath one of the mullioned windows appeared to be sleeping. Lean in build, with a full head of white hair above a thin but by no means emaciated face, he looked far from the frail old man Jessica had been anticipating.
‘Don’t waken him,’ she said impulsively as Mrs Prescott reached to touch his shoulder. ‘He must need all the sleep he can get.’
She was too late. He was already opening his eyes. Grey eyes, like his grandson’s, though lacking the steely clarity. She found a smile as they locked onto her face.
‘Hello, Mr Prescott. I’m Jessica.’
‘Welcome to the family, Jessica,’ he said, with none of the confusion that might be expected of someone just woken from sleep. ‘I’ve waited a long time for this.’
‘Let Zac help…’ she began as he made to lever himself upright, breaking off as she recalled his wife’s injunction.
‘I don’t need cosseting,’ he rejoined without particular inflection.
His wife looked as if she was about to make some comment, spreading her hands in a dismissive gesture as he gave her a frowning glance. ‘Pull up a chair for the girl, Zac,’ he commanded.
Zac did so, face revealing little of what was going on inside his head. Jessica could only hope his guilt was eating him up to the same degree.
‘So tell me about yourself,’ the old man invited. ‘You’ve certainly got the looks I’d have expected, but there has to be more to you than that to throw a noose round this grandson of mine.’
Jessica shook herself inwardly. Dying he might be, easy to fool he most certainly wasn’t. She was going to need all her wits about her to make this convincing.
‘I’ve no hidden depths,’ she disclaimed. ‘What you see is what you get.’
The chuckle was unexpected. ‘I’ll form my own judgement. So, how did the two of you meet?’
Forward planning certainly paid off, came the fleeting thought. ‘At a party,’ she said.
‘You were drawn to one another across a crowded room, eh?’
She gave a laugh, drawing on her imagination. ‘Actually, we ran into one another—literally—dancing. I put a heel in Zac’s instep, so it was hardly what you’d call an auspicious beginning.’
‘It obviously made an impression on him.’
‘Like being poleaxed!’ Zac’s tone was light. ‘I’ve been out of circulation ever since.’
‘One good woman is worth a thousand of the other kind,’ his grandfather rejoined. ‘You’ve sown enough wild oats.’
‘A man must do what a man must do,’ Jessica observed blandly, opting for a bold approach. ‘I daresay you did some sowing of your own before you met your wife.’
‘I was married at twenty,’ he said.
She bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No need.’ He was obviously enjoying her discomfiture. ‘How about you? Ever been in love before?’
Jessica met the shrewd gaze head on. ‘I might have thought I was.’
‘But you know the difference now?’
In for a penny, in for a pound! she thought, unable to prevaricate her way around a straight question. She softened both voice and expression. ‘Oh, yes!’
Henry Prescott had subsided back into the cushions, though not, it was apparent, with the intention of drifting off to sleep again.
‘What about family?’ he asked.
‘My parents are divorced,’ she said, reconciling herself to the inevitable. ‘Both of them remarried.’
‘I see.’ He sounded disapproving. ‘Brothers and sisters?’
‘No, I was an only child. Fate,’ she added, sensing the question before it was asked, ‘not choice. They’d have liked a son.’ Preferred would have been a better word, though she doubted if even that would have saved a marriage destined from almost the start not to run its full course. ‘I live in London now.’
Would be doing, at any rate, once this was over, she thought.
‘And what do you do for a living?’
Her hesitation was brief. ‘Secretarial.’
‘You’ll be giving it up, of course, once you and Zac are married.’
It was a statement not a question. Easy to see where his grandson got it from, thought Jessica drily. ‘I hadn’t got round to thinking about it yet,’ she said.
The old eyes bored into her. ‘But you do want children?’
‘Well…yes.’ Don’t just stand there! she thought fumingly when there was no word from Zac. ‘Four at least,’ she tagged on, throwing caution to the winds. ‘Two boys, two girls, if we can manage it.’
There was a certain satisfaction in the look Henry Prescott turned his grandson’s way. ‘It took you long enough, but it seems you might have made it good in the end.’
‘Didn’t I just,’ Zac agreed.
Jessica concentrated on her glass, conscience overtaking her once more. She was never going to forgive herself for this! They’d been here less than half an hour. The thought of keeping the act going until at least lunchtime tomorrow was daunting.
Chapter Three
ZAC stayed for a few private words with his grandfather while his grandmother showed Jessica to the room she would be occupying. Furnished to suit the ambience of the place, it boasted a small but beautifully appointed en suite.
‘You have a lovely home, Mrs Prescott,’ Jessica exclaimed impulsively. ‘So unspoiled!’
‘It would have been a crime to make changes other than what was strictly necessary,’ the older woman agreed. ‘I see you’re not wearing a ring yet,’ she added disconcertingly.
‘We didn’t get round to choosing one yet,’ Jessica improvised. ‘It’s all happened so quickly. I’m still having difficulty taking it in!’
‘It came as a surprise to Henry and me too. We were beginning to believe Zac would never settle down. Henry regards marriage as the mainstay in a man’s life. To the right woman, of course. As you might have gathered, he doesn’t approve of working wives. Not outside the home, at any rate. He wouldn’t have been at all happy if you’d turned out to be career-minded.’
Jessica bit back the instinctive rejoinder. ‘You never had any ambition in that direction yourself?’ she asked instead.
‘I never had the opportunity to develop that kind of ambition. Not that I believe I missed out in any way.’
The rider had been added a little too quickly for complete conviction, Jessica thought. Here was a woman who had known at least some degree of frustration with her lot over the years.
‘I’m not sure I could settle for domesticity wholesale,’ she said lightly. ‘I doubt if Zac would expect it of me anyway.’
‘He’ll need to give the impression he not only expects it but insists on it if he wants to stay in his grandfather’s good books,’ came the candid reply. ‘Henry is capable of settling the majority of his company shares on our other grandson if Zac proves himself less than the man he hopes he is. Not something I personally…’
Esther Prescott broke off, shaking her head as if in the realisation of already having said a great deal more than she had intended. ‘Do make yourself at home,’ she substituted. ‘We live a very informal life here.’
Alone in the room, Jessica tried to bring her thoughts into some kind of order. If Zac knew his grandfather’s views, and he must surely do, he’d taken a grave risk in coming up with this pseudo fiancée to start with. Playing for time, he’d said last night, but time had run out on him faster than he’d anticipated.
With so much to possibly lose, there was small wonder for the desperation stakes, she reflected cynically. She could have gone along with the ‘pacifying a dying man’ theme—she had gone along with it—but this was something else again. Zac deserved to be exposed for what he was!
But was she prepared to do it? she asked herself. Could she bring herself to tell a dying man that his grandson had lied to him simply to stay in favour?
The answer had to be no. Which left her with little recourse but to carry on with the deception for the time being, like it or not.
Zac gave her a questioning look when he brought in her suitcase a few minutes later, obviously picking up on the vibes.
‘Something wrong?’
‘I let myself be talked into this to spare your grandfather the distress of knowing you’d lied to him,’ she jerked out. ‘But that wasn’t all you were worried about, was it? You were afraid of him changing his will if he found you out!’
The hard-boned face showed little expression. ‘It was a consideration, yes. He can be quite ruthless.’
‘Something you should maybe have thought about before putting on the act in the first place!’
‘True,’ he agreed with maddening calm. ‘Call it a momentary aberration.’
‘You really don’t give a damn about anything or anyone but yourself, do you?’ she accused. ‘In fact, the sooner your grandfather dies, the better for you!’
It didn’t need the sudden flare in the grey eyes to tell her she had gone too far. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said thickly. ‘That was a lousy thing to say!’
‘If it’s what you think, why bottle it up?’ he rejoined.
‘It isn’t.’ Jessica paused in some confusion. ‘At least, not quite to that extent.’
‘It just came out under pressure?’ Zac suggested on an ironical note. ‘Rather different circumstances, maybe, but I know the feeling.’ He studied her, expression unreadable again. ‘So, what’s the decision? Are you going to insist I tell him the truth?’
‘How can I?’ she said. ‘There’s no knowing what it might do to him. We’ll just have to carry it through. Just don’t try taking advantage, that’s all.’
‘I’ll do my best to keep my distance.’
Jessica shot a glance at him, infuriated once more to see the faint smile hovering about his lips.
‘I see nothing even remotely funny about this!’ she snapped.
‘Me neither,’ he agreed. ‘But better a smile than a frown. However much I might regret it, what’s done is done. Wallowing in guilt isn’t going to help.’
Reluctant though she was to acknowledge it, he was right, she supposed. If there was to be no confession, they were left with no choice other than to continue the sham. With conviction too if his grandfather wasn’t to begin suspecting something.
‘You’ve told him we’re only here until tomorrow?’
‘Not in so many words.’
Jessica hardened both heart and voice. ‘Have you given any thought at all to what you’ll do if he asks to see the pair of us again?’
‘Another bridge to cross if and when necessary.’ His gaze roved her face, his lips twisting. ‘A pity it has to end like this.’
‘It never started,’ she retorted, steeling herself against the response he could still draw from her. ‘I’ll be ecstatically happy never to see you again!’
Humour sprang briefly in the grey eyes. ‘A little overstated for total conviction, but I get the message.’
Jessica turned away, unable to sustain the degree of anger that had kept her going these last minutes. An anger which, she had to admit, had been directed as much at herself for her inability to repress the emotions he aroused in her still. Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough!
Henry Prescott ate sparingly at dinner, though he enjoyed a glass of wine. Watching him surreptitiously, listening to him talk, Jessica found it difficult to believe he was even as old as he was, much less on the verge of dying.
‘We’re usually in bed by ten o’clock,’ said Esther over coffee, ‘but you mustn’t feel you have to retire then yourselves.’
‘Just try not to waken us when you do come up,’ said her husband. ‘At our age, we need our beauty sleep.’
‘You neither of you look your age,’ Jessica commented, and drew an appreciative smile.
‘I’d like to say I don’t feel it either, but it wouldn’t be entirely true. You must make sure you have your children while you’re still young and fit. This modern idea of waiting until middle age is abominable! I had my two sons by the time I was twenty-three.’
His two sons, Jessica noted. She stole a glance at his wife, expecting to see some sign, however faint, of resentment, but her face was devoid of expression.
‘We’re a bit late getting away from the starting post,’ said Zac easily, ‘but we’ll do our best.’
‘Good.’ His grandfather looked from one to the other. ‘So, when’s the wedding to be?’
Jessica drew in a long slow breath. It should have been a foregone conclusion that the question would be asked at some point, but it hadn’t even crossed her mind until this moment.
‘Soon,’ Zac answered.
‘How soon?’ Henry insisted. ‘I’d like to be around for it.’
Esther made a sound as if about to say something, shaking her head as he gave her a sharp glance. It was left to Zac to fill the silence.
‘Weddings take time to arrange. We didn’t even set a date yet.’
‘Then it’s high time you did.’ The older eyes were unyielding. ‘What reason is there to wait if you know your minds?’
Jessica sent Zac an urgent signal via a foot under the table. There was no way they were going to get out of this other than admitting to the whole fabrication, so best to just get on with it and face the consequences.
Zac gave no sign of even feeling the kick. ‘No reason at all,’ he said. ‘We’ll set things in motion.’
‘Good,’ his grandfather said again. His gaze shifted to Jessica. ‘You’ve no objection, I take it?’
She had every objection, but no nerve to voice them. Calling all kinds of curses down on Zac’s head, she managed a creditably steady answer in the negative. This was one bridge he would definitely be crossing on his own. Once away from here, she was out of it!
There was no further talk of weddings, to her relief, but she found it far from easy to act naturally. Zac appeared completely at ease. The hallmark of a born con man, she thought wrathfully.
She refrained from immediate comment when the Prescotts departed, seeking just the right words. Zac forestalled her.
‘Get it off your chest,’ he advised drily. ‘Then we can decide where we go from here.’
‘There’s no going anywhere from here!’ she snapped back, losing track of the flak she’d been about to turn out. ‘You have to tell them the truth!’
‘You think that wise?’ he asked after a moment.
‘I think it quite likely you could lose your precious shares, but I doubt if it will kill him outright.’
‘There’s no certainty of it though. He has little enough time left as it is. Would you want to be responsible for adding to the stress?’
Jessica was silent for a lengthy moment. When she spoke again her voice sounded strained. ‘So, what’s your proposal?’
‘Just let it ride for now.’
‘Where will that get you if he lives longer than expected?’ she asked. ‘And don’t say you’ll cross that bridge if and when necessary, or I swear I’ll hit you!’
‘I won’t, then.’
Jessica glanced at him suspiciously, sensing a certain lack of gravity in his voice. ‘I must have been mad letting you talk me into any of this!’
‘Not mad,’ he declared. ‘Just exceptionally charitable. I can’t think of anyone else who would have agreed to do what you’re doing unconditionally.’
‘Some would have been prepared to take money for it?’
‘I reckon I might have been called on to offer a great deal more than that.’
‘A real engagement rather than a spurious one, you mean?’ Jessica gave a short laugh. ‘I’m sure you’re considered quite a catch, but a woman would have to be pretty desperate to take that kind of advantage.’
‘You might be surprised by the lengths some will go to when it comes to securing a comfortable future.’
‘You’ve been mixing with the wrong type then!’
‘There could be some truth in that. Your cousin aside,’ he added. ‘Leonie regards marriage the same way I’ve always seen it up to now, as something to be avoided at all costs.’
‘So all that talk last night about gaining breathing space to find a woman you could contemplate sharing your life with was so much hogwash!’ Jessica berated.
‘I said up to now. Given the right woman, it might be possible to make something worthwhile out of it.’ He slanted a glance. ‘Fancy giving it a try?’
‘I’d as soon jump off a cliff!’
The sigh was exaggerated. ‘You’re probably right. I’d make a lousy husband!’
The flickering glow from the log fire crackling in the wide stone hearth highlighted the firm masculine features, bringing an all too familiar tension in the region of her stomach. Two nights ago they had shared a bed. At this precise moment she could think of nothing else but the muscular feel of him. Whatever her views on his conduct, there was no denying the need he aroused in her.
He knew it too, if the expression in the grey eyes was anything to go by.
‘Electrifying, isn’t it?’ he said softly. ‘The question is, what are we going to do about it?’
Making out she didn’t know what he was talking about was pointless, Jessica acknowledged. He knew exactly what was in her mind.
‘Absolutely nothing,’ she said flatly. ‘After tomorrow you’re on your own. I don’t want to see you or hear from you again.’
His smile was slow. ‘You don’t lie very well.’
‘It’s the truth.’ She did her best to keep both voice and expression impassive. ‘As Leonie won’t be expecting me back for a day or two I’ll have to check into a hotel for a couple of nights at least. You can pay for that, but nothing more.’
‘And after?’ he prompted.
‘I’ll be staying with Leonie while I look for a job.’
‘No secretarial position alone is ever going to satisfy you,’ Zac declared. ‘You need a challenge in life.’
‘You’ve no idea what I need!’ she retorted, drawn despite herself.
‘Yes, I do.’ There was a wicked light in his eyes. ‘You’re a vibrant, passionate woman aching for the same thing I’m aching for myself right now.’
Jessica was slow to react as he reached for her. The hands curving her upper arms were firm in their grasp though in no way hard, the kiss a heart thudding, stomach curling, totally irresistible force.
Her response was instinctive, all thought temporarily suspended. His mouth was a source of endless pleasure, the silky slide of his tongue between her lips no intrusion. She tremored as the long tensile fingers lightly traced the curve of her breast.
She came to her senses with a jerk. Zac made no move to detain her as she thrust herself away from him.
‘This has to stop!’ she breathed.
‘You’re not going to try making out it’s all one-sided,’ he said softly.
Grateful for the dim light, Jessica made a supreme effort to bring her emotions under control. Her voice sounded steadier at least. ‘Obviously not, but this is as far as it goes. I’m here for the one purpose, and one purpose only! After tomorrow, that’s it!’
‘It doesn’t have to be,’ he said. ‘We could see how things go.’
‘I know exactly how things would go,’ she declared. ‘The same way I imagine all your affairs go! Thank you, ma’am, and goodbye!’
‘Succinct—’ he grinned ‘—but not true. I’ve never had any interest in one-night stands.’
‘Which category does Leonie come under?’
‘Leonie comes under her own category. She certainly has no proprietorial instincts, if that’s what’s worrying you.’
‘In two years, you must have slept together on a fair number of occasions.’
‘With long gaps in between.’
‘And you think I’d be prepared to help fill in the gaps?’
‘That isn’t what I have in mind.’ His gaze roved her face, lingering on the provocative fullness of her mouth. Voice roughened, he said, ‘I want you, Jess!’
The abbreviation of her name failed to irk her; she was too intent on trying to keep her feet on the ground. ‘Why?’ she asked huskily.
‘Why?’ His regard was quizzical. ‘Because you’ve been driving me wild since we met. Because you’re an outstandingly attractive young woman with far more than just your looks about you. Whoever Paul is, he isn’t worth putting your life on hold over. You need to move on.’
‘I already did.’
‘Not far enough. I could make you forget him.’
Her lips twitched involuntarily. ‘You’re certainly not lacking in confidence!’
‘Would you like me better if I was backward in coming forward?’
‘I’m unlikely to find out.’
‘The love of a good woman could make a new man of me,’ he said with mock gravity.
‘Leopards don’t change their spots,’ she rejoined.
‘Black ones don’t have any to start with.’ Zac was silent for a moment. When he spoke again the banter had gone from his voice. ‘Were you in love with him?’
Coming out of the blue, the question took her by surprise. She found herself answering before she thought about it. ‘I believed I was.’
‘How long were you together?’
‘Five months.’ Jessica made an abrupt movement. ‘I don’t see…’
‘Living together?’ he persisted.
‘Co-habiting it’s called these days,’ she said tautly. ‘For what business it is of yours!’
For all the notice he took she may as well not have spoken. ‘You discovered he was seeing someone on the side?’
‘How like men are men!’ she mocked. ‘Yes, he was seeing someone on the side. Only he failed to keep her on the side. I came back early from a friend’s hen night to find the two of them in bed together. A momentary aberration I suppose you’d call it.’
‘Not in those circumstances. Was it necessary to ditch your job too?’
‘I needed a clean break,’ she said flatly, abandoning the satire. ‘Leonie and I kept in touch after she moved to London. It was her suggestion that I take a holiday before starting to look for a job there myself.’
‘As she thinks you’re still on the island, we could spend a little more time here.’
Jessica shook her head vehemently. ‘You do as you like, but there’s no way I’m staying another night!’
‘How would you propose leaving?’ he asked.
‘How would you like your grandfather to know the truth?’ she countered.
‘You wouldn’t.’
He was right, of course, but she wasn’t about to back down. ‘Don’t count on it!’
‘You wouldn’t,’ he repeated on a softer note. ‘You don’t have it in you.’
Jessica jerked her head away as he ran the back of a finger down her cheek. ‘Cut it out, will you!’
‘That isn’t what you want,’ he said. ‘You might think me an out-and-out louse, but it doesn’t alter the way I make you feel. It was there the moment we came into contact the other night.’
‘Lust, nothing else!’ she derided.
‘It’s a pretty good basis.’
‘For what?’
Broad shoulders lifted. ‘Remains to be seen.’