Velvet Promise
Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘DANI, I don’t think——’ Willow’s laughing refusal to let her four-year-old daughter sample her wine came to an abrupt halt as she found her gaze drawn and held by the man just entering the dining-room, the hand she had raised to prevent Dani lifting the glass to her mischievously quirked mouth faltering and falling, the colour draining from her finely etched cheeks.

Jordan St James. She had known a member of the family would call on her sooner or later—after all, that was the reason she had informed them of her visit in the first place. But they had only arrived this afternoon from London, and she had expected a little more time to settle in to the hotel and reacquaint herself with Jersey, the largest of the Channel Islands, before having to confront any of Russell’s family. She should have known that the arrogant man rapidly approaching their table wouldn’t wait for her to go to them!

‘Oh, Mummy, it’s—ugh!’ Dani began to choke as the wine she had sipped in that moment of her mother’s preoccupation hit the back of her throat, her pretty face suffused with colour, her eyes beginning to water. ‘Mummy!’ she protested, blinking rapidly as her throat seemed to be on fire.

‘Darling, I asked you not to.’ Willow took the glass out of the tiny hand next to hers as it wobbled precariously, patting her daughter gently on the back as the alcohol took her breath away.

‘What seems to be the trouble?’ enquired the silky voice that Willow recognised all too well.

She only half-turned to acknowledge Jordan’s presence beside their table, just the brief glimpse she had had of him as he entered the room was enough to convince her he was as imposing as ever, the darkness of his hair gleaming ebony in the light given off by the overhead chandeliers. He had been too far away at the time for her to see the brown velvet of his eyes, but she did know their velvety softness was a deception, that this man was capable of verbally ripping a person to shreds while his eyes maintained their brown velvet warmth.

‘She’s all right now,’ Willow dismissed his concern, handing Dani a glass of water to wash away the taste she was now proclaiming as ‘awful’. ‘I did try to warn you, Dani.’ Her voice softened noticeably as she spoke to her daughter, smoothing back the swathe of silky blonde hair from a face that was still flushed.

Dani screwed up her face. ‘Are you feeling ill too, Mummy?’

She gave a puzzled frown. ‘What makes you ask that?’

Her daughter grimaced. ‘Because the wine tastes like medicine!’

Willow held back her smile with effort, although she doubted Jordan St James found the remark as amusing; he rarely seemed to smile, and she had never seen him laugh. ‘I should stick to lemonade until you’re as old as Mummy,’ she advised gravely. ‘Then the wine won’t taste like medicine.’

Now that her choking fit seemed to be over Dani was taking an interest in the tall, dark man who stood beside their table, oblivious to the curious looks he was receiving from the other guests who had chosen to eat in the relaxed elegance of the hotel restaurant. But that was typical of the Jordan she remembered; he had so much arrogant self-confidence she didn’t think he noticed other people’s reaction to him most of the time. The hovering waiters were certainly aware of the prestigious identity of her visitor.

Dani looked up at him with candid green eyes. ‘You look like the photographs of my daddy,’ she stated quizzically.

Willow gave a start of surprise, turning to look fully at Jordan for the first time. Maybe he and Russell were a little alike: both very tall and dark, their facial characteristics slightly similar, although considering their relationship that wasn’t so surprising. But the similarity was only slight; Russell was a much weaker version of Jordan St James visually, not quite as tall, nor as muscular, his face possessing none of the strength of character stamped so markedly on the other man’s, although for sheer fashionable handsomeness most women would probably consider Russell the more attractive of the two, Jordan’s features being ruggedly harsh rather than classically handsome.

Jordan smiled down at Dani, the dark eyes compelling. ‘That’s because he and I are cousins.’

Looking as harshly forbidding as he did, Jordan’s voice should have been harsh too, but it was as velvety as his eyes, possessing a mesmerising quality that sent a shiver down Willow’s spine.

‘Really?’ Dani brightened at this disclosure. ‘Do you know——’

‘Ah, Barbara.’ Willow looked thankfully at the other woman who was now hovering behind Jordan trying to attract her attention. ‘Could you take Dani up to our suite for me now?’

‘Oh, Mummy, do I have to?’ her daughter predictably protested. ‘I’m not a bit tired and I——’

‘Danielle Stewart, you’ve done nothing but yawn since we got down here,’ she cajoled. ‘Now go along with Barbara. And behave yourself—we’re all tired and it’s been a long day.’

‘Do I have to?’ Dani wheedled again.

Her expression softened at her daughters petulant face, a sure sign of tiredness in her usually sunny-faced daughter. ‘You have to,’ she told her firmly. ‘I’ll be up in a few minutes,’ she promised as Dani reluctantly stood up to join Barbara.

She watched her daughter’s progress out of the dining-room, all the time conscious of Jordan’s ominous presence beside her. But as the animatedly talking Dani left the room at Barbara’s side she had no choice but to turn and face him. It wasn’t easy. ‘Won’t you join me?’ She extended a slender hand to the seat opposite her that Dani had just vacated.

He gave an abrupt inclination of his head. ‘She’s very like you,’ he rasped as he folded his long length down into the chair.

‘Yes,’ she acknowledged curtly, sure that the whole of Russell’s family would have preferred it if Dani had looked nothing at all like the outsider who had dared to marry him.

Jordan’s eyes narrowed at her resentment. ‘That wasn’t meant as a criticism.’

‘No?’ she scorned.

‘No. You’re a very beautiful woman,’ he stated in a flat voice.

She knew that he wasn’t trying to be polite or insincere, that Jordan St James only said what he believed to be fact.

When she had first met this man she had been a wide-eyed innocent with flyaway blonde hair and only a gauche charm at best, but the years of being Mrs Russell Stewart had at least enabled her to attain a veneer of sophistication, to wear only the best clothes, to have her hair styled in such a way it wouldn’t dare be flyaway. Yes, over the years she had at least taken on a surface self-confidence; it was only when she was confronted with Russell’s family that it began to crumble and leave her as vulnerably open as she had been at seventeen.

Jordan relaxed back in his chair, waving aside the waiter’s suggestion that he join Willow for coffee; the dark suit he wore was tailored to the raw masculinity of his body, a brown tie knotted neatly at the throat of his cream shirt. The darkness of his hair was lightly sprinkled with grey at his temples on closer inspection, reminding Willow that he had recently entered his thirty-eighth year. Although he had never looked young to her, and Russell had often taunted that Jordan had been born old.

Orphaned at only five years old, Jordan had been taken into the home of his father’s sister, Simone Stewart, and her husband David, and he and Russell had been brought up as brothers. The sibling rivalry Russell felt for his cousin didn’t seem to be echoed by this self-contained man.

‘However,’ he added softly, ‘beautiful women do not always make the best mothers. They have so many other—interests.’ He met her gaze blandly as the force of his insult made her gasp.

From the moment they had first met just over five years ago Willow couldn’t remember one occasion when this man had gone out of his way to be polite to her. He had seemed to take an instant dislike to her, had only tolerated her at all because she was Russell’s wife. But along with her maturity had come the belief that she was as good as—if not better!—than any member of this family, including the haughty man looking at her so coldly.

‘No more so than any other single parent,’ she bit out tautly.

He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘Most single parents don’t have the wealth that you do and yet still choose to go out to work,’ he drawled contemptuously. ‘How is your business?’

Willow felt her temper rising, knew that her eyes must be flashing like emeralds, natural colour highlighting her normally pale cheeks. ‘Business is fine,’ she snapped. ‘And I don’t go out to work at all; I do all my designing at home.’

‘And who takes care of the shops you’ve opened as outlets for your designs?’

She shouldn’t really be surprised that Jordan knew so much about her; Dani might only be a girl, and not the male heir the family had been hoping for, but she was the only grandchild the Stewarts had, and she had been put in Willow’s custody. Even from the distance of Jersey the family would keep an eye on Dani, and, in doing so, a little on Willow too.

‘I only have one in London, another in New York, and the latest one here in Jersey,’ she dismissed tightly. ‘And each of them is run by completely competent managers. If you’re trying to accuse me of being a negligent mother then I think you should try again,’ she challenged with resentment.

He raised dark brows over those velvety soft eyes. ‘You don’t think plying a four-year-old with wine at…’ he glanced at the plain gold watch on his wrist, ‘nine o’clock at night is negligent?’

She hadn’t been plying Dani with anything, but she wasn’t about to defend her action to this man; she no longer had to explain anything to him or any other member of this family. ‘Which bothers you the most, the wine or the lateness of the hour?’ she taunted.

‘Both!’ he grated harshly.

She gave an impatient sigh and picked up her clutch bag. ‘Dani doesn’t exactly look or act like a deprived child.’ She stood up, nodding her thanks to the waiter who had served her her meal, before walking out of the dining-room, tall and slender, the aquamarine of the gown she had designed herself a perfect foil for her straight drop of silver shoulder-length hair, its very simplicity of style giving it a colour and texture that had been lacking when it hung in a straight swathe to her waist. Besides, that other style had given her the look of Alice in Wonderland, and with the birth of her daughter she had become very much a woman.

She had reached the bottom of the elegantly curved staircase before she felt the firm grasp of steady fingers on her wrist. From her advantage of already being two stairs up she turned and found herself on an eye-level with Jordan for the first time, the effect of those warm brown eyes even more devastating. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the first stirrings of feminine interest in a man she had known for a long time. A very long time.

Her initial reaction to that interest was panic, and she pulled her hand out of his grasp as his eyes narrowed at the action. ‘I’ve arranged to take Dani over to see her grandparents tomorrow afternoon,’ she told him forcefully. ‘I really don’t see the reason for your visit here tonight.’ Except to upset her. And he had done that!

He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers, pulling the material taut across his thighs. ‘I was asked by Simone and David to see if you wouldn’t reconsider staying with them instead of at this hotel,’ he drawled. ‘They only live half a mile away!’

After her divorce from Russell last year Willow had agreed that Simone and David should see their grandchild whenever it was possible for them to do so, and this business trip of hers to Jersey to check on her newest shop had seemed an ideal way for them to do that without causing too much upheaval in Dani’s life. But when she had moved out of the Stewart home three years ago she had vowed to herself never to stay there again. She didn’t intend to break that vow.

‘The hotel is more convenient——’

‘Than a luxury villa where you and Dani could have your own suite of rooms?’ Jordan scorned.

That luxury villa had been her prison for eighteen months, with frequent visits from her goaler! ‘We have our own suite of rooms here, Jordan,’ she dismissed coolly, stepping aside to allow another couple who had just left the dining-room to ascend the stairs.

Jordan looked irritated by even that casual interruption. ‘Let’s go for a walk outside where we can’t be overheard,’ he suggested tersely.

‘I have to go up to Dani,’ she reminded him, shaking her head.

‘Can’t the renowned Miss Gibbons take care of her?’ he taunted. ‘I thought that was what you employed a nanny for!’

Willow’s mouth firmed. ‘Dani will be waiting for me to tuck her in, as I always do.’

He gave a mocking inclination of his head. ‘In that case I’ll get myself a drink from the bar and wait outside for you.’

Willow glanced outside. On this late September night the sky was beautifully moonlit, adorned with a million stars that twinkled and blinked as a warm breeze blew off the sea. It was a night made for lovers to stroll along the golden beaches hand in hand. There had been many evenings like this when she had lived here so briefly, but she had never shared any of them with a lover. And somehow she didn’t think walking on a moonlit beach with bare feet had ever occurred to Jordan!

She nodded coolly. ‘If that’s what you would like to do. I’ll be several minutes,’ she warned. ‘I always read Dani a story last thing at night.’

‘Aren’t you overdoing the devoted mother act?’ Jordan drawled in a bored voice.

‘I am a devoted mother,’ she bit out. ‘Dani and I both look forward to this special time of night.’

‘I’m surprised a busy lady like you can spare the time,’ he derided.

‘Jordan——’

‘I’m sorry,’ he drawled without any real regret. ‘Be as long as you want with Dani; I’m not going anywhere but outside.’

Willow turned and walked away from him, deeply resenting his implication that Dani came anywhere but first in her life. She did work hard, she admitted that, this latest shop of her exclusive designs appealing to both the wealthy residents and visitors on this charming little island and proving more successful than she had ever envisaged. But her career in fashion designing hadn’t succeeded at Dani’s loss; she spent every available moment she could with her daughter. And if Jordan St James had known anything about her other than the black and white reports he obviously received on her he would have known that. But he didn’t really know her, or about the things that had happened in her life to make her a woman of strength and character, a woman who at only twenty-three was one of England’s most successful fashion designers while still managing to be what she loved best of all, an attentive and loving mother to Dani.

‘Feeling better now?’ she asked Barbara after letting herself into the suite.

‘Much,’ the other woman nodded. ‘Jordan St James?’ she sympathised as Willow still looked pale from her encounter with the man.

‘Yes,’ she grimaced, putting her bag down on a table. ‘Dani in bed?’

The other woman nodded; a quiet capable woman of thirty-five, she had helped care for Dani the last three years. ‘She’s tired out,’ she said indulgently, ‘but she’s determined to hear her story.’

Willow smiled at that, knowing from experience that no matter how tired her daughter was she wouldn’t surrender to sleep until she had heard one of her favourite stories, and it was no good trying to cut the story short so that she got to sleep quicker; Dani knew them all word for word! Not that Willow minded; it was a time of day they both treasured, a few minutes of peace and tranquillity after the events of the day.

Dani sat up in bed as soon as Willow entered the bedroom. She was small for her age but the fragility of her appearance was not matched by the exuberant way she approached life, her eyes permanently agleam with mischief.

Willow sat on the side of the bed to hug her, laughing as the small arms clung about her neck, Dani collapsing in a fit of giggles as Willow tickled her to attain freedom. It was a game they played every night, but neither of them ceased to be amused by it.

Dani sobered as she settled back against the pillows. ‘That man downstairs——’

‘Uncle Jordan,’ Willow put in quietly, having no idea if he would welcome or disapprove of the title when he wasn’t really an uncle but a second cousin.

‘Mm,’ her daughter nodded. ‘Did I know him when I was a baby?’

Dani was going through the stage of being fascinated by the fact that she had once been as small as the babies she saw in their prams when they took walks in the park near their home. ‘A little,’ Willow confirmed with a frown. ‘Although I don’t think Uncle Jordan is all that comfortable with little babies.’ She knew she was being kind, that Jordan had barely glanced at Dani until she was a year old and had been able to trample over his feet to get where she wanted to go!

‘He seems to like me now,’ Dani said consideringly. ‘Does he live with Grandma and Grandad?’

Willow shook her head. ‘He has his own villa a short distance away from theirs.’

‘But——’

‘Story-time, young lady,’ Willow put in firmly as Dani’s lids drooped tiredly in spite of her interest in her newly realised uncle. ‘We can talk about Uncle Jordan again tomorrow.’

The expected protest was quickly forthcoming, but Willow soon calmed Dani down as she began to read her favourite story about a rather naughty bear. Unusually for Dani, she fell asleep halfway through the book, and Willow instantly felt a prick of guilt for having to keep her up so late after travelling today too. But Dani had napped at lunchtime before their flight, another unusual occurence for her, and so Willow had allowed the indulgence of the late night. And been soundly criticised for doing so! But criticism from Russell’s family was nothing new.

‘Still think it was a good idea to choose Jersey for your third shop?’ Barbara looked at her concernedly as she returned to the lounge.

She grimaced. When the time came for a third outlet for her designs the natural choice had been Paris, but after careful consideration she had decided it was too obvious, and the feasibility report she had received on Jersey had been much more promising: a lot of wealthy residents, and yet only fourteen miles from France itself. She had decided it was time to bury her ghosts, but she hadn’t realised at the time how difficult that was going to be!

‘I’m a businesswoman,’ she stated firmly. ‘Jersey was the perfect choice.’

‘The Stewarts seem to think so to,’ the other woman drawled pointedly.

Barbara was as much of a friend to her as she was to Dani, had been told from the first of her connection with the wealthy and influential Stewart family. ‘Then I’ll just have to disabuse them of that fact, won’t I?’ Willow said determinedly, once again picking up her bag. She smiled faintly. ‘I don’t have to ask you to listen out for Dani…?’

‘No,’ Barbara smiled; the two women were in perfect accord concerning Dani’s welfare.

Willow paused after stepping from the hotel to watch Jordan unobserved for several moments. Several tables and chairs had been placed in front of the hotel to overlook the bay, but Jordan had forgone the comfort of them to stand by the wall that fronted the hotel, his eyes narrowed as he stared out to sea, ocassionally sipping from the glass he held in his hand, his expression grim. He looked even more forbidding in the moonlight, big and dark, and infinitely powerful.

He slowly began to turn, as if sensing her gaze on him, and Willow instantly moved forward lightly, unwilling to be caught staring at him.

‘Too?’ he prompted abruptly.

She frowned her puzzlement, accepting the dry Martini and lemonade the waitress brought out to her, obviously at Jordan’s request; it was her usual after-dinner drink. She was surprised he had remembered so unimportant a thing.

‘Sorry?’ She prompted an explanation to his question as soon as they were alone again.

‘Dani asked earlier if you were ill too,’ he reminded her grimly. ‘Is she ill?’

Her brow cleared. ‘Barbara had a migraine from the flight,’ she explained. ‘I thought it would be better if Dani and I had dinner downstairs together so that Barbara could sleep it off. It obviously worked.’ Too late she realised she had excused Dani being in the dining-room with her that late at night after all.

Jordan’s mouth twisted as he seemed to sense her resentment at the admission. ‘She’s feeling better now?’ he drawled.

‘Much,’ Willow bit out, her hair gleaming silver in the moonlight. ‘I believe you had some more things you wanted to discuss with me?’ she pressed tautly, wanting this conversation over as soon a possible. And not just because she was tired.

‘The same things,’ he returned harshly. ‘Do you realise the embarrassment you’re causing Simone and David by choosing to stay at a hotel instead of with them at their home?’

Her head went back in challenge, the delicacy of her features clearly etched; wide green eyes, a small uptilting nose, her mouth at odds with those fine features, full and provocatively pouting. ‘Dani may be their granddaughter, but I’m not related to them at all,’ she rasped. ‘And I have no intention of letting Dani go to stay anywhere without me.’

‘You’re their daughter-in-law!’ Jordan’s eyes glittered in the darkness.

‘Ex-daughter-in-law,’ she corrected tautly. ‘I’m sure my staying here at the hotel can’t be any more of an embarrassment to them than actually having me to stay with them! They never approved of me as Russell’s wife and I have no intention of putting Dani or myself through the trauma of being a “guest” in their home!’

‘You never gave them a chance——’

‘They never gave me a chance!’ Her eyes flashed in warning. ‘Who do you think was the more vulnerable, the wealthy Stewarts or the young girl who married their only son?’

‘Simone was upset with the speed with which the wedding took place——’

‘So was I!’ She was so tense, a strong wind could have snapped her in half, her breathing ragged. ‘But little things like pregnancy have a way of showing themselves the longer you wait!’

Jordan’s mouth thinned. ‘You got your wealthy husband, didn’t you?’

Willow stopped breathing at the accusation. Oh yes, she had got herself a wealthy husband, the rich and elusive Russell Stewart, who had decided he wanted her as his wife. But she had been three months pregnant with his child at their hastily arranged marriage in a London register office, and neither Simone Stewart nor any of her equally snobbish friends had ever let her forget the fact.

She drew in a controlling breath. ‘I don’t think the two of us resorting to insults is going to help ease the awkwardness of this situation,’ she told him with a calmness she didn’t feel.

‘I didn’t realise I was being insulting,’ Jordan rasped. ‘I thought I was just stating the facts as they happened to be.’

This man knew what he was doing one hundred per cent of the time, facts or no facts, and he knew he had been insulting her just now. And it was true, she had married a wealthy man, and her pregnancy had been the reason for the hasty marrriage. But Jordan was wrong if he thought she had trapped Russell into that marriage; he had trapped her.

‘Only as you know them,’ she said quietly.

‘As they were,’ Jordan hit out harshly. ‘Russell was devastated when you left him and took Dani with you. The divorce almost finished him completely.’

She was well aware of Russell’s feelings. Just as she was aware of her own. And her only emotion at the time of the divorce had been relief—and freedom. ‘I didn’t come to Jersey to discuss the past—’

‘Why did you come back here?’ His eyes were dark velvet.

‘As you’ve already pointed out, I’m a businesswoman,’ she stated calmly, ‘and this trip will combine business and Dani’s visit to her grandparents.’

‘I take it you will be attending this visit with her?’ he drawled.

She gave him a sharply searching look. ‘Of course. Is there some objection to that?’

‘None at all,’ he returned smoothly. ‘How long do you intend staying on the island?’

Her mouth twisted at the bluntness of the question. ‘Are you part of the same security that requires all visitors to the island to sign a police register when you book into the hotel?’ she taunted.

‘No.’ His harsh tone told her he was far from amused. ‘But you must have some idea how long you intend staying.’

Willow frowned. ‘I’d planned to stay until Thursday,’ she told him somewhat warily; what did it matter to him how long she stayed? ‘I have a fashion show to finish arranging for early next month.’

‘I see.’ Jordan put down his empty glass on the table, his expression thoughtful.

Willow eyed him suspiciously. He seemed uneasy about something, and she had a feeling she wasn’t going to like that something. ‘Jordan, what is it?’ she prompted nervously.

‘Has the island changed much since you were here last?’ he enquired lightly.

‘It’s as beautiful as ever,’ she dismissed tersely. ‘Now tell me what’s wrong.’ Because something definitely was!

He raised arrogant dark brows at the demand. ‘Nothing is wrong.’ He looked out along the bay. ‘It’s rare that I actually have the time to stand still long enough to take in the beauty of St Brelade’s Bay,’ he murmured softly. ‘I forget just how lovely it is here sometimes.’

As one of the numerous financial advisers on the island, Jordan was an extremely busy man, the island being a thriving financial centre with its enviable rate of tax and other benefits. And yet Willow wasn’t sidetracked by his observations at all, knowing he was keeping something from her.

‘You may as well tell me, Jordan,’ she prompted tautly. ‘If you don’t I’ll have to ask Simone,’ she added threateningly, knowing how all the men in the family were protective of the tiny woman who had somehow managed to conceal her steely heart and determined nature from them all.

His mouth tightened at the threat, his eyes narrowed. ‘You’re out of your league with me, Willow,’ he told her softly.

She didn’t so much as blink at his tone of menace, watching as a grudging respect for her entered his eyes. He could keep his damned respect; she just wanted some straight answers! ‘I mean it, Jordan,’ she challenged.

‘So do I,’ he rasped.

A shiver of apprehension rippled down her spine, but there was no outward sign of her disturbed emotions as she continued to silently meet his gaze, willing him to talk to her.

Jordan’s gaze was finally the one to turn away. ‘You’ve turned into a veritable tigress, haven’t you?’ he scorned.

‘I’ve merely become a survivor,’ she bit out.

He shrugged. ‘It may not even happen. He’s said he was coming before and then changed his mind without warning. Simone——’

‘He?’ Willow echoed sharply. ‘You mean Russell, don’t you?’ Her unlacquered nails dug into the palms of her hands, her body rigid with tension. ‘Are you telling me he’s coming here?’

Jordan gave another dismissive shrug. ‘He only said he might visit Simone and David some time this week; nothing definite has been planned.’

‘Did he know Dani and I were going to be here?’ she demanded to know.

‘I doubt it, although Simone may have mentioned it to him. For God’s sake, don’t look so stricken; you were married to him once,’ Jordan added disgustedly.

Russell. Here. Russell, with the laughing blue eyes, overlong dark hair, and with the body of a Greek god. It had been a year since she had last seen him, the first six months of that time spent expecting to see him every time she opened the door or turned a corner, the next six months spent grateful that she hadn’t.

It was this last year of peace and tranquillity that had given her the hope he had changed during that time.

But maybe he hadn’t.

CHAPTER TWO

WILLOW’S first instinct when she crawled out of bed the next morning after a sleepless night was to run, and to keep running. But she had done that when she finally managed to leave him, and he had only found her again, refusing to stay out of her life. Maybe it was time to stand and face him. She didn’t really have any choice; knew, for Dani’s sake, that she couldn’t keep running away from Russell. And maybe, just maybe, he would decide not to come here after all. It was a cowardly wish, but then she had never professed to be anything else.

While Barbara took Dani down on to the beach in front of the hotel, Willow drove into St Helier to visit her new shop, confident she could concentrate on business with the other woman in charge of Dani. The amount of customers in the shop, despite the early hour, showed her she had indeed chosen well for her third location.

It was good to see Marilyn again; she had been in charge of the London shop until moving here; the two of them were old friends. For someone who hadn’t been sure she could adjust to living on an island only forty-five square miles in size, Marilyn had adjusted very well, and was ecstatic about the beautiful weather and the friendliness of the islanders.

Willow enjoyed helping out in the shop for the morning, caught up with the last three months’ gossip with Marilyn in between working, and was satisfied that everything was running smoothly there before she left shortly after twelve, sure that the new lines she would be introducing at the fashion show next month would go over very well here.

She had told Barbara and Dani that she would join them back at the hotel for lunch, and she was buoyed up with the success of her morning as she went down to join them on the beach, coming to a halt part way down the steps as she saw the dark-haired man sitting with them on the sand, with Dani chatting away to him as if the two of them were old friends.

Then the man turned, and Willow’s breath left her body in a ragged sigh as she saw it was Jordan seated there. For a moment she had thought Dani was right, that Russell and Jordan did look alike from certain angles.

Jordan stood up as she approached them, brushing the sand from his hands as he did so. His eyes narrowed as his gaze moved searchingly over her deathly white face. He was dressed casually today, loose white trousers and an equally loose white shirt, the latter with its buccaneer style more fashionable than anything else Willow had ever seen him wear.

The white clothes looked magnificent against his dark skin and colouring, and once again Willow was unwillingly reminded that he was a very attractive man. In the past she had always been too engrossed with being Russell’s wife to really see Jordan in that way, but twice in as many days she had been made physically aware of him. She didn’t like the feeling.

Jordan had never left her in any doubt that he regarded the majority of the female sex with contempt and, although he was sexually in the prime of life for a man, Willow had rarely seen him with a woman, let alone take one home with him. Russell had occasionally hinted at an unhappy love affair in Jordan’s past, but she had never been interested enough to ask what it had been. Now she wished that she had. She had a feeling that with this man it was best to have all the aces in the deck.

‘Mummy!’ Dani’s face lit up as she spotted her; she ran across the golden sand, silver braids flying in the warm breeze, to launch herself into Willow’s arms. ‘Have you finished work for today?’ she asked hopefully.

Willow glanced at Jordan before answering, sensing his silent disapproval of the career that had taken her away from her daughter for the morning, the career he had said she didn’t need. She turned back to Dani. Did she neglect this beautiful child in favour of her career? Trips like this one to Jersey were rare, as were the ones to New York, and Dani always accompanied her when she did have to go away, albeit in Barbara’s care. But she always took care of her business in London while Dani was in kindergarten, her designs usually being created when Dani was in bed for the night.

No matter what Jordan thought to the contrary she was sure she gave more of her time and love to Dani than a lot of women in her position could, or did. And there was always Barbara.

‘For today,’ she confirmed lightly, studiously avoiding Jordan’s gaze as she turned to admire the huge sandcastle Dani had built during the morning, slipping off her sandals to dig her toes into the sensuous warmth of the sand, knowing she looked cool and comfortable in the emerald green shirtwaister with its wide black belt. ‘Everything OK, Barbara?’ She looked searchingly at the other woman as she watched them from her sitting position on the sand.

‘Fine,’ Barbara assured her briskly. ‘Mr St James has been helping us build a moat for the castle.’

‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Dani still clung to Willow’s hand. ‘Uncle Jordan said he would show me a real castle tomorrow. You have to walk out to it across the sea, and——’

‘The causeway is under the sea, Dani,’ Jordan corrected indulgently. ‘You can’t walk out to the castle unless the tide is out; we have to use an amphibious craft to cross before then. And I only said we would go if Mummy agreed,’ he added with gentle reproval.

It sounded as if Jordan had been on the beach for some time, building the moat and suggesting outings to Dani, and she couldn’t help but feel curious about his motive. He had left her last night shortly after telling her of Russell’s proposed visit to his parents; maybe Jordan thought she would go back to England before she had to face such a meeting, She certainly didn’t relish the idea of seeing Russell again, but she had told Simone and David she would take Dani to see them, and she wouldn’t go back on her word.

‘Mummy?’ Dani prompted worriedly at her mother’s lack of response.

Willow smiled down at her daughter. ‘I can take you out to Elizabeth Castle myself, Dani, if you would like to see it. I’m sure Uncle Jordan is too busy at work to take any more time off.’ She looked at him challengingly, suspicious of his suggestion to Dani; he had never given the impression that he even liked children, and yet here he was making sandcastles and offering to take Dani out tomorrow.

He shrugged broad shoulders, the loose shirt moving against the strength of his body. ‘The world of finance can do without me for a few days,’ he dismissed. ‘I’m sure Dani would enjoy the Castle.’

Willow couldn’t stop the protective action of placing her hands possessively on Dani’s thin shoulders, her daughter looked small and vulnerable in the red bathing costume that made her look all gangling arms and legs. ‘As I said, if she wants to go I’ll take her. Or Barbara will,’ she added determinedly.

Brown eyes narrowed, but whatever Jordan had been about to say remained unsaid as Barbara suggested to Dani that the two of them go for a swim in the sea. Dani ran off with a wild whoop of delight, confident that the adults would decide who was to take her to see the Castle, and Barbara had to run after her to catch up with her before she plunged into the cold water.

The warmth of love faded from Willow’s eyes as she turned back to Jordan. ‘It was kind of you take the morning off work to spend time with Dani.’ There was dismissal in her voice, and she knew by the flash of anger in the velvet eyes that Jordan had heard it—and didn’t like it!

He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers, heated anger emanating from his body. ‘How was the shop?’ he bit out.

‘It seems to be doing well,’ she answered, as coolly as he, narrowing her eyes against the sun to watch Dani cavorting in the shallow water.

Jordan nodded. ‘I have several friends who said they’ve shopped there.’

She turned to him with widened eyes; it was the first time she had ever heard him admit there were women friends in his life. ‘At the moment most of them are still curious to see the little toy Russell Stewart’s wife found to amuse herself with after the divorce,’ she derided. ‘Let’s hope they’ll still come in to buy once that curiosity wears off!’

He frowned at her self-derision. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong about their motives. Your designs are considered to be very fresh and feminine.’

‘They are,’ she said without conceit; every one of her designs, but especially the evening gowns she specialised in, was aimed at the softer more feminine side of woman that had been lacking in fashions of recent years. ‘But I met several of Simone’s set there this morning, and they were not just interested in the clothes!’

‘You always did have this strange idea that Simone’s friends disliked you,’ he dismissed with ill-disguised impatience.

‘Despised me,’ she corrected hardly. ‘The daughter of one of Russell’s own employees daring to marry a Stewart!’ She shook her head mockingly. ‘They all expected some little country bumpkin; and I certainly didn’t disappoint them!’

It wasn’t true about the ‘country bumpkin’ image; she had never lived outside the hub of London. But at seventeen, still a college student, and so obviously pregnant, she had felt gauche and unsophisticated when Russell had brought her to his parents’ home to live and introduced her to the people who were his friends, and who would be her friends too, now that she was his wife.

There had been little chance of that! She was the daughter of a salesman, her clothes were obviously made from inexpensive materials, even though they were original designs she had made herself. And she had known nothing of the privileged life those people led, with their sophisticated parties and designer-label clothes. Their morals could never be called sophisticated, only alley-cat, and she had wanted no part of that either. Although that was one thing Russell didn’t subject her to, making it obvious from the first that she was his exclusive property. Everyone thought it very amusing that Russell actually seemed in love with his pregnant child-bride, although it couldn’t be said he had set a fashion, as his friends continued their bedroom games.

‘You were the one who despised us,’ Jordan rasped grimly, also seeming to remember that time well. ‘Looking down that turned up nose of yours at the spoilt and privileged rich! How does it feel to be one of us?’ he taunted.

Her eyes flashed deeply green. ‘I’m far from being spoilt. And I’m certainly not privileged either. I had to work, and work hard, for what I have today.’

‘That isn’t what Russell’s lawyer said after the divorce,’ he scorned. ‘Russell gave you everything you asked for, and more. The poor fool was still in love with you then, wasn’t he?’

Willow could feel her face pale. ‘That’s none of your business,’ she told him shakily. ‘I don’t believe we’ve ever known each other well enough to talk this intimately about our private lives.’

Jordan moved to stand in front of her, ominously close, his gaze moving over her contemptuously. ‘Your marriage to Russell was never private,’ he scoffed. ‘A couple of dates with your father’s boss and you decided you liked the idea of a rich husband,’ he sneered.

‘Getting myself pregnant to make sure he had to marry me!’ she returned heatedly.

‘Exactly. Russell had never met anyone like you before,’ he grated. ‘A sweet innocent—little viper!’

She bit back the fiery retort that sprang to her lips. The things she could say in her defence she had no intention of telling anyone. Ever. Least of all this cold harsh man who was more like Russell’s brother than his cousin.

‘Your parents must have been delighted you managed to catch such a rich prize,’ Jordan continued remorselessly. ‘I heard your father is in charge of sales now rather than just another salesman.’

These were two accusations she could never deny. Her ambitious mother had been ecstatic when told Willow was pregnant by Russell Stewart and was going to marry him. And her father hadn’t been able to believe his good fortune when Russell quickly promoted him until he reached the executive position he now held. Russell had bought them a new house too, in a more fashionable part of London, and even though he and Willow were now divorced her mother still called him their ‘wonderful son-in-law’.

Jordan was quite right in his assumption of her parents’ joy in her marriage, but she considered those things and the money awarded her at the divorce small remuneration for the price she had had to pay.

‘You would have to talk to Russell about that,’ she told him coldly. ‘I see very little of my parents nowadays.’

‘Slightly upset with you for divorcing the golden goose, are they?’ he taunted.

The fact that he was right still hurt more than she wanted to admit. Her parents had never been interested in hearing the reasons she had finally divorced Russell; they were just furious about the fact that she had. She had wished then that she could have seen their greedy ambition when she was seventeen, that the years in between had never happened. But then she had thought of Dani, and realised that something good had come out of the marriage after all.

She shrugged. ‘They still have the house Russell bought them, and my father still has his job.’

‘That’s because at the time of the divorce Russell still loved you!’

‘I didn’t want him to,’ she told Jordan flatly.

Brown velvet eyes moved disparagingly over her face. ‘I wonder what it was about you that so captivated Russell all that time?’

She had often wondered that herself—and wanted to destroy whatever it was! But she couldn’t even be called beautiful, with her gamine features and fine hair; she possesed none of the flirtatious artifice that was supposed to keep a man enthralled and guessing. But Jordan was right, Russell had agreed to the divorce, while still loving her. She had hoped his absence from her life the last year meant that was no longer true.

‘I have no idea,’ she dismissed carelessly. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse us, Dani has to have her lunch before we go to see your aunt and uncle.’

‘You always were so indifferent to the fact that Russell loved you,’ Jordan said disgustedly. ‘I’ve known Russell all his life, watched as women chased after him while he treated them with bored tolerance. And then at twenty-eight he met you, a girl of no more than seventeen, who treated him with contempt most of the time, with bored indifference the rest of the time!’

Never with indifference! If Jordan really believed that he was so wrong. Russell had been too demanding, too much in love ever to be ignored!

Jordan took her silence as confirmation of his accusation. ‘You have the beauty of an angel, the body of a siren, and the heart of a bitch!’

Willow watched him as he strode away, her mouth trembling precariously as she felt herself on the edge of tears. In the past Jordan had had little time for her, and this was the first time he had let her know so verbally his real feelings for her. And he was wrong, so wrong. She didn’t have the heart of a bitch; she didn’t have a heart at all; that had been broken years ago by a man who had coveted it above everything else.

Dani was barely able to contain her excitement during the short drive over to see her grandparents. Simone and David had visited her several times in London, but this would be the first time she had returned to their St Brelade’s Bay home since she was a year old. Willow had to admit she was nervous about returning there herself. Simone had always been polite when she had visited them in London, but here on her home ground she might not feel the need, and memories of past slights by the older woman crowded Willow’s mind as she drove. David Stewart was a different proposition altogether; very easy-going, totally dedicated to the exclusive jewellery he sold here and in his shop in London.

As they neared the house, Willow wondered if she had been wise to give Barbara the afternoon off instead of accompanying them; she would have felt more comfortable with at least one person on her side.

She felt her trepidation grow as she saw Jordan’s dark grey Mercedes parked in front of the low rambling villa that had a majestically beautiful view of the whole of St Brelade’s Bay. The villa itself was built of the local granite, as were most of the other houses and walls on the island, the stone coloured from pink to yellow and browns to pale grey. It gave the modern structure an aged beauty and grace that was usually lacking in new buildings.

But the beauty of the house hadn’t stopped it becoming Willow’s prison in the past, and she trembled slightly as she and Dani entered the cool interior to be shown into the sitting-room where Simone and David waited for them, Simone seated gracefully in one of the armchairs, David slightly slouched on the sofa.

But is was to the tall man standing in front of the long window that Willow’s gaze was drawn. He had changed into cream trousers and a brown shirt since leaving them this morning, and although he showed none of the uncharacteristic anger he had displayed this morning he didn’t look in the least approachable either. It didn’t seem fair that he had been blessed with those velvety eyes when he had a heart as cold as ice!

‘Danielle!’ Simone’s still beautiful face lit up animatedly as she held out her arms to a Dani suddenly gone shy. At fifty-three Simone went to great pains to look at least ten years younger and, with the impishly curling black cap of hair and the slightness of build, she had no trouble doing so. Willow ruefully recognised the cream silk dress as one of her own creations. But she was conscious of the fact that even this concession to the career she had made for herself since leaving Russell might only be for show. Simone was a great one for maintaining impressions; her son might have made the faux pas of taking a pregnant child as his wife, but Simone would never let anyone outside the family see how much she had hated the marriage.

‘She’ll be all right once she gets used to you again.’ Willow tenderly stroked the hair at her daughter’s temple. ‘She’s been talking about you non-stop on the way over here,’ she added hastily as the blue of Simone’s eyes flashed resentfully at the implication that Dani regarded them all as strangers. But it had been several months since Dani had seen her grandparents, and to a child that could be a long time. Although she accepted that that wasn’t Simone’s and David’s fault; she had never been able to fault them as grandparents.

‘How about some ice-cream?’ suggested David, a tall sandy-haired man of about fifty-five with twinkling blue eyes. ‘We have chocolate, your favourite,’ he tempted Dani as she hesitated.

‘With a coloured cornet?’ Dani said eagerly, her shyness evaporating at the mention of the chocolate flavour.

‘Pink or green,’ he nodded indulgently.

‘Green, please! Mummy?’ Dani hesitated, looking at her uncertainly.

‘Grandad makes a lovely ice-cornet,’ Willow encouraged huskily, a lump in her throat as the two of them walked out of the room hand in hand, Dani telling her grandfather about kindergarten. Although their departure served to leave an awkward silence behind them.

‘How are you, Willow?’ Simone finally enquired coolly.

‘Well, thank you. You?’ Willow returned as distantly.

‘The same,’ the other woman drawled. ‘Sit down, won’t you?’

Jordan hadn’t spoken a word since she and Dani had come into the room, and she glanced at him quizzically as she sat down. Why had he bothered to come here at all today if he was just going to stand there like some disapproving statue? Why was he here? He didn’t live here any more, and she had presumed he would be going in to his office this afternoon after missing this morning.

‘Would you like to go for a drive?’ He spoke suddenly, his voice harsh.

‘No,’ she answered instantly, colour flaming her cheeks as she realised how rude that had sounded. ‘Thank you,’ she added awkwardly.

‘Perhaps a walk in the garden, then?’ he prompted again.

Willow looked at him with narrowed eyes, having the distinct impression that he wanted her to go out with him so that Simone and David could be alone with Dani. ‘No—thank you.’ This time the latter came out drily.

‘Really, Willow, anyone would think you didn’t trust David and me to look after Dani for a few hours!’ Simone snapped.

Willow calmly returned the other woman’s fiery gaze. ‘It isn’t a question of trust, it’s just that Dani is still shy with you and David. Another time perhaps,’ she dismissed.

‘God, how you enjoy having the power to say whether or not we may see our own grandchild! You——’

‘Simone!’ Jordan cut in warningly.

Simone stood up. ‘I trust neither of you has any objection if I join David and Dani in the kitchen!’

Willow knew that it wasn’t a statement that required an answer. She put her hands demurely on her lap, feeling the electric tension emanating from the man across the room. Obviously he disapproved of the way she had blocked Dani being alone with her grandparents. At least she had her answer as to what he was doing here; he was supposed to take her off somewhere so that Simone and David spent some time alone with Dani. She had no intention of letting that happen.

‘They love her a great deal, you know,’ Jordan rasped in the silence.

She sighed. ‘I do know.’ She gave an inclination of her head.

‘Then why did you——’

‘Jordan, Dani is only four; at least give her the chance to relax with them before trying to drag me off out of the way!’ She looked at him challengingly.

An angry flush darkened his cheeks. ‘OK, so we weren’t very subtle.’ He sighed, moving forward into the room. ‘They only want Dani to like being with them.’

‘Without my influential presence,’ she said, deriding their tactics.

‘You and Simone never did get on, and Dani is bound to pick up on that eventually.’

‘Can I help it if my most pleasant memory of Simone is her assuring me that no one would dare to slight me in her presence!’

‘She was trying to be kind!’

‘She was implying that her snobbish friends had a reason to slight me!’ Willow snapped heatedly. ‘As if I cared for the opinion of any of them!’ She tossed her head back angrily.

‘You made it very obvious from the first that you didn’t,’ Jordan told her quietly.

She gave him a sharp look. ‘You make it sound as if it were my fault they were all sweetness and understanding in Simone’s presence and bitchy cats behind her back!’

‘Maybe it was, partly. You treated us all with contempt, and——’

‘Oh, I’ve had enough of this particular argument!’ She stood up agitatedly. ‘I think I would like a walk in the garden after all.’

Jordan looked at her silently for several tension-filled moments and then gave an abrupt inclination of his head. ‘Very well. If we go out through the kitchen we can tell Dani where you are.’

Willow was very disturbed by this constant bickering with Jordan every time they met. They had never argued in the past, had rarely found occasion to talk then, let alone argue. It was very disconcerting to find an adversary where before there had only been indifference.

‘I’m sorry.’ Jordan spoke curtly once they were outside in the sun-filled garden, Dani inside enjoying herself as the centre of her grandparents’ attention. ‘I’m prying into something that’s none of my business. As you’ve already pointed out so clearly,’ he added with self-derision.

She glanced up at him, once again shocked by the awareness of him that was the last thing she wanted in her life. Now, or ever. Russell had been enough to last her a lifetime.

‘Have you heard any more from Russell about his plans?’ she asked as casually as she felt able to when discussing seeing her ex-husband again for the first time in a year.

‘No,’ drawled Jordan. ‘But then we didn’t expect to; he’ll arrive when and if he feels like it.’

Yes, that sounded like Russell. He had continued to do the same thing in her life even after she had left him; was always full of demands. This last year of silence had been as unsettling as it was calm and tranquil, like waiting for an axe to drop. Even now Russell was keeping her guessing.

‘Do you see much of him in London?’ Jordan asked casually, and yet she sensed a real underlying interest in her answer.

She looked at him curiously as they strolled through the garden that was Simone’s pride and joy, the wild display of flowers dominated by the pink trumpet of the famous Jersey lily, the blooms seeming to grow indiscriminately when actually Simone spent hours out here achieving just that effect.

‘Nothing at all since the divorce,’ she answered slowly. ‘Why the interest?’

He raised dark brows at her defensive attitude. ‘Dani mentioned that I looked like photographs of her father.’ He shrugged. ‘It seemed a strange thing to say if she sees him very often.’

‘Russell is at liberty to see Dani any time he chooses to——’

‘Will you stop taking every remark as an insult or a personal slight!’ Those velvet eyes darkened. ‘I only wondered at the remark.’

She sighed at her fiery response to what was just curiosity, after all. ‘Russell hasn’t asked to see Dani since the divorce, and children forget so easily… She has a photograph of him next to her bed.’ She shrugged.

At first she had worried about Russell’s lack of interest in the child she had given birth to only six months after their wedding, but as the months had passed and Dani had easily adapted to not seeing the father she barely remembered, Willow had felt grateful for that lack of interest, whatever the reason.

‘So he’s finally stopped loving you?’ Jordan watched her closely.

‘I believe so,’ she dismissed lightly, showing none of the relief she had felt when she realised that had to be the reason Russell no longer haunted her making demands, demands she had met each and every time he asked. ‘Why are you asking these questions, Jordan?’ she taunted. ‘Did you think I might cause a scene when Russell arrives, is that it?’

He drew in a ragged breath. ‘You’re both adults; you’ll have to work that out between you.’

They were both adults now, but she had still been a child five years ago, had been flattered by the interest of a man like Russell Stewart then. He had been eleven years older than her, too old for her, and her parents should never have encouraged the relationship the way they had. It had been too late for her by the time she realised her image of a romantic hero had been a false one as far as Russell was concerned; he was all too human.

‘Then why the interest in Russell and me, Jordan?’ she frowned at him. ‘Don’t your reports keep you up to date on my social life?’

His mouth tightened. ‘If there are any such reports I haven’t seen any of them,’ he rasped. ‘I have no interest in reading about your life secondhand. If there had been something I wanted to know about you I would have come and asked you!’

Willow felt that fluttering awareness that was becoming all too familiar when she was around this man. ‘As you just asked me about Russell?’ she prompted unsteadily.

He nodded coolly. ‘I needed to know that he no longer loves you.’

That fluttering became a veritable surge. ‘Why?’ she croaked.

‘Because that’s the only part of your life that interests me.’

‘I can assure you I have no intention of acting the “siren” where Russell is concerned,’ she scorned.

‘I think that’s as well,’ Jordan shrugged. ‘The two of us have never found it easy to share anything, least of all the same woman’s bed.’

All the colour drained from her face. ‘What did you say?’ she gasped faintly.

His mouth twisted in a humourless smile. ‘I’m sure you heard me,’ he drawled, coming to a halt as she faltered and stopped beside him. ‘You see, that wasn’t a rhetorical question I asked you this morning.’ The leanness of his hands cradled either side of her face. ‘I really do wonder what it is about you that so captivated Russell and made him such a lovesick fool. I mean to find out for myself.’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.