Claiming His Wedding Night (14 page)

‘But when it’s obvious how much he loves you…’

‘The truth is, he
doesn’t
love me,’ Perdita told her flatly.

‘You’re joking, of course!’ Estelle exclaimed. ‘Earlier, while you were talking to Joanie and Howie, I was watching him watching you and I’d stake my life that he’s mad about you.’

Just as she finished speaking, Don called, ‘Estelle, can
you spare a minute? I can’t find the cheesecakes you were talking about earlier.’

‘They’re in the fridge,’ she answered. Then, rising to her feet, ‘Don’t worry, I’ve finished eating. I’ll come and get them.’

Edging round the table, she said to Perdita, ‘Men! Bless their little hearts. As far as they’re concerned, fridges are only used to keep wine and beer cold.’ Patting her bulge fondly, she added, ‘I expect this one will be just the same.’

Estelle had been right about one thing at least, Perdita thought as she watched the other woman walk away. She
did
love Jared. Though, until then, she had refused to acknowledge it, even to herself, she had never stopped loving him.

Was it remotely possible that, in spite of his denial, he still loved her?

She felt a faint stirring of hope.

If by any chance he did, and that love had survived all her mistrust and jealousy, then it must have been strong and enduring indeed.

But if he
had
loved her like that, surely he wouldn’t have taken another woman to bed on what should have been their wedding night?

Yet she had seen it with her own eyes.

So how could she believe he loved her? How could she trust him?

Common sense told her she couldn’t.

But what if, in this case, common sense was wrong?

She was still turning it over in her mind when Jared appeared and strolled towards her.

Taking a seat opposite, he said, ‘I’m sorry if I appeared to abandon you but I was…held up.’

‘I noticed,’ she said tartly, then bit her lip in vexation. Why on earth had she admitted that she had been watching him?

His dark head tilted a little to one side, he studied her before saying mockingly, ‘Anyone would think you were jealous.’

‘Not at all,’ she assured him coolly.

‘I take it you’ve been meeting people?’

‘Yes, but it was a bit awkward.’

He raised a dark brow. ‘They weren’t friendly?’

‘Extremely friendly. They were also curious as to how long we’d been married and where I’d suddenly sprung from.’

‘What did you tell them?’

‘That we’d been married for some time, but that I’d been living and working in England.’

‘Very diplomatic.’

Glancing at her barely touched plate, he went on, ‘When you’ve finished eating, I thought we might make a move.’

‘I really don’t want any more. Have you…?’

He shook his head. ‘I wasn’t hungry either.’

Taking a deep breath, she asked, ‘Jared, do we
have
to go to Las Vegas?’

‘Yes, we do,’ he said quietly. ‘It’s high time this whole thing was brought out into the open before it’s buried once and for all.’

Rising, he took her hand and pulled her to her feet. Then, still hand in hand, they went to say their thanks and goodbyes to Estelle and Don.

‘Going so soon?’ Don asked.

‘We’re off to Vegas for a couple of days,’ Jared said lightly.

Noting their clasped hands, Estelle smiled. ‘Well, Don Junior’s piggy bank is empty and he still needs a baby buggy. So, if you happen to play roulette, put ten dollars on zero for me.’

‘Why zero?’ Perdita asked.

‘When Don and I first got together we had a cat we called Zero, and he brought us luck.’

T
HE
journey was a long one and, while they travelled, Perdita found herself going over and over in her mind what Estelle had said.

‘If you can put jealousy to one side and start to think clearly about what kind of man you’ve got, you’ll soon know.

‘Is he basically a one woman man? Is he willing to be faithful? Is he
capable
of being faithful? Has he enough moral fibre? Enough self-control?”

Everything she had ever learned about Jared made her answer
yes
to all those questions.

So why had she doubted him? Admittedly, what she’d seen had looked pretty damning, but why hadn’t she at least
listened
to him?

Thinking back, she remembered how he’d said, “There might be another explanation, rather than the obvious?”

In truth, it had all seemed so cut and dried that she hadn’t. But suppose there was? Suppose her own jealousy had prevented her looking for it?

For the first time real doubts began to take root and grow with staggering rapidity.

During the early part of their relationship she had been naive and inexperienced and madly in love with him. Had he
wanted to, he could have seduced her with ease, and he must have been well aware of that.

But he hadn’t. He had shown endless patience.
She
had been the one to make the first move.

And when he had told her that he’d been celibate since she had left him, she had believed him implicitly.

So why, in those circumstances, would a man who could exert such amazing self-control stoop to entertaining another woman on his wedding night?

Looked at in that light, it didn’t make sense.

Those new, revolutionary thoughts were still going through her mind when they crossed the State border into Nevada.

By the time they approached Las Vegas, night had descended with the suddenness it always did in desert regions.

Though on this occasion Perdita knew what to expect, she still caught her breath at the first sight of the brilliant, many-faceted cluster of lights that lay in the surrounding blackness like a bejewelled brooch.

Jared had been quiet and withdrawn during the latter part of the journey, as if he were thinking something serious through. Now, a strange note in his voice, he asked, ‘Still think it’s romantic?’

Unsure of his mood, or exactly what he was getting at, she decided to play safe. ‘I think it’s still got the Wow! factor.’

‘Nicely put,’ he commented a shade mockingly, before falling silent again.

As they drove into Las Vegas itself, she asked, ‘Where exactly are we staying?’

‘I’ll give you one guess.’

Of course. She’d been a fool to ask.

Wondering exactly what he had in mind, she queried, ‘Did you manage to get the same suite?’

‘As a matter of fact, I did.’

Feeling uneasy, she asked no further questions, but while
Jared picked his way through the brightly lit streets she watched his face.

He appeared to be still mulling something over, something grave and important, judging by his sombre expression.

Only when they reached the Imperial Palace did he snap out of it, his earlier look of troubled irresolution gone. Now he looked stern and resolved, like a man who had made a bleak but necessary decision.

Leaving the car in the underground parking lot, they went through to the lobby to check in.

The man at the reception desk greeted Jared cheerfully. ‘Nice to see you again, Mr Dangerfield.’

‘Nice to see you, Patrick. How are things?’

‘Sure they’re not bad at all.’ Then, with a glance at Perdita, ‘You’re not here alone this time.’

‘No, I thought I’d bring my wife.’

Patrick beamed at them both. ‘Good to have you here, Mrs Dangerfield. I hope you enjoy your visit.’

Perdita thanked him and returned his smile.

Checking in completed, they took the lift up to the seventh floor, one of the bell hops following with their small amount of luggage.

When Jared opened the door to suite 704, Perdita forced her reluctant legs to carry her inside.

The decor appeared to be unchanged and a glimpse of the bed, with its pink sheets and pink-frilled pillowcases, brought back all the memories she’d been trying for three years to leave behind.

But, as she faced them squarely with her new-found knowledge of herself and Jared, they became relatively unimportant, no longer able to hurt.

When the bell hop had departed, pocketing a generous tip, Jared said, ‘We’ve a table booked for dinner, but I thought perhaps we might pay a visit to the casino first?’

Perdita was no particular fan of gambling but, still unsure how to say what she now knew she wanted to say, she answered, ‘Yes, that would be nice.’

‘Then if you’d like to go ahead and get changed, I’ve a phone call to make.’

When she had freshened up in the pink-tiled bathroom, she swirled her hair into an elegant chignon and made-up lightly, before putting on her cocktail dress and sandals. A touch of perfume and a pair of glittering drop earrings fastened to her small lobes added the finishing touch.

She had just finished when Jared appeared and, with barely a glance, disappeared into the bathroom.

Only too conscious of the fact that he seemed to be deliberately avoiding her, she went through to the sitting room with a heavy heart.

As soon as he returned, freshly shaved and looking coolly elegant in a well-cut dinner jacket and black tie, they made their way down to the casino.

At the entrance desk, Jared paused to exchange a wad of dollars for a pile of fat pink plastic one hundred dollar chips.

Left to her own devices for a moment, Perdita glanced around. The big room with its brightly lit tables, each manned by a croupier, was windowless and, suspended in a kind of timeless oblivion, it could easily have been any hour of the day or night.

Glamorous hostesses, distinguished by black dresses and small rhinestone tiaras, took care of any single male guests, while long-legged waitresses, seemingly clad in little but pink feathers, went to and fro carrying trays of drinks and snacks.

Most of the people there were wearing evening dress and an unmistakable aura of affluence. The air was full of the smell of wine and expensive perfume and noisy with the popping of champagne corks, the calls of the croupiers and the rattle of roulette wheels.

Returning to her side, Jared asked, ‘What do you fancy playing?’

‘I…I don’t really know…Nothing too complicated. I’ve never played before.’

‘Then I suggest you try your hand at roulette.’ He steered her to the nearest table with an empty chair and, having settled her into her seat, put the pile of chips in front of her.

The croupier, who wore a badge inscribed ‘Marylou’, smiled at them and said a nasal, ‘Welcome.’

No one else at the table looked up, but almost immediately a waitress appeared by their side and asked, ‘What can I get you?’

Though Jared looked in anything but a celebratory mood, he ordered champagne.

Marylou droned, ‘Place your bets.’

Following the lead of the player next to her, Perdita slid one of her chips onto a red numbered square and watched the hypnotic blur of the wheel as it spun.

The ball clicked into a space and, after calling out the winning colour and number, Marylou raked in the chips.

Perdita soon discovered that while everyone else seemed riveted, she found roulette repetitive and worrying rather than exciting.

Unwilling to lose Jared’s money, she played cautiously but, even so, the pile of chips was disappearing with great rapidity.

When he suggested getting more, she shook her head.

She was down to the last three when she suddenly recalled Estelle saying, ‘Don Junior’s piggy bank is empty and he still needs a baby buggy, so if you play roulette, put ten dollars on zero for me.’

With a surge of recklessness, probably engendered by two glasses of champagne, she pushed her remaining three chips onto the relevant square.

The number came up.

Collecting her winning chips, she had started to rise when
Jared, who had been standing behind her, pressed her back into her seat.

‘I really don’t want to lose this,’ she protested. ‘It’s your money and—’

‘No, it’s
your
money.’

‘Then I want it for Don Junior’s piggy bank.’

‘That’s fine by me but, now your luck’s turned, you should give it at least one more try.’

‘The same number?’ she asked.

‘Why not? It’s got as much chance of coming up as any of the others.’

She was wondering how much to risk when Jared murmured, ‘Go for it,’ and, leaning forward, pushed the entire pile back on to zero.

While she held her breath, the ball rattled round the wheel and once again settled with a click into the same slot.

A sound like a sigh went round the table as Marylou, her face impassive, raked in the losing chips and paid the winner.

When Jared had converted the chips back into cash, he presented Perdita with a thick wad of notes.

She shook her head. ‘I’d much rather you took care of it.’

‘OK.’ He thrust it into his pocket. ‘When we get back you can put it in Don Junior’s piggy bank. Now, about ready to eat?’

She still didn’t feel particularly hungry but, reluctant to return to their suite with Jared in his present mood, she agreed, ‘Yes, if you are.’

The spectacular dining room, its crystal chandeliers glittering like diamonds, was horseshoe-shaped with a central dance floor from which the tables radiated like the spokes of a wheel.

On a raised dais at the back, where later there would be a cabaret act, a small orchestra was playing dance music and a number of couples were circling the floor.

All the tables appeared to be full, but after Jared had murmured something to the maître d’ they were shown to a
table on the edge of the dance floor where a bottle of champagne was waiting in an ice bucket.

Perdita noticed that there were three chairs and three champagne glasses.

A moment later the orchestra began a romantic slow foxtrot and, rising, Jared held out his hand to her and asked, ‘Would you like to dance?’

She could see at once that his mood had changed, that he had, temporarily at least, thrown off the devil that had been riding him.

They hadn’t danced together since her eighteenth birthday party and, recalling how happy they had been that night, Perdita felt as if a giant fist had closed around her heart. Would they ever be quite so happy again?

She got to her feet a shade unsteadily.

Jared, who moved with a wholly masculine grace, was a good dancer and easy to follow, and she fitted into his arms as if she belonged there.

After a few moments he bent his dark head and they danced cheek to cheek, as they had that last time.

His jaw was smooth and she could smell the faint yet lingering scent of his aftershave.

Letting go of all the worries and uncertainty, Perdita closed her eyes and, the music filling her mind, let herself drift.

After a couple of dreamy foxtrots there was an intermission, and she was still suspended in a bubble of happiness when, an arm at her waist, Jared led her back to their table.

As he seated her, looking at the empty chair and the extra wine glass, Perdita remarked, ‘It looks as if you were expecting someone to join us.’

‘I was, originally. In fact that was the whole purpose of the visit. But then I had second thoughts and asked her not to come,’ he ended with finality.

But, curious, Perdita decided to pursue it. As lightly as possible, she asked, ‘So who is this mystery woman?’

After the slightest hesitation, he told her, ‘A lady by the name of Linda. She used to be a hostess here, but now she’s married to the casino manager.’

With a sudden flash of insight, Perdita said, ‘And she was the woman I saw in your bedroom.’

It was a statement, not a question, but he answered evenly, ‘That’s right.’

Taking a deep breath, she began, ‘Jared, there’s something I want to tell you—’

‘What the hell’s going on?’ A man’s furious voice cut across her words.

She looked up to see Martin hovering threateningly, his face an unbecoming brick-red.

‘Unless you want to get thrown out, I suggest you sit down and lower your voice,’ Jared said coldly.

‘I’m not here to take orders from you. I’m here to fetch my fiancée.’ Grasping Perdita’s wrist, he tried to pull her to her feet.

‘Leave her alone!’ Jared said quietly and, a white line around his mouth, he half rose.

Recovering a little from the shock of the other man’s sudden appearance, and seeing the maître’d looking in their direction, Perdita said urgently, ‘Please, Martin, sit down and let’s talk.’

After a moment Jared resumed his seat and Martin sat down in the spare chair, one man quietly watchful, the other openly belligerent.

Turning to Martin, Perdita asked, ‘How did you know where to find me?’

‘I felt sure something was wrong, so I did a bit of digging. When I discovered that Dangerfield had recently bought Salingers, and that the phone calls I was making to New York were being put through to his place in California, I got on the next plane.

‘The housekeeper told me where you’d gone.’

His voice full of rage and frustration, he demanded, ‘How the devil could you let yourself fall for his tricks a second time?’

‘I’m sorry, I know I owe you an explanation—’

‘Damn right you do! I want to know what the hell you’re doing here with him when you’ll be marrying me in a few weeks.’

Obviously resenting the other man’s bullying tactics, Jared was about to step in when, meeting his eyes, Perdita begged, ‘Please, Jared, will you leave this to me?’

‘If that’s what you want.’

‘It is.’

Turning to Martin, she went on, ‘The thing is, I won’t be marrying you.’

Before he could protest, she added quickly, ‘Three years ago when you came here to fetch me after Dad had his heart attack, Jared and I were already man and wife. We’d been married that day.

‘But you knew that, didn’t you?’

Looking uncomfortable, he said, ‘Not at the time. I only found out later. But surely your marriage was annulled.’