What She Wants (61 page)

‘Four hundred pounds, any more bids?’ said Belle, who knew a good thing when she saw it and who had no difficulty recognizing Christy’s saturnine face from amid the throngs of guests. ‘Going, going, gone. Sold to Mr De Lacy for four hundred pounds. Lucky you,’ she added in an undertone to Hope. ‘I wouldn’t mind being sold to that boy for four hundred pounds. I’d let him have me for four pounds, never mind,’ she added with a lascivious cackle. Hope wondered if she should write a cheque for four hundred pounds herself for the charity, seeing as how she had no intention of spending a moment in Christy’s company ever again.

When the auction was over, Belle announced that the bar would be closing in ten minutes. There was a mad rush to the back of the hall. Some people began to gather up coats and bags to leave. At Belle’s request, the bidders came up to claim their prizes and make arrangements to meet up. The hall lights were switched on to full and Hope watched

as Christy, devastating in one of his signature Hugo Boss suits, strolled up to the stage. ‘That was very good of you to bid so much,’ Belle said, eyeing him up. ‘It’s for charity,’ he purred. ‘I wouldn’t have had you down as the charitable type,’ Hope said sharply. Belle glanced at her but said nothing. ‘When are you going to come up to the hotel and sort me out?’ Christy said softly so that only Hope could hear. ‘I’ve missed our little sessions.’ Hope said nothing. She was terrified that someone would hear. Delphine and Eugene were only feet away and Mary Kate was chatting to Shona close by. ‘Can I give you a lift home, Hope?’ asked Christy loudly. ‘It’s on my way and I have to get back to the hotel by half eleven.’ ‘No,’ said Hope abruptly. ‘Eugene and Delphine are driving me home. My babysitter, Geraldine, lives near them and they’re going to drive her home afterwards.’ ‘I can do that,’ Christy said smoothly. Hope shot Delphine a beseeching look but Delphine was busy getting her coat and didn’t notice. ‘Eugene, I’ll drop Hope off,’ Christy said to Eugene. ‘It’ll save you the drive.’ ‘I don’t know … if you’re sure …’ said Eugene hesitantly, his dislike of Christy warring with his desire not to have to drive down the potholed lane to Curlew Cottage. ‘Absolutely,’ Christy said. Unless she wanted a full-scale disagreement, there really was no option but for Hope to pull on her jacket, wave goodbye to everyone and go with Christy. She could have refused him point blank but that would only make Delphine and Eugene wonder why, and then Hope would have to explain that she was a stupid, flirtatious woman who’d made a fool of herself with Christy. Damn him! Couldn’t he see she wasn’t interested?

Christy, however, didn’t appear to see anything.

‘Mind your step,’ he murmured, taking her arm as they walked out the path to the car park.

Hope pulled her arm away as if she’d been scalded. ‘I’m fine,’ she snapped.

He shot her a reproachful gaze with those puppy dog eyes. ‘Tired?’ he asked. ‘Never mind. I’ll get you sitting down in a minute and you can slip off your heels.’ His gaze flickered over her, as if her high heels weren’t the only things he envisaged her removing.

At his silver sports car, Christy flicked the alarm and then opened the passenger door with a flourish.

‘Madame,’ he purred, helping her in.

A blast of deja vu hit Hope as Christy slammed the door and she shuddered at the memory of the last time she sat in the low-slung car. She primly smoothed down her skirt and folded her arms across her chest protectively. If her body language didn’t give him the message, then she’d have to tell him straight up: she loved Matt and she didn’t want to fool around. It had all been a big mistake.

‘Comfy?’ said Christy, sliding into his seat. The overpowering scent of Givenchy for Men flooded the car. He must use buckets of the stuff.

‘Fine,’ Hope replied. She must try to be civil after all. ‘I’m tired, Christy. I’ve an early start in the morning.’

‘Yes, Una’s away from tomorrow. I know you’ll manage, though. You’re very capable, Mrs Parker.’ He shot her a meaningful glance.

Ignore it, Hope told herself.

They sat in silence as Christy drove rapidly through Redlion, with scant regard for the thirty mile an hour speed limit in the village. As the car bumped down the lane to Curlew Cottage, Hope felt relief surge through her. She was home, Christy had said nothing and hadn’t moved so much as a finger in her direction. He stopped the car quietly outside the cottage.

‘Thanks,’ said Hope abruptly, getting out.

To her surprise, he got out too. ‘I’m driving Geraldine home, surely?’ he said, noticing her surprise. ‘Er … yes, but I’ll probably ask her to spend the night,’ Hope stammered, having no intention of sending poor Geraldine off in the car with him. ‘I’ll come in.’ He smiled that wicked smile. Hope fiddled with her key, nerves making her clumsy. Surely he wouldn’t try anything in the cottage, not with Geraldine sitting on the couch watching them? But when Hope entered the house quietly, there was no sign of the babysitter perched on the couch with the television guide on her lap. Hope’s face fell. She had told Geraldine that if she was tired, to leave a note and to go to bed in the spare room. But it was only half eleven, far too early for that, wasn’t it? ‘She must have gone to bed,’ Christy said, silently closing the front door. ‘Yes,’ said Hope nervously. She took off her jacket and looked around for a note from Geraldine, her mind racing. Her chaperone was gone and she had to get rid of Christy quickly before he got any ideas. ‘Well, Christy, thank you so much for dropping me home,’ she whispered, trying to sound like a dinner party hostess getting rid of guests who’d overstayed their welcome and not like a woman alone with a man whom she had a history of kissing. ‘My pleasure,’ Christy purred. He gently laid his keys on the coffee table, shed his suit jacket like a snake shedding its skin, and was beside Hope in one smooth move. ‘Hope,’ he breathed, arms wrapping themselves around her. His glossy head bent and his mouth captured hers, stopping Hope from saying ‘No!’ as his tongue invaded her mouth. ‘No,’ she hissed seconds later, managing to move her mouth from under his. The pressure of his arms increased with one strong hand moulding her body closer to his, and the other crumpling the material of her chiffon dress, drawing it upwards so that he could stroke the softness of her bare legs.

Hope gasped with shock. The sense of unreality about the whole moment meant it was like watching a sexy movie rather than being in one: Christy’s hand burrowed up under Hope’s skirt and Hope felt as if she was watching in the distance as she tried valiantly to push him away. He was surprisingly strong and obviously deaf, because with his head buried in her neck, he didn’t hear her saying ‘Stop it, Christy,’ in a fierce whisper. All she needed was for Geraldine to hear the commotion and arrive downstairs. It would be so embarrassing.

‘Stop it,’ she hissed again and had the satisfaction of seeing Christy straighten up and face her, eyes heavy with lust and with a smidgen of irritation.

‘Oh Hope, stop resisting, you know you want me,’ Christy murmured. ‘You weren’t saying no when we were up at the hotel. I’ve been thinking about you ever since, you are so sexy. Christ, I thought I’d go mad if I couldn’t have you.’

She caught his groping hand with one of hers and pushed it away. There wasn’t anything vaguely sexual about it for Hope. Any shred of passion she might have had for Christy had vanished once she’d realized that kissing him was betraying Matt. And now that he was pulling up her skirt and groping her against her will! How dare he? The sheer nerve of it.

‘Did you hear me?’ she hissed even more loudly. ‘Stop it. I don’t want this and I’ll scream in one minute if you don’t stop!’

She pushed him away and they stood facing each other, hair tousled, lips red and panting, clothes dishevelled from the encounter.

‘That wasn’t what you were saying last time,’ Christy said in a loud, angry voice. ‘You were hot enough for me then! You wouldn’t have said no in the back of my car, that’s for certain. Why have you come over all coy now? Back at the hotel, until my phone rang, you were all for it. Admit it, you were.’

‘I think you should get out of my house, now,’ said a low, angry voice, ‘if you don’t want me to call the police.’

Christy and Hope looked up in shock. Standing above them on the staircase, a face like thunder, was Matt. In an instant, Hope felt her legs go weak.

‘Jesus!’ said Christy, blanching at the sight of a tall, strong rival who had the law on his side and very possibly a baseball bat hidden somewhere. He grabbed his jacket and his keys and was out the front door faster than an Olympic runner out of the stocks. The door rattled as Christy started up his sports car and raced down the drive with a crunch of gravel.

There was silence in Curlew Cottage. Not a nice, peaceful silence either. Hope closed her eyes momentarily and wished she could turn back the clock, just a few minutes would be enough. What had Matt seen? What had he overheard? No matter that she’d been trying to get rid of Christy, the evidence was damning if you didn’t know the facts.

‘I’m so glad you were here,’ she babbled, wishing she could get a bit of strength back in her legs. Her heart was racing after the encounter with Christy, and the shock of seeing Matt was making it race even more. ‘He was all over me and he wouldn’t take no for an answer,’ she said anxiously. ‘I told him to go but he wouldn’t. You heard me telling him to go, didn’t you?’

She stared up at Matt who was still motionless on the staircase. She’d never seen him look so angry in her life. His jaw was clamped in rage and his mouth was a thin line of hate. He looked perfectly capable of beating the hell out of Christy De Lacy. Which was the sort of thing that happened, she knew, when men found other men having sex with their wives. Other men having sex with their wives. Shit. Hope had to sit down. This was happening for real. This wasn’t a TV soap episode. It was her life. She had to make things better immediately.

‘Matt,’ she said weakly, ‘it wasn’t what it looked like. He was coming on to me and he wouldn’t stop, you saw that, didn’t you? I wasn’t interested.’

Matt’s face might have been red with the heat of fury but his voice was at freezing point. ‘I saw a lot of things and I heard a lot of things,’ he said slowly, looking at her as if he was seeing her clearly for the first time in their marriage. ‘What a pity I came back early as a surprise for you and the children. I’m sorry for interrupting your torrid little session.’ ‘It wasn’t like that,’ Hope replied, her voice rising with fear. Matt had never looked at her like that before, so coldly and so full of hurt. He wasn’t even behaving the way he normally did in arguments. Then, he snapped and got angry. Now, even though his face was volcanic, his voice was low and pained. He looked devastated, she realized. ‘It wasn’t like that,’ she repeated. ‘Don’t insult my intelligence,’ he said. ‘I heard you long before you saw me. I heard it all.’ Hope leaned against the couch feebly. Even her hands were shaking now. Matt walked slowly down the stairs and Hope hurried over to him, wanting to wrap her arms around him, to tell him she loved him. He’d put his arms around her and it would all be okay. She got to within a foot of him and he recoiled. ‘Don’t touch me,’ he whispered. Hope flinched. She took a step back, not knowing what to do. She stared at her husband’s stricken face. She would have preferred it if he’d screamed at her, shouted that she was a whore for so much as looking at another man. But that pained, betrayed look on his face: she couldn’t deal with that. ‘Please Matt,’ she begged hoarsely, ‘please let me explain.’ ‘I don’t want to hear your feeble explanations,’ he shot back. ‘You have to,’ she insisted. ‘Please, you never listen to me, you never want to hear what I have to say …’ ‘Oh, so that’s it,’ he said, eyes blazing. ‘It’s all my fault, is it?’ ‘No, but you don’t listen to me,’ Hope cried, ‘you’ve

always been like that. I just want to tell you what happened here. Please listen. It was nothing. He fancied me and didn’t understand I was married, that I love you so much. I do, you know that.’

‘That’s what I can’t forgive,’ he said and his face was blank. ‘I thought you loved me. I was never close to my family and you, you had only Sam and nobody else. We were supposed to be everything to each other, you were my whole family and I thought I was yours. And you’ve just destroyed that.’

‘I haven’t!’ she cried. ‘I haven’t. It was nothing.’

His dark eyes regarded her with something close to loathing. ‘That’s even worse,’ he replied. ‘You’ve destroyed us for nothing. I thought that’s what men were supposed to do.’ For one brief moment, he looked as if he might cry. Hope had only seen him cry twice before, when the children were born. She couldn’t imagine any other circumstance when Matt would cry. But as he gazed at her, she could see his face harden.

He turned away from her and climbed the stairs.

Hope burst into tears and sat on the couch, hugging her knees to her chest and letting the tears run down her cheeks. What had she done? It was all her fault, she couldn’t even blame bloody Christy because all he’d done was flirt with her. It had been up to her to tell him she wasn’t interested but she hadn’t.

A noise from their bedroom made her look up. She recognized the sound of the bottom drawer opening: it was old and stiff, creaking madly when pulled open. There was nothing in there but the remainder of Matt’s working shirts, the ones he wore in Bath but hadn’t needed in Redlion. Hope’s eyes widened in horror. He’d only open that drawer if he was packing.

She ran upstairs and tried to open their door but it wouldn’t budge. It was locked.

‘Matt,’ she whispered, standing in anguish outside the door. ‘Please let me in, please.’

He said nothing and the sound of drawers opening continued. ‘Please,’ whispered Hope, ‘please.’

After a few minutes he unlocked the door and emerged, pale faced now and with the family’s big suitcase in one hand. He was wearing his black suede jacket and carried his laptop case in the other hand.

Hope stepped backwards, ashen. ‘Where are you going?’ she whispered, barely able to get the words out.