Uncertain Destiny Read online

  Read this classic romance by USA Today bestselling author Carole Mortimer, now available for the first time in e-book!

  Pregnant with her convenient husband’s child…

  Caroline Maxwell knew when she married Justin de Wolfe that their marriage was one of convenience. But drawn to Justin by a fierce mutual passion, the usually sensible Caroline married him knowing that he couldn’t love her—just as she couldn’t help loving him.

  She accepts the hazards of a marriage to the arrogant, magnetic lawyer—his aversion to love, sudden changes in mood and his restless nightmares. But how will Justin react when Caroline announces she’s pregnant with his baby…?

  Originally published in 1987

  Uncertain Destiny

  Carole Mortimer

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘YOU may be pregnant, Caroline,’ her husband accepted coldly, ‘but we certainly aren’t. The child you’re carrying is not mine!’

  She stared at Justin as if he had gone insane. She had just told him the most wonderful news any wife could tell a husband, had been in a state of euphoria ever since she had gone to the doctor this afternoon and he had confirmed her suspicion that she was six weeks pregnant. She had wanted to tell Justin straight away, wanted to rush over to his office and tell him, but had known it wasn’t the right place to break the news to him that he was about to become a father for the first time, deciding a candlelit dinner for the two of them at home would be a much more romantic background.

  The candles still burnt on the table, the roses that adorned its centre still smelt as sweet, and she still wore the black gown she had chosen to reassure Justin that pregnant women could still look sexy.

  And she couldn’t believe Justin had said what she thought he had! He couldn’t really have said that—could he?

  But as she looked up at the coldness of his gaze, the arrogant tilt to his head, the grim set to his sculptured lips, she knew that he had.

  Oh, she knew that they never discussed the possibility of having children, but even so—

  ‘Justin—’

  ‘You see, Caroline,’ he continued dismissively, his voice deadly calm. ‘I’m incapable of fathering a child, by you or any other woman.’ He sipped his wine with slow deliberation, looking at her with questioningly raised brows.

  She should faint, scream, anything but just sit here staring at him as if she had turned to stone. But she still couldn’t believe Justin was denying their child. It had to be a joke, a sick joke—what else could it be? It certainly couldn’t be the truth!

  ‘Did you hear me, Caroline?’ he bit out. ‘I said—’

  ‘Will you stop this.’ Her voice was shrill. ‘Just stop it, Justin. It isn’t funny!’

  ‘I didn’t think so either,’ he drawled, taking another sip of his wine. ‘And I don’t believe you saw me laughing.’

  She gave a pained frown at his too-calm behaviour. ‘Justin, is there a possibility you were drinking before you came home this evening?’ His being uncharacteristically drunk was the only other explanation she could think of for his outrageous behaviour.

  His expression became even colder, his chair pushed back forcefully as he stood up to switch on the main light with a single movement of one long, gracefully male hand. He towered over her ominously as she blinked dazedly in the sudden bright light. ‘I wasn’t aware that I had ever given you reason to believe I’ve become a secret drinker!’ he rasped.

  There had to be some explanation for the nightmare this evening had suddenly become—although from Justin’s cold displeasure at the suggestion, she knew alcohol wasn’t it.

  ‘Justin, I’m having a child.’ Her hands were tightly clasped together in her lap, her back very straight as she sat rigidly in the chair, and she knew she must have the look of a naughty schoolgirl facing chastisement. Her throat arched defensively as she looked up at Justin. ‘Your child,’ she added pointedly.

  He was so tall and dark, as savagely handsome as any young girl dreamt her husband would be. Dark hair was brushed smoothly back from his face, a black eye-patch rakishly covering the blindness of his left eye, but his sighted eye was more than capable of glittering silver with anger or contempt—as it was doing now! The elegant black evening suit should have had the effect of taming him somewhat, but instead it did the opposite, emphasising his leashed power, giving him the appearance of a barely restrained savage being, restricted by civilisation.

  Caroline had been as overwhelmed by him at their first meeting as most people seemed to be, had never ceased to be enthralled by the complex man he was. But this, this she just didn’t—couldn’t—understand!

  He shook his head now, deadly calm, although the coldness of his gaze spoke of a fiercer emotion. ‘Not my child,’ he repeated softly.

  ‘Justin, of course the baby is yours. Who else’s would it be?’ she said exasperatedly.

  His brows rose again. ‘Tony’s, perhaps?’ he suggested mildly.

  Her face paled. Dear God, he couldn’t possibly believe what he was saying!

  Justin moved to pour himself a glass of brandy from the decanter in the drinks cabinet. ‘I think you should have asked him to share all this with you.’ He drank down the brandy as he swept an arm in the direction of the romantic dinner she had planned so eagerly, and her own appearance with her red hair swept loosely on top of her head, her throat and shoulders left temptingly bare by the style of her black gown. ‘Although maybe his wife might have objected to that,’ he bit out hardly before leaving the room in measured strides, the slamming of another door in the house seconds later telling her he had gone to his study.

  Caroline had half risen to her feet as he turned to leave, but dropped back down into the chair as she realised from his flinty expression that nothing she said just now would stop him.

  She leant forward to absently blow out the candles, staring unseeingly at the spiral of black smoke that trailed upwards as the acrid smell filled the air.

  They should have been celebrating now, with the champagne she had asked Mrs Avery to put on ice until after she had spoken to Justin. Instead Justin had stormed out on her, and she was sitting here hardly daring to think of the fact that he had disclaimed paternity of their child.

  Loving Justin hadn’t been easy from the first, and even now they were married it hadn’t got any easier. But she had never before wished she had never met him!

  That first evening had started out well, too, but also ended abruptly…

  ‘I see my dear sister has been out hunting again,’ Tony drawled at her side.

  Caroline gave him a puzzled frown before turning to the door of this private room in one of London’s finest hotels where Tony’s parents had chosen to celebrate their fortieth wedding anniversary.

  Paula Hammond was one of the most beautiful women she had ever seen, tall and elegant, with midnight-black hair, and a figure that was perfectly complemented by the red gown she wore. At thirty-five, she had been married and divorced, taking full advantage of her freedom the last five years.

  Caroline had seen the other woman with many men during the eight months she had known Tony, but never before with the man at her side tonight. She would have remembered if she had ever seen this man before. Any woman would.

  His hair was as black as Paula’s, severely styled, although that in no way detracted from his fascinating attraction. His face wasn’t handsome, more ruggedly compelling, and the eye-patch he wore only added to his
aura of power, his sighted eye flickering uninterestedly over the friends and relatives of the Shepherds who were gathered in the room. His mouth firmed with impatience before he turned to murmur something to the vivacious Paula. With her undoubted beauty and air of sensuality, Paula usually held her dates in complete thrall, but it didn’t look as if this man were as easily seduced; Paula gazing up at him longingly as she obviously spoke to him imploringly.

  Caroline turned away, finding the sight of this usually self-confident woman pleading for a man’s attention, particularly that man, who didn’t look as if he gave a damn whose feelings he hurt if he left now, as he obviously wanted to do, strangely unsettling.

  Tony chuckled at her side. ‘I think I’ll have to have a word with Mum and Dad,’ he drawled. ‘Obviously they forgot to tell my big sister to beware of wolves!’

  She turned back to the man at Paula’s side, frowning a little. He was mesmerisingly attractive, and she was sure she was far from the first woman to think so, but he didn’t look as if he were particularly interested in attracting women to him, his slight impatience of movement giving the impression he didn’t care to exert himself for such a trivial reason. He certainly didn’t seem like any of the self-centred wolves she had encountered in the past.

  Before Tony. For the past eight months they had dated exclusively. She had been looking for a man like Tony all of her twenty-three years, very handsome with his light brown hair and twinkling hazel-coloured eyes, his boyish charm captivating her from the first. She knew it was only a matter of time before he asked her to marry him. And her answer was going to be a heartfelt yes!

  ‘I’m sure Paula is perfectly capable of taking care of herself,’ she lightly chided Tony for his malicious relish concerning his sister. She had learnt early on in her relationship with Tony that although he and Paula loved each other they did like to score off each other. The thought of his sister’s downfall obviously filled him with glee.

  Tony shook his head. ‘She’s chosen the wrong man if she wants to do that. ‘The Wolf’ could gobble her up in one bite!’ His eyes narrowed as his sister leant against the other man, her long fingernails moving coaxingly in the dark hair at his nape. ‘And this wolf always walks alone.’

  The Wolf? She had thought Tony meant the term as an explanation of the other man’s behaviour, but this time he had made it sound as if it were the other man’s name.

  ‘The Wolf?’ she prompted curiously, suddenly breathless as that silver gaze moved over her as derisively as it had the rest of the guests, before suddenly swinging back again, sweeping over her from the top of her fiery-red hair, over the delicacy of her heart-shaped face, down the length of her slender body in the blue gown that matched the colour of her eyes and somehow made her hair look redder than ever, the long length of her legs, to her tiny feet in navy blue sandals.

  His gaze moved back up to Caroline’s face, flushed and hot now, feeling more and more uncomfortable as he continued to watch her while Paula spoke to him so seductively. It was strangely erotic to realise that while Paula was so intent on enticing him into staying with husky promises—no doubt of how the evening would end!—his attention was focused completely on Caroline. She almost felt as if he had reached out and touched her.

  ‘ ‘The Wolf’.’ Tony nodded, turning away from the other couple disgustedly. ‘Paula works for his law firm, de Wolfe and Partners, and he earnt his nickname by always going for the jugular,’ he added drily. ‘He always prosecutes, never defends, and he never loses.’

  Caroline moistened her lips nervously, finding it impossible to look away from that silver gaze. ‘Never?’ she breathed huskily, feeling her hands begin to shake as she held her glass of wine tightly to her.

  ‘Nope,’ Tony confirmed admiringly. ‘I wonder how Paula managed to persuade him into coming here tonight; it’s a sure fact it’s the last place he wants to be,’ he derided as Paula still exerted all the charm on the other man of which she was capable—all to no avail, by the way he glanced at her so mockingly.

  Caroline took advantage of his brief shift of attention to turn away from him, feeling almost weak with relief at being free from him at last.

  She had felt like a prisoner while he gazed at her so compellingly, and she didn’t like the way she still trembled slightly even though she no longer looked at him. He exuded a sexuality that was primitive in its demand, and for a few brief minutes he had been demanding that she be completely aware of him. His appeal was raw, savage, and yet she hadn’t been able to break free of it until he allowed her to. She didn’t know what was the matter with her; she loved Tony, wanted to marry him, and yet just a look from a complete stranger had affected her more deeply than anything else she had ever known.

  ‘—so for God’s sake don’t call him it to his face,’ Tony was muttering.

  She shook off the unsettling feelings Paula’s date for the evening exerted on her. ‘Sorry?’ She gave Tony a questioning smile.

  He met her smile warmly, glancing behind her. ‘I said de Wolfe is only called ‘The Wolf’ behind his back,’ he murmured hastily. ‘Whatever you do, don’t call him it!’ He rolled his eyes expressively.

  She frowned. ‘But—’

  ‘Tony,’ Paula greeted him in her huskily attractive voice that, coupled with her sensual beauty, gave a false impression of a woman interested only in her appearance and what it could get for her. Paula Hammond was one of the most intelligent, shrewd women Caroline had ever met, which made her uncharacteristically kittenish behaviour around the man called de Wolfe all the more unnerving.

  ‘Sis.’ Tony moved slightly to kiss his sister on one creamy smooth cheek.

  Irritation flashed in dark green eyes as Tony deliberately provoked her with a term he knew she disliked. The anger in her gaze promised him retribution later on.

  But the anger faded to be replaced by warm seduction as she gazed up at the man at her side. ‘Justin, I want you to meet my brother, Tony.’ She scowled at her brother impatiently. ‘And his girlfriend, Caroline Maxwell.’ Her smile returned warmly as she looked at Caroline. ‘This is Justin de Wolfe,’ she announced a little triumphantly, her hand firmly on the crook of his arm, resting possessively on the expensive material of the black evening suit.

  Caroline watched as the two men shook hands, her palms feeling damp as Justin de Wolfe turned to her, her breathing suddenly constricted. It was ridiculous, the foolishness completely unlike her, and yet she had a feeling that if Justin de Wolfe should touch her even once, she wouldn’t want him to stop!

  She gazed at him apprehensively, feeling panicked, knowing by the mocking twist to his firm mouth that her emotions were clearly readable to him. She drew in a controlling breath, holding out her hand politely, knowing she had no choice when he arched his dark brow at her so derisively.

  As his long fingers closed over her much smaller ones she felt as if he took possession of her, warmth moving like quicksilver up her arm to rapidly engulf her whole body. She could scarcely breathe, filled with a painful ache she had never known before. And to break the contact was impossible.

  His gaze narrowed, his head going back challengingly as he too seemed to feel the electricity pulsing between them. ‘Miss Maxwell,’ he finally murmured in a throaty voice.

  God, even his voice was compelling, containing a mesmerising quality that ensured everyone would listen to him, even though he only spoke softly.

  This couldn’t be happening to her. She was a sensible woman, a trained nurse who had been responsible for dozens of patients over the years; she didn’t believe in love at first sight. Or even second sight. Love to her was something that grew from mutual respect and interests, as she and Tony had, he a doctor, she a nurse. She didn’t know anything about Justin de Wolfe except that he was lethal in a courtroom, was immune to any amount of female persuasion—and that he was dangerous! And the last was all she really needed to know about him.

  ‘Mr de Wolfe.’ She determinedly extracted her hand from within his suddenly
steely grip.

  ‘Would you care to dance, Miss Maxwell?’ he prompted as the small band began to play a waltz.

  Her panicked gaze flew up to meet his. She was tiny, only two inches over five feet, and he was at least a foot taller; if he held her in his arms her head would be on a level with his heart. And she didn’t want to be anywhere near his heart! She didn’t want to be anywhere near him.

  ‘I—’

  He didn’t give her a chance to refuse him, his hand firm against her back as he guided her on to the small dance floor, maintaining that contact as he took her hand in his and began to move fluidly among the other couples dancing.

  Sexual attraction, that was what this was. What else could it be that she felt hot and cold at the same time, barely knew what she was doing as he moved her expertly around the floor? And if she felt this way about a complete stranger, a man who seemed to distance himself from everyone and everything, then she had no business believing she should marry Tony if he should ask her.

  ‘Relax,’ Justin murmured into her hair, having gathered her close against his chest long ago.

  How could she relax when her whole comfortably safe world was crumbling about her ears? She wanted to run from here and never have to see Justin de Wolfe again!

  He moved back slightly to look down at her, very rakish with that black eye-patch over his left eye. ‘Difficult to relax when you’re burning up with desire, isn’t it?’ he mused drily.

  Caroline gasped at the statement, about to deny it, when he suddenly drew her even closer against him, making her fully aware of his own desire for her.

  ‘That’s right,’ he drawled self-derisively. ‘I feel it, too.’

  Felt what, too? This was utter madness. He was Paula’s date for the evening; she had been seeing Tony for over eight months now. Whatever she and Justin de Wolfe felt for each other, it wasn’t real, was based on mere sexual fantasy.

  If only he didn’t feel so very real as he moulded her so snugly against him that she could feel every muscle in his body!

 
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