Point of No Return Page 10

  Paul came in just then, and so Megan swung away from Jerome. ‘Is everything all right?’ Her voice quivered, her nerves shot to pieces. Animal moans? Had she really done that?

  ‘Fine. Let me drive you home, Mr Towers,’ Paul offered instantly. ‘It’s still pouring down out there.’

  Jerome straightened. ‘I wouldn’t want to drag you away from your—friend?’

  Megan shot a sharp glance at Paul to see if he had noticed that hesitation, but he seemed not to have done. She looked resentfully at Jerome, hating the scorn she could see in his face. ‘I wouldn’t send a dog out on a night like this,’ her insult was unmistakable. ‘Of course Paul must drive you.’

  She finally got them both out of the house, then hurried back inside, tears streaming down her face. She had just told the man she loved that she hated him, and that his hatred of her was genuine was obvious!

  CHAPTER SIX

  GOING in to work the next day took all Megan’s will-power. How could she have let herself fall in love with Jerome Towers? She must be mad, mad! And the opinion he had of her—!

  ‘’Morning, beautiful,’ Roddy swaggered into the study. ‘I hear you had a word with Patsy yesterday.’

  Jerome hadn’t come in, otherwise, Megan had no doubt, Roddy wouldn’t be so sure of himself. Jerome had a way of reducing him to the gauche young man he really was. ‘I tried,’ she said defensively.

  ‘Well, in future stay out of it,’ he snapped. ‘Patsy’s old enough to make her own decisions.’

  ‘The way I did?’ she scorned. ‘I didn’t choose to have you invade my room at the hospital, I didn’t choose to get sacked because of you either.’

  ‘How you love to go on about that,’ he scorned. ‘For heaven’s sake, it wasn’t the end of the world.’

  Megan went white. ‘It was the end of my career! But you couldn’t give a damn about that, could you?’

  ‘Not particularly,’ he shrugged. ‘You don’t seem to have had any difficulty finding yourself a job.’ His eyes narrowed on her. ‘Still got your crush on Rome?!’

  She flushed. ‘I never had a crush on him!’ Which was perfectly true. If it was merely a crush she felt for him she wouldn’t feel so nervous for her own future, would know that sooner or later she would get over her feelings for him.

  ‘Prove it,’ Roddy challenged.

  She frowned. ‘How?’

  ‘Quite easily.’ He took a determined step towards her, pulling her hard against him and grinding his mouth down on hers before she had time to protest.

  Nausea filled her throat and she struggled against him for all she was worth, finally kicking him hard on the shin, a gleam of satisfaction in her eyes as he leapt back with a cry of pain.

  ‘You little bitch!’ He raised his hand as if to hit her.

  ‘Oh no, you don’t!’ Jerome arrested that hand before it made contact with her cheek. He pushed Roddy roughly away from Megan. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’ His eyes burnt like twin coals as he looked at his brother, a white ring of anger about his mouth.

  ‘Megan was—’

  ‘I’m not asking about Megan, I’m asking what you were doing!’ His stance was challenging as he looked down at his young brother.

  ‘We were having an argument,’ Roddy told him resentfully.

  Jerome’s mouth twisted tauntingly. ‘That much was obvious. Was this argument so serious that you had to hit her?’

  ‘I didn’t hit her!’

  ‘You were damn well going to. Now why?’

  Roddy looked sulky. ‘She kicked me.’

  ‘So I saw. I also saw why she kicked you. Oh, get out of here, Roddy. It’s obvious I’m not going to get anything out of you.’

  Once Roddy had reluctantly left them Megan sank faintly down into a chair, the nausea still with her.

  ‘Put your head down,’ a firm voice ordered, a hand resting gently at her nape as he assisted her. ‘Right down,’ Jerome encouraged.

  After several minutes she felt able to sit upright, though her head was still spinning slightly. ‘I—I’ll be all right now,’ and she gave a wan smile.

  ‘You’re deathly white.’ He came down on his haunches beside her. ‘You really didn’t like him kissing you, did you?’ he said in a puzzled voice.

  ‘I loathed it!’ She swallowed down the rising nausea once again.

  Jerome frowned. ‘But I thought—You don’t even like Roddy, do you?’ he said with conviction.

  ‘I hate him!’

  He shook his head in confusion. ‘Then why do you go out with him?’

  ‘I told you I haven’t been out with him, not ever.’

  His frown deepened. ‘Then if it isn’t you who the hell is he seeing? Obviously someone he doesn’t want me to know about.’

  Megan stiffened; she did not want to involve Patsy. ‘I wouldn’t know.’ She pushed back her long blonde hair.

  His hand under her chin forced her to look at him. ‘But you do know who his girl-friend is.’ He was quick to notice the aversion of her eyes.

  ‘I—’

  ‘Don’t deny it,’ he advised softly. ‘I can see you do know.’

  ‘If you want to know any more about it you’ll have to ask Roddy.’

  ‘I intend to,’ Jerome stated grimly. ‘And I shall demand some answers. He deliberately led me to believe—I’m sorry,’ his tone was rigid. ‘It would seem I’ve misjudged you.’

  Megan looked at him beneath lowered lashes. ‘Only seem?’

  He stiffened, towering over her with haughty resentment. ‘I have misjudged you,’ he corrected coldly. ‘And Paul Carter?’

  ‘A friend,’ she answered without hesitation.

  ‘But he would like to be more?’

  She looked down at her hands. ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you aren’t interested?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And then there were none,’ he mused. ‘Interesting. Get your coat, Megan, we’re going out,’ he told her briskly.

  ‘Out? But—’

  ‘In the course of business, Megan,’ he taunted her uncertainty. ‘I may have eliminated the two men I thought were predominant in your life, but I’m not conceited enough to presume you would now be willing to go out with me. Besides—’

  ‘Rome,’ Stella Mitchell appeared in the doorway. ‘Oops!’ she gave a mischievous smile. ‘Sorry, I forgot you’d be with your secretary. I came to take my morning coffee with you.’

  Here was Jerome’s ‘besides’! Stella Mitchell was the woman in his life, and had been for the last year. Megan had no reason to suppose he would want to replace her, and even if he did Megan wasn’t sure she wanted that sort of transient relationship with anyone.

  Jerome’s smile was warm as he looked at the other woman. ‘Not this morning, Stella. Megan and I have to go out.’ He pulled on his thick sheepskin jacket as if to prove the point.

  ‘If you would rather Miss Mitchell went with you …’ Megan said awkwardly.

  His look was cold. ‘I’ve already told you this is a business trip. While Stella may have many accomplishments, shorthand is not one of them.’

  ‘Oh, I see, you want me to make notes,’ Megan nodded her understanding.

  ‘Why else did you think I was taking you?’ he mocked, turning his coat collar up to meet the cold weather outside.

  She flushed and stood up. ‘I’ll just get my coat.’

  ‘Right.’ He turned to kiss Stella briefly on the mouth. ‘See you later. I’ll be waiting outside, Megan.’ His voice hardened.

  She collected her coat from the kitchen, hurrying through the spacious hallway because she didn’t want to anger Jerome by keeping him waiting.

  ‘You’ll pay for that,’ Roddy told her in a husky voice.

  Megan spun round to see him standing at the top of the stairs, a shiver of fear running through her. And she was frightened of this man, had been terrified when he had raised his hand to hit her. Now she didn’t say a word but just turned on her heel and ran, not caring that he w
as laughing at her.

  Jerome was seated in a dark green Range Rover, waiting while she fastened her safety-belt before driving off.

  ‘What happened to the Jaguar?’ Megan opened the conversation; their silence was oppressive.

  ‘Nothing happened to it.’ He was a very careful driver, quick and precise, considerate of other motorists. ‘A Range Rover is easier for driving around the estate, especially down muddy dirt-tracks.’

  Her eyes were wide. ‘I didn’t realise we were going over the estate.’

  ‘I have to check on fences. Bertha’s accident yesterday reminded me I hadn’t checked them over lately.’

  Megan flushed at the mention of Bertha’s accident. ‘We’ll pay you for the fence. Just send us the bill.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ he returned. ‘The fence wasn’t as badly damaged as I thought it was. A few nails and it was as good as new.’

  ‘The nails—’

  ‘Don’t you dare offer to pay for them!’ he ground out. ‘Or I’ll put you over ray knee and spank you.’

  ‘Ooh, nice!’ Megan reacted as she would have done to one of her friends. ‘Sorry,’ she blushed. ‘I meant—’

  Jerome laughed, a genuinely amused laugh. ‘I know what you meant. I was young once.’

  ‘You still are! I mean—’

  ‘Thank you,’ he bowed, his eyes warm with laughter.

  ‘I—er—Isn’t it Jeff Robbins’ job to check on damaged fences?’ she asked to cover her embarrassment.

  ‘It is,’ he confirmed. ‘But Jeff’s leaving at the end of the month—’

  ‘He is?’

  ‘Mm. He was contracted for six months, and he’s decided not to renew that contract. He and Rachel are getting married, you know, and as Rachel’s father is retiring at the end of the year Jeff is going to run his farm for him.’

  ‘And who is going to run your estate for you?’

  ‘I am—until Brian takes over.’

  Megan looked at him wide-eyed. ‘That’s the job on the estate you have lined up for him?’

  ‘Mm,’ he nodded.

  ‘Does he know?’

  ‘No. And I don’t want him told. He has to be given every chance to get your own farm back on its feet.’

  ‘So that it’s in good condition when you buy it?’

  He quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘Do you still believe that?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted huskily. ‘You’re really going to make Brian your new manager?’

  ‘Yes. Hell, look at that fence!’ After that he launched into a list of things he wanted done or changed, so that by lunchtime Megan had quite a long list of things in her notebook to be done.

  ‘Lunch?’ Jerome turned to smile at her.

  She looked at her wrist-watch, surprised to see it was one o’clock. ‘I am getting hungry,’ she admitted.

  ‘The Green Man?’

  ‘Oh, I—I didn’t expect you to provide me with a meal. I thought we were going back to The Towers.’

  He quirked an eyebrow. ‘You don’t want to have lunch with me?’

  ‘Yes. No! I—I’d like to,’ she said shyly.

  ‘Good.’ His hand briefly touched hers. ‘I’m sorry about yesterday,’ he said huskily. ‘About all of it.’

  ‘I—’

  ‘Don’t say anything, Megan,’ he told her with a sigh. ‘Let’s just have lunch. You never know,’ he gave a slight smile, ‘we might even end up by becoming friends.’

  Friends! She didn’t want to be his friend. She forced herself to smile back at him. ‘We might,’ she agreed lightly.

  ‘But you doubt it,’ he accepted dryly.

  She knew it. She couldn’t ever be friends with this man, she wanted him as a lover, not as a friend. But at least now he wasn’t sniping at her all the time, insulting her at every turn. Lunch was pleasant, their conversation polite and impersonal. Megan thought that was maybe a good thing, at least that way they didn’t argue.

  ‘I have to call on the Joneses,’ Jerome told her on the drive back. ‘Tam Jones had a heart attack a few months ago and I usually call on him a couple of times a week to see how he is. Is that all right with you?’

  ‘Yes, fine.’ She frowned her bewilderment. ‘You take an extraordinary interest in the people around here, even more than old Squire Towers did.’

  ‘You didn’t expect me to?’

  ‘Well … no,’ she answered honestly.

  ‘Disappointed?’ he mocked.

  ‘Pleasantly surprised.’

  His mouth quirked. ‘I’m sure you’re disappointed,’ he drawled. ‘The first time we met you had this preconceived idea of what I was like.’

  ‘When I thought you were Jeff Robbins,’ she said with remembered resentment.

  Jerome smiled. ‘At least I found out what you thought of me. Who did you get that impression from?’

  ‘I—Your uncle always said you were—’

  ‘Ah,’ he nodded. ‘My uncle. Uncle Henry told you I was a pompous, arrogant snob, with ideas above my station.’ Megan almost gaped. ‘You knew what he said about you?’

  He laughed at her surprise. ‘He felt no compunction about saying it to my face.’

  ‘I see,’ she bit her lip. ‘Well, he did call you that, many times, but I don’t remember him ever saying anything about being above your station. Why did he resent you so much?’

  ‘Dislike, Megan,’ Jerome corrected. ‘My uncle disliked me intensely. He would have left The Towers to someone else if he could, but unfortunately for him the estate is entailed and always passes to the eldest male heir.’

  ‘Why did he dislike you?’ Her curiosity was fully aroused now.

  ‘Does that mean you don’t think I’m a pompous, arrogant snob?’

  She blushed. ‘You know I don’t.’

  ‘I hope you don’t. My uncle disliked me because of who my mother was. Don’t look like that, Megan!’ he chuckled. ‘She wasn’t a murderess or anything like that, she just happened to be Italian.’

  So that was where he got those gorgeous brown eyes from, and the slight darkness to his skin.

  ‘Uncle Henry had a dread of “furriners”,’ Jerome mocked. ‘Although strangely enough this dislike didn’t apply to Roddy too,’ he shrugged. ‘Maybe because Roddy is so fair. Anyway, for whatever reason, he didn’t like me. You know the state everything at The Towers was in when he died? Well, I’d offered to help him, after all it was my inheritance, but he turned me down. Do you know why?’ he mused. ‘Because it was my mother’s money, left to me when she died. When my father married my mother Uncle Henry didn’t speak to him ever again.’

  Megan had been totally wrong about this man! She had taken other people’s opinions of him and made them her own, without even giving him a chance to prove them wrong.

  ‘You can wait here if you like.’ Jerome climbed down from the Range Rover. ‘I’ll only be with Tam a few minutes.’

  ‘How is he?’ she asked.

  ‘Angry with his own weakness.’

  Remembering Tam Jones’ explosive Welsh temper, Megan opted to stay in the Range Rover. Tam wouldn’t be a man to have patience with his illness, and she didn’t think he would welcome her seeing him like that. She spotted Donald in the backyard a few minutes after Jerome had left her and decided to go and have a chat with him. Maybe she would inadvertently find out what was wrong with his marriage to Patsy. Not that she thought he would turn around and tell her, he was as clam-like as his father, but he might let something slip without realising it.

  ‘Hello, Donald,’ she greeted brightly.

  ‘Megan,’ he nodded, continuing to load up the van with his building supplies. He and his father were in business together, taking care of all the small local jobs that needed doing. Maybe that was the trouble, maybe with his father ill he was having to take too much of the work on himself and was neglecting Patsy.

  ‘Keeping busy?’ she probed.

  ‘Quite busy.’ He hefted bags of cement into the back of the van. ‘Was that
Mr Towers I saw go into the house?’

  ‘Yes,’ she nodded. Why had she never noticed the respect everyone had when talking about or to Jerome? The people around here were a close-knit bunch, and for him to have made such an impression meant that she had been totally wrong about him. She had been letting her prejudices blind her. But not any more! Now her eyes were wide open—and the pain of loving him was even worse than disliking him. ‘He’s come to see your father,’ she explained.

  Donald didn’t seem surprised by this information. ‘Dad should be back at work soon. Another few weeks, the doctor said.’

  ‘I suppose you’ll be relieved,’ she said lightly. ‘It can’t have been very easy on you and Patsy this last few months.’

  He shrugged. ‘I’m okay, and Patsy has Mum for company when I’m not around.’

  ‘Your mother? But surely—’

  ‘Didn’t you know, Patsy and I have been living here since Dad had his attack.’

  ‘Here?’ she echoed sharply. ‘You’re living here?’

  ‘Mm. It isn’t the ideal situation, we have to sleep in the lounge every night, but we should be able to move back to our own home soon. I thought it better to stay here, my mother needed me.’

  And what about Patsy? Poor Patsy, no wonder she had turned to another man! She and Donald could only have been married a few weeks when Tarn had his heart attack, and knowing how small and cramped these cottages could be she could sympathise with them. It certainly wasn’t the ideal situation, as Donald had said it wasn’t—far from it, she would have said. They would have absolutely no privacy, and Donald’s little brother—who obviously occupied the second bedroom—was a mischievous little wretch. He probably took great delight in taunting the newly married couple, and in Patsy’s already nervous state that could be disastrous to the relationship.

  She almost groaned as she saw Patsy come out of the cottage, a furiously resentful look in her eyes. ‘Why didn’t you come into the house, Megan?’ her voice was brittle. ‘You could have had a cup of coffee while you waited for Mr Towers.’

  Megan smiled. ‘That would have been nice, but Mr Towers said he wasn’t going to be long.’

  ‘He’s a busy man.’ Donald loaded the last of the cement. ‘It’s good of him to call at all.’ He bent to kiss Patsy briefly on the mouth. ‘See you later, love. ‘Bye, Megan.’