Private Lives Read online

  Fin’s frown deepened at this. ‘Is that usual?’ she voiced her concern. ‘Couldn’t he have just told you yes or no over the telephone?’

  ‘Positive or negative, darling,’ her mother corrected vaguely, sitting on the edge of Fin’s desk. ‘Knowing Dr Ambrose, he either wants to lecture me on the advisability of having a baby at my age, if it’s positive!’ She grimaced. ‘Or else he wants to give me a shoulder to cry on if it’s negative! Either way,’ she shrugged, ‘he wants to see me.’

  Her mother was probably right, Fin realised ruefully; Dr Ambrose was one of the old-fashioned type of family doctors that were few and far between nowadays, the sort that seemed more like a family friend than the physician.

  Nevertheless, Fin still felt anxious. ‘You’ll call me as soon as you’ve seen him,’ she prompted, knowing that, ‘either way’, she was going to be worried too; her mother was a little old to be having another baby, but if it turned out she wasn’t pregnant after all she was going to be very upset about it. It was a pity in a way that David didn’t yet know about the pregnancy test; he would have known best how to deal with Jenny’s initial disappointment if it was negative. But Fin knew she dared not risk her mother’s surprise by confiding in David herself—that would be unforgivable. She would just have to keep her fingers crossed—and anything else she could think of!

  ‘That was the reason I popped in, really.’ Her mother straightened, glancing at her wrist-watch. ‘I have to get along for my appointment now, but how about meeting me for lunch later? We can either celebrate or commiserate,’ she grimaced, obviously not at all sure which it was going to be!

  Fin certainly wasn’t in the mood for another one of Derek’s lectures at lunchtime about her involvement with the amateur dramatic society, and if she made the excuse that she couldn’t meet him because she was having lunch with her mother he could hardly object, could he? She wouldn’t even have to speak to him and so run the risk of a lecture anyway; she could leave a message with his secretary. Coward, a little voice inside her whispered mockingly. But she ignored it.

  ‘Lovely,’ she accepted her mother’s invitation. ‘Now I’ll have to get going myself,’ she realised. ‘Within the hour’, she had told Jake Danvers, and the minutes were ticking away fast. She hurried into the adjoining room to get out her carpet-shampooing equipment.

  Her mother watched her as she checked the equipment over. ‘Emergency?’

  ‘Helpless male needing the carpet cleaned after a little accident before the lady of the house gets home,’ she dismissed a little unfairly; the last thing Jake Danvers could be accused of being was ‘helpless’. A lot of other things, perhaps, but certainly not helpless!

  ‘See you later, darling.’ Her mother gave her a glowing smile as they parted outside the office. Fin watched her mother walk down the street, a beautiful woman who radiated happiness and contentment with her life.

  Fin couldn’t help wondering how long that would continue if her mother should realise exactly whose carpet she was hurrying off to clean. God, she must never know!

  * * *

  ‘So you and your fellow elf concluded yesterday that I had drunk the whole contents of the bottle of whisky before falling into a drunken stupor,’ Jake Danvers drawled drily.

  Fin straightened slowly, her back aching. For the last half an hour she had been working on the carpet in Gail’s bedroom to try to eliminate the overpowering smell of whisky; no wonder he had decided he had to get something done about it—if anything, it was even worse today than it had been yesterday!

  ‘That particular joke is starting to wear a little thin, Mr Danvers,’ she told him wearily, not seeming, for all her exertions, to have made the slightest impression on the smell of whisky in the carpet.

  And the whole of the time she had worked Jake Danvers had sat in the bedroom chair, watching her. Very disconcerting—even if he was fully clothed today!

  ‘Sorry,’ he drawled—but he didn’t look it! ‘But I was right about the whisky, wasn’t I?’ he murmured with some amusement.

  No doubt he was very often right about a lot of things, Fin thought disgruntledly, back on her hands and knees, scrubbing at the carpet. If he was always so right he should have got something done about this carpet earlier, not let it soak in and dry before calling in help!

  ‘For your information, Fin McKenzie,’ he continued mockingly, ‘the night I arrived here I went to bed suffering from the effects of a little whisky—and a lot of jet lag! I had only flown in from the States that morning, and then I had to drive up here; I was exhausted by the time I finally fell into bed. Which is probably the reason I didn’t notice I had knocked the almost full bottle of whisky over on the carpet,’ he added pointedly, brows raised.

  Now that she looked at him more closely he did look a lot better today, the lines of strain mostly gone from beside his eyes and mouth, slightly more relaxed in his manner too.

  His hair was freshly washed and gleaming, very dark, his eyes almost luminously beautiful against his tanned skin, the firm power of his body obvious in the black jeans and black sweat-shirt he wore, the sleeves of the latter pushed up to his elbows, revealing his muscled forearms. He was much more alert today too, obviously no longer suffering from jet lag, which made him even more potentially dangerous!

  ‘I see.’ Fin’s attention returned earnestly to the carpet, her tongue between her teeth as she concentrated on the task in hand, finally looking up uncertainly as she sensed he was watching her with narrowed eyes. ‘What is it?’ She frowned, self-consciously putting a hand up to her face; maybe she had inadvertently put a dirty mark on it, or there was a cobweb in her hair—she didn’t think Gail had cleaned under this bed since the day she had first moved in two years ago!

  He shrugged. ‘I was expecting you at least to ask which part of America I had just flown in from!’

  The less she knew about this man, or where he had been, the better! ‘I was “respecting your privacy”,’ she reminded, brows raised pointedly.

  He grinned in acknowledgement of the taunt—and it completely transformed his face! He looked almost boyish, his eyes warm, his teeth white and even against his tanned skin, two endearing dimples in his cheeks.

  ‘Touché, Fin.’ He gave an inclination of his head, sitting forward in the bedroom chair now, the lean strength of his hands resting on top of his denim-clad knees. ‘Is it Mrs McKenzie or Miss?’ he asked softly, his gaze suddenly intent on her flushed face.

  Fin sat back warily on her heels, eyeing him uncertainly. Until nine years ago her name hadn’t been McKenzie at all, but Halliwell; although she didn’t think that was what he was asking! ‘I’m not wearing a ring,’ she dismissed, holding up her bare left hand as proof that she wasn’t even engaged.

  Jake shook his head. ‘That doesn’t seem to mean a thing any more. My own wife didn’t—’ He broke off abruptly, frowning darkly, his expression suddenly savage. ‘What the hell—?’ He stood up agitatedly, the relaxed mood of a few seconds ago completely gone now as he crossed the room to reach down to clasp Fin by the arms and pull her effortlessly to her feet in front of him.

  Even as Fin looked up at him apprehensively his head was lowering to hers and his mouth ground down on her lips with fierce demand.

  She was too stunned by the suddenness of it all to do more than stand immobile within the confines of his tight embrace, his arms like steel bands as he bent her body into the hardness of his, every muscle and sinew outlined against her softness.

  By the time she had recovered from the shock enough to make any show of protest at his rough behaviour, Jake had eased the pressure of his mouth against hers, his lips now searching, exploring, the tip of his tongue probing over the edge of her teeth, all the more erotic because it only promised the deeper thrusting movement but didn’t give it.

  The movement of Fin’s hands on to his shoulders changed from one of protest to one of acquiescence as her hands moved up into the thickness of the hair at his nape, entangling in the thick c
urling waves as she pulled him down to her.

  Their mouths moved searchingly together now, tasting, probing, tongues licking, shivers of delight running the length of Fin’s spine as Jake’s hands moved restlessly up and down her back before settling possessively on her hips and pressing her into the hard throb of his body.

  Fin’s senses were going wild. She hadn’t been expecting this from this man, for him to kiss her in this way, hadn’t wanted him to—at least, she hadn’t known she wanted him to. But she was certainly responding to him, burning sensations leaping through her body at the touch of his lips and hands, a hot, melting ache between her thighs as his body moved against hers.

  But she could feel the need in Jake for more than just this, much more, and even in her own arousal she knew it was impossible, impossible because of who he was!

  ‘We can’t!’ She pulled back protestingly, her eyes dark with passion, her lips slightly swollen from his kisses, a languid fluidity to her body that gave lie to her protest.

  A lie it was impossible for him not to be fully aware of!

  Jake shook his head. ‘Fin, you—What the hell …?’ He looked down at her with puzzled eyes as he pulled the book from the back pocket of her denims that had stopped him cupping her into him, his face darkening ominously as he looked down at the script for Private Lives.

  It had become such second nature to Fin over the last month to carry the script around in her pocket, so that she could sit and study her lines during any spare moment that she had, that she didn’t even know she was doing it any more, just picked it up every morning from beside her bed and put it in her pocket.

  It was obvious from Jake’s expression, from the way he held the script as if it might burn him, his breath sharply indrawn as he flicked through the pages and saw the part of Sibyl highlighted in pink, that he was deeply disturbed by its presence anywhere near her—or him!

  He looked down at her with eyes gone suddenly icy, all hot desire wiped away in the matter of seconds it took him to recognise exactly what it was he held in his hand. ‘Why do you have this?’ he rasped coldly, his gaze accusing.

  Fin swallowed hard, moistening lips that suddenly felt dry with the tip of her tongue. ‘Our local am-dram society is putting that play on at the end of the month—’

  ‘And you are playing the part of Sibyl,’ he cut in disgustedly. ‘An actress!’ he accused scathingly. ‘My God, a damned actress!’ He looked at her now as if the very sight of her made him feel ill, almost throwing the script back at her.

  She wasn’t quick enough to catch it, fumbling as she tried to do so, watching in horror as it only narrowly missed the bucket of water she had been using to clean the carpet.

  She looked back at Jake, shivering as she saw the cold rejection in eyes filled with contempt. ‘Jake, will you just let me—?’

  ‘Get out of my way!’ He brushed roughly past her on the way to the bedroom door. ‘And make sure you’re gone before I get back!’ He slammed out of the room, and then seconds later out of the cottage too, and she heard the sound of the garage door opening, and then a car engine roaring into life before being driven away at speed.

  Fin stood alone in the bedroom, her arms wrapped protectively about her body as she began to shiver on this warm June morning …

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘POSITIVE, Fin. Positive, positive, positive!’ Her mother almost leapt up and down on her chair when she told her the news as they sat across from each other in the restaurant.

  Fin had guessed what the result of the test had been as soon as she had seen the barely suppressed excitement on her mother’s face when she entered the restaurant minutes ago and saw her already seated at the table! Much as her mother had tried to suspend the moment, teasing Fin a little when they greeted each other, it had been virtually impossible for her to do so any longer, the announcement bursting out of her almost as soon as Fin had sat down.

  Fin’s own pleasure was tempered by a slight worry. ‘And why did Dr Ambrose want to see you?’ she frowned.

  ‘Oh, it was as I told you,’ her mother dismissed easily. ‘I’m a little old to be pregnant again. There will be tests and things, but I expected that—it’s normal procedure with older prospective mothers. Yes, I know I sound as if I’m quoting from a textbook,’ she looked a little sheepish. ‘But that’s probably because I am! As soon as I even suspected I might be pregnant I read all the information I could on older mothers. Dr Ambrose was quite impressed with my knowledge,’ she announced with satisfaction. ‘So much so that he’s warned me against even thinking about a home delivery—he’s convinced I’ll try to do everything myself from now on!’

  Fin moved to clasp her mother’s hand now that concern was out of the way, almost as excited at the prospect of the baby as her mother was now. ‘When?’

  ‘According to the dates I was able to give him, Dr Ambrose thinks the baby should be due about—’

  ‘Oh, I didn’t mean when is the baby due,’ Fin cut in teasingly. ‘I wanted to know when you and David indulged in this passionate encounter that has resulted in my little brother or sister!’ God, how strange that sounded. At twenty-one, probably twenty-two by the time the baby was actually born, it was going to seem a little odd to suddenly have a sibling.

  Her mother chuckled softly. ‘That could be a little difficult to say; there have been so many occasions—’

  ‘I was only joking!’ she interrupted hastily. She knew her mother and David did have a very loving relationship, but, like most children, no matter what age they were, she found it awkward to think of her parents making love together. Although the proof that Jenny and David did exactly that was going to be all too evident very soon, with her mother’s being so naturally slender. ‘David is going to be thrilled.’ She felt emotionally overwhelmed for both of them, knowing by how wonderful David had always been with her, what a wonderful father he was going to make to the baby.

  ‘Yes,’ her mother agreed dreamily. ‘I can hardly wait to tell him.’

  By the time her mother did tell David the news Fin was well into that night’s rehearsal. And without the firm guidance of a director it was a shambles, to say the least.

  Delia was acting as prompt during this production as she had through most of the others the society had put on over the years; no one would even have dared to try and usurp this niche she had made for herself! But in Gerald’s defection she had decided she should be the one to take over as acting director until a replacement could be found. Her autocratic manner and total insensitivity to the amateur artistic temperament had Annie Grey, the woman playing the part of Amanda, ready to throw in her script by the time Delia allowed them a break part-way through the evening!

  ‘Bossy old cat!’ Annie glared at the older woman across the village hall they rented for their rehearsals, lighting up a cigarette with agitated movements. ‘Considering she doesn’t even attempt to act herself, she’s very eager to tell everyone else how they should do it!’ she added furiously.

  Delia’s method of direction, mainly head-on conflict with the cast, did leave a lot to be desired, Fin admitted. But the truth of the matter was that they had all been pretty dreadful tonight, fluffing lines, if not actually forgetting them altogether.

  And Fin knew that she was probably more guilty of the latter tonight than any of them; her thoughts were simply in too much turmoil for her to be able to concentrate on the play at all—so much for ‘the play must go on’!

  She was pleased for her mother and David, couldn’t have been happier about their prospective parenthood, but at the same time she was very much aware of the complication of Jacob Dalton—Oh, God, even thinking of him by that name could be dangerous! She could, however remote the possibility, inadvertently say it in front of her mother. Jake Danvers was a definite complication.

  Not least because of her own reaction to him …

  She had been trying so desperately all day to put the memory of the kisses they had shared from her mind; and failing miserably!
/>
  She had never responded to Derek’s kisses in that way, had never responded to any man’s kisses in that way before. She had wanted Jake Danvers to make love to her earlier, hadn’t cared who he was at the time! But what did that make of her feelings towards Derek?

  She had to stay away from Jake Danvers in future, had to hope that at this very minute he was packing his bags ready to leave. For her mother’s sake she truly wished that; for herself she hoped for something completely different! Which was totally disloyal to Derek. They had been seeing each other for almost six months now, and, although she hadn’t initiated Jake Danvers’s kisses, at the back of her mind she still knew she should have put a stop to them much sooner than she had. If she cared for Derek at all … Which, of course, she did. Didn’t she …?

  When she got out of the rehearsal at only ten o’clock, Delia finally having called a halt to the rehearsal when it had become obvious that nothing was going to go right that night, Fin immediately telephoned Derek, needing the reassurance of spending time with him, hoping they could have that drink together she hadn’t been able to make last night.

  She hadn’t seen him since yesterday lunchtime, having telephoned him this morning and explained about meeting her mother for lunch today, a fact he had accepted with good grace, considering how irritated he had been with her the evening before.

  But there was no answer at his flat now, she realised disappointedly after letting the telephone ring a dozen times. It wasn’t one of his usual nights for going out, but she couldn’t exactly blame him for having done so; it couldn’t be much fun sitting at home on his own.

  But it was still only ten past ten when she got out of the telephone box, far too early for her mother and David to have returned home yet, especially now, when they had something so momentous to celebrate. And, after the awful evening she had already had, Fin didn’t relish returning home to an empty house either. She should have joined the rest of the cast when they had decided to go to the local pub and drown their sorrows. But it was really too late to turn around and go back there now. Besides, she didn’t think she was up to returning the banter, good-natured as it might be, about Derek’s unavailability. She had tried to make light-hearted excuses for him, but Derek’s disapproval of the society was felt even if he hadn’t come right out and said it to their faces, and so he had done little to endear himself to its members. Not that that particularly bothered him—in fact, he was rather pleased about it—but it could make things a little awkward for Fin. Like now!