After the Loving Page 7

‘It wasn’t Raff’s fault,’ she cut in quickly. ‘I’m afraid I was in charge of that, and I—goofed.’

  ‘And from the look of you he’s obviously been making your life hell because of it,’ he scowled, scouring the room for the other man. ‘How could he do this to you? He——’

  ‘Court, please!’ She put a hand of entreaty on his muscle-tensed arm, conscious that they were attracting considerable attention as they stood in the middle of the ballroom while the other couples danced around them. ‘Let’s go somewhere and talk,’ she encouraged. ‘I——’

  ‘Stuart has been longing to dance with you, Bryna.’ A harsh-faced Raff appeared at her side, his assistant firmly in tow. ‘You seem to have concluded your dance with my wife, Court,’ he told the other man firmly.

  Court looked set to argue that point, but Bryna evaded the scene that would ensue if he did by moving lightly into Stuart Hillier’s arms.

  As she moved instinctively to the music she was barely conscious of her dancing partner as she watched Raff and Court leave the dance-floor to go into a room together off the main area where all the guests were gathered.

  ‘Your parents seem to be having a good time.’ Stuart Hillier’s abrupt statement brought her attention back to him, although she couldn’t stop feeling anxious about what was transpiring between the two friends behind that closed door.

  She glanced across the room to where her mother and father were once again dancing together, returning to the table they shared with Raff’s more elderly parents during the short resting periods between dancing. They had always enjoyed dancing together, and as her father had laughingly teased, what better occasion to dance than at their only child’s wedding?

  Having met Raff, and liked him, they were pleased she had decided to marry him, and she hadn’t had the heart to tell them how much this marriage distressed her. They only wanted her to be happy, and they believed Raff could make her that; they could have no idea of the bargain she had made with her new husband.

  ‘Yes,’ she turned back to Stuart Hillier. ‘I hope you’re enjoying yourself too.’ She looked at him enquiringly.

  ‘Of course,’ he returned stiltedly.

  His manner was unfriendly to say the least, and after months of finding him overly familiar, if anything, she couldn’t help wondering if he had been warned off by Raff’s attitude towards Court a few minutes ago. She hoped so.

  She didn’t know why she disliked this man, he was always polite, sometimes too much so, and yet for some reason she felt uneasy in his presence. He was reasonably tall, although not as tall as either Raff or Court, with dark hair and deep brown eyes that should have been warm but somehow weren’t. He made Bryna feel uncomfortable every time she was with him.

  ‘Good,’ she gave him a bright smile as the music ended, turning to walk away, only to have him clasp her arm. ‘Yes?’ she turned to him enquiringly.

  ‘Raff asked me to—look after you, until he returns,’ Stuart told her challengingly.

  ‘Indeed?’ She gave him a look of haughty disdain. ‘I don’t believe I need “looking after” at my own wedding, thank you!’

  ‘Nevertheless——’

  ‘Mr Hillier,’ she cut in icily, ‘at this moment I intend talking to one of my cousins, and I certainly don’t need your company to do that!’

  How dared Raff tell his assistant to watch over her as if she were a child who could step out of line and embarrass him if left alone! He had never acted in that autocratic way with her before, never given the impression she wasn’t to be trusted if left on her own. Maybe he expected her to get up on a table and announce to all their guests that they were to be parents in just over six months’ time! That was going to be obvious soon enough anyway, and she certainly wouldn’t embarrass her parents by even thinking about doing such a thing!

  She was chatting absently with her cousin and her fiancé when she saw Court leave the room he and Raff had entered together, quickly excusing herself to cross the room towards him, a perplexed frown marring her brow as he turned to leave the reception room without a second glance, his expression thunderous.

  Bryna hurried after him. ‘Court——’

  ‘Don’t!’

  The pain of having her wrist cruelly grasped was as nothing to the ache in her chest as she looked up into Raff’s coldly furious face. He actually looked as if he hated her in that moment! He had never seemed so much a stranger.

  She wrenched her gaze away from his cold one, looking towards the door. ‘But Court——’

  ‘Had to leave unexpectedly,’ Raff bit out in harsh reply.

  Bryna turned back to him slowly, frowning her bewilderment. ‘You asked your best friend to leave our wedding,’ she said disbelievingly.

  ‘No,’ Raff grated softly. ‘He chose to leave.’

  Bryna faced him accusingly. ‘Because you made him,’ she realised disgustedly. ‘What on earth do you think you’re doing——’

  ‘I think I’m trying to avoid causing a scene, but if you’re intent on one——!’ He nodded in the direction of the room he and Court had so recently vacated. ‘Let’s go in there,’ he instructed between gritted teeth.

  Bryna went willingly. She had been woken by her mother at seven o’clock this morning, been hustled and bustled about all morning dealing with all the last-minute details, been married to a man who was now a stranger to her, and for the last four hours she had tried to put a happy face on that marriage in front of their families and friends. It felt good to at last have a respite from that, although she wished it could have been in happier circumstances.

  The room turned out to be a small lounge, even a small fire burned in the grate; the room was obviously provided for people who found the festivity in the ballroom a bit much. Bryna wished she had known about it earlier; four hours earlier!

  She turned to Raff. ‘Why are you being so arrogantly unreasonable?’ she demanded.

  He looked at her coldly. ‘I consider my behaviour very reasonable,’ he snapped. ‘You’re the one who insisted on making an exhibition of yourself!’

  Her cheeks coloured at the accusation. ‘I was only dancing with Court——’

  ‘Forgive me, but when I interrupted you certainly weren’t dancing,’ rasped Raff, thrusting his long capable hands into his trouser pockets. ‘The two of you were drawing attention to yourselves by that mere fact alone, and minutes earlier dozens of our guests witnessed the way he caressed your hair——’

  ‘He wasn’t caressing my hair,’ she defended heatedly. ‘He was trying to take off my veil!’

  Grey eyes narrowed. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because he’s kind.’ Tears glistened in her violet-coloured eyes. ‘Because the veil was making by head ache!’

  ‘If it makes your head ache why didn’t you just remove it yourself?’ he challenged.

  Because she had known it would displease him! My God, she thought, in the space of just two weeks she had become one of those women she despised, in awe of her husband instead of the independent woman she had always been, fearing his disapproval to the slightest move she made.

  She was a successful businesswoman, for goodness’ sake, with a mind and will of her own, not some simpering simpleton afraid of her own shadow. Consideration for the feelings of others was one thing, but in Raff’s case she had taken it too far!

  ‘I thought I was supposed to keep up appearances,’ she told him caustically, deftly removing the pins from her hair, at once feeling the pressure ease. ‘But I think four hours is enough for any bride!’ She put the tiara and veil down on a small table in front of her, shaking her hair just to feel its freedom. ‘Now I intend enjoying what’s left of my wedding reception, you can act as watchdog if you want to!’ She turned to leave.

  ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ he grated harshly, his mouth tight.

  Bryna spun around. ‘Do you think I’m a fool, Raff?’ she scorned. ‘I know you’ve been watching my every move since I agreed to marry you. Why, I have no idea, but I think even y
ou can trust I wouldn’t do anything stupid at my own wedding!’

  His mouth was taut and unremorseful. ‘You’ve already caused quite a lot of talk by your behaviour earlier with Court——’

  ‘What behaviour?’ she demanded impatiently. ‘I only danced with him!’

  ‘And told him about the baby,’ Raff bit out accusingly.

  ‘He’s your best friend, I would have thought you would have already told him!’ she retaliated, her eyes blazing deeply purple.

  ‘Why should I have done?’ he challenged.

  She frowned. ‘Because—well, because——’

  ‘It’s none of his damned business,’ Raff told her coldly.

  Bryna gave a weary sigh, her head starting to pound again. ‘Look, I don’t want anything I’ve done to be the cause of friction between you and Court——’

  ‘Don’t you?’ he scorned. ‘I thought all women liked men to fight over them.’

  Whatever Court had had to say to Raff about her pregnancy, it had obviously caused a rift between the two men. ‘You and Court have no reason to argue because of me,’ she dismissed impatiently. ‘It’s ridiculous, and I don’t like it——’

  ‘That’s just too bad,’ her husband snapped. ‘Because I have a feeling it’s something you’re going to have to get used to!’

  ‘But why?’ Bryna reasoned intensely. ‘Court is just upset with you at the moment for not confiding in him about the baby. He’ll come around——’

  ‘But I won’t,’ Raff warned softly. ‘Now we’ll rejoin our guests together,’ he instructed coldly. ‘I think it’s time they started to leave anyway; you need to get some rest.’

  She was surprised he had noticed how fatigued she was, only having seemed concerned with keeping up appearances until now. But maybe that was it, a new bride should be glowing with vitality and love for her husband, not just look exhausted!

  Luckily some of the guests had decided it was time for them to depart; if they hadn’t she felt sure Raff would have somehow persuaded them it was time to go—politely, of course!

  Ordinarily, as the bride and groom, they could have escaped hours ago, but as it was Christmas the next day they had decided not to go away on a honeymoon but to spend the holiday period at the house with their families. As she should have been spending Christmas with her parents Raff had invited them to spend Christmas with them instead, and Raff’s parents would be joining them all for the day too. As honeymoons went it had to be one of the strangest! Not that she had any wish to be alone anywhere with Raff in the stange mood he had been in since she first agreed to marry him.

  It was gone midnight by the time the last of the guests left, Paul taking his girl-friend home before returning to the house later, Kate being driven home by Roger Delaney, a rather pleasant young man she was at college with whom she had decided to invite at the last minute. Raff’s parents had chosen to stay at their home in London and drive down to join them for the festivities tomorrow, so that only left Raff, Bryna, and her parents to drive home together.

  She awoke as Raff carried her up the long staircase to her room; she must have fallen asleep almost as soon as she got in the car, because she certainly remembered nothing of the journey.

  Raff glanced down at her as he sensed she was awake. ‘Your parents said to say goodnight,’ he told her.

  Flatly, uncompromisingly, totally unapproachable. ‘You can put me down now.’ She twisted in his arms.

  His arms tensed as his grip tightened. ‘We’re almost there now,’ he dismissed abruptly.

  Despite the fact that they had been married today the gap between them was widening by the minute, and if they were to be even tolerably happy in this marriage it couldn’t be allowed to continue. ‘Raff, I didn’t realise you hadn’t told Court about the baby,’ she explained regretfully. ‘And when I did——’

  ‘You told him anyway.’ He pushed open the bedroom door with his foot.

  ‘He’s your best friend——’

  ‘And the baby you’re carrying is ours, and anything to do with it, anything at all, should be decided by us jointly!’

  ‘But——This is your bedroom,’ she realised in alarm; the austere green and cream décor was nothing at all like the warm peach of her own bedroom further down the hallway. She knew exactly what her bedroom should look like, having moved all her things into it yesterday. She was also familiar with Raff’s bedroom through the bathroom that connected their two rooms, the housekeeper having given her a detailed tour of the house after she had unpacked. And the room he had brought her to was definitely his!

  Raff slowly lowered her to the floor, their bodies moving against each other before Bryna moved abruptly away.

  ‘I’m well aware of whose room this is.’ He pulled his tie undone, leaving it dangling about his throat as he unbuttoned the stiff collar of his white shirt. ‘It’s been a long day, Bryna,’ he said wearily. ‘Use the bathroom and let’s get to bed.’ He sat down on the side of the bed to take off his shoes.

  The action drew her attention to the king-size bed he had only ever previously occupied alone. None of his women had ever stayed the night in his home. Raff refused to expose his children to that; all their previous nights together had been spent at her apartment.

  Bryna moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘You said we would have separate rooms——’

  ‘We have separate rooms.’ He stood up forcefully to continue undressing.

  ‘But——’

  ‘Bryna, we have guests in the house,’ he bit out tautly. ‘My son and daughter too. What do you think they’ll make of our sleeping apart on our supposed honeymoon?’

  She blinked. ‘I wouldn’t have thought you cared what other people thought.’ He never had in the past!

  His eyes glittered angrily. ‘Your parents believe you wanted this marriage, and when they leave in three days’ time I don’t want anything we’ve said or done to have disturbed their peace of mind. My children’s feelings are also important to me, but they will also be gone in three days. And until they are we will share this room and this bed if nothing else, at least give an outward impression of normality. If any of them find out the truth later on we can tell them that it’s more comfortable for you, and the baby, if you sleep alone,’ he added grimly.

  Bryna had also dreaded the idea of her parents realising her marriage to Raff had been a matter of compulsion rather than choice. But she now understood Raff’s sudden change of mind about Kate moving into Brenda’s flat with her; if his daughter stayed here she would realise how estranged her father and Bryna really were.

  ‘Raff, don’t make a decision about Kate’s future that you’ll later regret. I’m sure we can work something out if you——’

  ‘Kate is eighteen, and it’s time she realased there’s a whole harsh world out there,’ he dismissed.

  Bryna shook her head, knowing that wasn’t the way he really felt. ‘You’ll regret it if anything happens to her.’

  His brows rose. ‘What could happen to her?’

  She looked down pointedly at her own body. ‘I was once a sophisticated innocent, remember?’ she reminded him.

  His expression darkened and he looked at her coldly. ‘Are you saying I’m forcing my daughter out of her home and risking her becoming pregnant?’ he rasped.

  ‘No, of course not! I was only——Oh! She closed her eyes as a wave of dizziness washed over her, and would have fallen if Raff’s arms hadn’t closed about her. ‘I’m sorry,’ she shook back her hair, blinking up at him dazedly.

  ‘You’re exhausted!’ His expression was grim as he sat her down on the bed, turning her slightly away from him to begin undoing the row of pearl buttons down her spine. ‘Don’t argue,’ he warned as she gave a murmur of protest. ‘I told you I wouldn’t touch you, and I won’t. This is just helping an overtired woman, who’s eleven weeks pregnant, into bed where she belongs!’

  She wanted to protest that she didn’t ‘belong’ in this particular bed, but she didn’t have the streng
th to argue, not when Raff was already slipping the gown from her shoulders. She was too tired to fight him, and sat docilely while he sponged the weariness from her body, returning again and again to the bathroom to moisten the sponge, until he was satisfied that every part of her felt refreshed. She wondered at this thoughtfulness from the man who had been so coldly aloof from her all day, but she was too weary to question it. She didn’t even object as he gently sponged the perspiration from the valley between her breasts, although she did murmur a protest as he moved towards her thighs.

  ‘All right.’ He straightened, moving to take her nightgown from the chair where he had draped it, a thoughtful maid having laid it out on the bed for her earlier, indication that the staff expected them to share this room tonight too, at least.

  Raff dropped the floaty creation of the white nightgown over her head before settling her back on the pillows and pulling the bedclothes up to under her chin as she sighed her comfort.

  Bryna had never felt so tired, and she saw Raff’s movements through a haze, her lids refusing to obey her command for them to open. But she did know that he removed his own clothes without sparing her a second glance, going through to the adjoining bathroom, the sound of the water being run telling her he intended taking the shower she had longed for.

  She fell asleep to the sound of the water falling in the shower.

  And she awoke to the caress of Raff’s hand on her body.

  At first the shought it was a dream; she was too tired to wake up for anything! But her body knew its master, and she returned to consciousness with the sure knowledge that Raff was touching her.

  She was turned on her side in the bed, but she could feel the warmth of Raff’s body inches away from her back and legs, knew he would be completely naked, that he always slept that way. And his arm rested against her hip as one of his hands trailed over her stomach, and lower.

  It was exquisite torture to let him continue, and yet it would cause her even more pain to make him stop. But finally it was the former she feared the most, deciding physical discomfort was preferable to the mental anguish if she let him continue.