Penny Jordan - Taken Over

‘Ready?’

She nodded and smiled, following Peter outside.

‘My parents went on ahead to the restaurant,’ he told her with a smile. ‘My car’s outside.’

Peter’s parents. Cassie’s heart sank. She wasn’t too keen on her in-laws-to-be, finding Peter’s father brash and overbearing, and his mother another potential Aunt Renee. She knew that Isabel Williams was disappointed in her only son’s choice of wife; and she also sensed that even though Ralph Williams was pleased by the match, he was contemptuous of her as a woman. Sometimes Cassie felt that she wanted to scream that it wasn’t her fault that she was plain; that she still had feelings and could still be hurt, but she squashed the impulse. As she followed Peter into his car she found herself stifling the reckless desire to turn to him and demand that he kissed her, really kissed her. What on earth was the matter with her? She shivered despite the warmth of the car and Peter was instantly concerned.

‘It’s time I got a new car,’ he told her, frowning. ‘This one’s had it, but father replaced his Rolls earlier this year. Perhaps you could buy me a new car as a wedding present?’

Cassie knew that he was only teasing but somehow the words grated. She was getting oversensitive, she told herself. She had entered this engagement willingly enough; she had known why Peter had proposed; she couldn’t claim that she loved him any more than he loved her, so why this feeling of distaste; this desire to open the car door and run?

Bridal nerves? She smiled derisively. Hadn’t her father brought her up to face the truth about herself, no matter how painful? She was a plain, clever woman, whose fiancé was marrying her because of her cleverness rather than her beauty. Was that really any worse than being married for beauty? Beauty faded, ability lasted … so who really was the loser; the beauty or the blue-stocking?

Sighing, Cassie realised that they had reached the restaurant. Peter looked very attractive in his dinner suit, his fair hair gleaming under the lights in the foyer. It wasn’t his fault that despite his boyish good looks there was a weak, almost petulant droop to his mouth. He had been spoiled by his mother, Cassie knew; and she also suspected that Isabel Williams fully intended to carry on that spoiling after their marriage.

The restaurant was a popular one and full. They were shown to their table where Peter’s parents were waiting for them. Isabel Williams made a big show of kissing Cassie enthusiastically, but Cassie could see the rejection in her eyes, the smug female satisfaction in the younger woman’s plainness, and as she studied her mother-in-law-to-be’s immaculate make-up and expensive silk dress Cassie was acutely conscious of her own plain appearance.

Once their meal was ordered Isabel started to discuss plans for the wedding.

‘Talk to Cassie about that some other time,’ Ralph Williams ordered his wife. ‘Cassie, I want to set up a meeting between our two accountants …’ He went on talking and Cassie was suddenly and acutely conscious of being studied by someone outside their table.

So intense was the sensation of being watched that her skin prickled underneath it. She itched to turn round but refused to give in to the impulse, forcing herself to listen to Peter’s father. He was asking her about the work she had in progress, enquiring if she was working on anything new. She was just about to demur, hating talking about what she was doing until it was clear in her own mind, when she felt an overwhelming urge to turn round seize her. She had given in to it almost before she was aware of doing so, her breath catching in her throat as her glance clashed with the navy-blue stare of Joel Howard. He was seated two tables away, just simply watching her, oblivious to the chatter of his blonde companion. The look in his eyes was so savagely angry that Cassie rocked with the force of it. It was like shouting defiance at thunder and lighting, and her mind reeled away from the shattering impact of his anger. She had known he was angry at her refusal to talk to him, but the intensity of that rage was something she had not anticipated. It was several seconds before she could draw her glance away and in that time Peter became conscious of her lack of attention.

‘Joel Howard,’ he exclaimed in disgust, ‘what on earth is he doing here?’

His father spun round, frowning angrily at the other table. ‘He wants Cassietronics.’ He said it loudly enough for the other man to hear, and Cassie caught the flash of fury darken the navy-blue eyes to black. Fear, and something else coursed through her body, making her shake and cling to the safe security of Peter’s fingers. The stone in her engagement ring glittered and she could almost feel the instant Joel Howard’s attention became fixed on it, the expression on his face changing, hardening first to rage and then to contemptuous derision.

Quite distinctly above the murmur of conversation from the other tables Cassie heard his companion complaining, ‘Darling, what’s wrong? You look dreadfully angry.’

She could just hear Joel’s response, and as the cruelty of it drove what colour there was from her face, she knew that it had been pitched deliberately for her to hear it.

‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he told the blonde, ‘I was just thinking that some men would sell their very souls, not to mention their lives, to get what they want.’

The blonde pouted, and Cassie couldn’t drag her eyes away even though she desperately wanted to. ‘Would you?’ she asked him archly. Across the intervening tables, his eyes locked on Cassie’s, contempt and derision mingling.

‘Not in this particular case,’ he drawled, and Cassie knew the words were meant for her. ‘There are some prices too high for any man to pay.’ His gaze left her face to slide contemptuously over her body and where she had been pale Cassie was now hot, with humiliation and rage; so bitter and angry that she was shaking with it. At her side Ralph Williams said something, and remembering his earlier question she replied brightly and a little too loudly.

‘As a matter of fact I am working on something new—it’s going to be a wedding present for Peter.’ She flashed a bright and totally meaningless smile at her fiancé, barely aware of what she was saying as she told him, ‘If it’s anywhere near as successful as my last one darling, it will buy you a whole fleet of new cars—and the garages to go with them.’

Ordinarily, Cassie would have been appalled by her behaviour, shrinking away from the crassness of it, but right now, all she cared about was wiping the derisive glitter from Joel Howard’s eyes; she wanted to see him humiliated as he had just humiliated her. Without saying the words he had told her plainly that in his eyes she had bought herself a husband; and that no woman would ever be allowed to buy him.

The rest of the meal passed in a daze. She drank champagne, she knew that, and she listened to toasts on their engagement. Later she and Peter danced, but although he held her close to his body, murmuring his delight at her earlier words, excitement making his body tense against hers, in reality she was far away from him, concentrating on the sight of Joel Howard, dancing with his blonde companion. Her head barely reached his shoulder and their bodies swayed together as intimately as though they had been making love … As they would make love later on. Cassie’s head swam with the intensity of her thoughts: she shivered in Peter’s arms, shaking with revulsion at the direction of her thoughts. They were an invasion of the other couple’s privacy; almost voyeuristic in their intensity and they shamed her to her soul. What was it about Joel Howard that prompted such a reaction from her; that drove her beyond the boundaries of logic and reason into a realm where emotions alone held sway?