Rebecca Winters - Cherish Collection January 2014 (Books 1-12)

* * *

Jackson spent the next couple of hours quietly, so as not to disturb Freya. There was research that needed to be done for his next documentary, but somehow it was hard to imagine himself continuing to work with Dan. Professionally they had both benefited from working together, which made their relationship cordial without being an outright friendship.

He considered calling his father but decided against it. After what he’d learned this afternoon he was afraid he might speak his mind too bluntly. He had things to say to Amos about his behaviour, but he’d rather say them face to face.

The old man’s determination to make Freya his daughter-in-law had been a source of comedy and irritation in equal measure to his five sons. Their amusement had been good-natured, helped by the fact that Freya was no keener on the idea than they were.

If anything it had seemed to put the brothers and Freya off each other. There was no denying that Jackson found her a nice, attractive girl, but he’d never really thought of Freya that way, and nor had his brothers. She’d been Amos’s ‘tool’—an instrument for his bullying. He briefly wondered whether Freya had ever fancied any of them.

No way. Unless—

A faint memory came back to him: the evening in the Chinese restaurant. They had laughed and exchanged significant glances as couples did at the start, when their attraction was in the flickering, questioning stage. But the pressure from Amos had begun soon afterwards and he’d backed off, sensing with relief that Freya was doing the same. After that each had known the other was out of bounds.

But if Amos’s clumsiness hadn’t come between them what would have happened? Until now he’d never really wondered.

Quietly he went to the bedroom door and opened it just a crack. From inside he could hear the sound of soft breathing. He opened it a little further, enough to catch a faint glimpse of her lying on the bed.

Freya wasn’t the only woman who’d slept in that bed. It was large enough for two people, and he used it for what he thought of as ‘entertaining’. Many women had lain there, skimpily dressed or undressed. They’d looked at him through half-closed eyes, pretending to sleep while actually studying him, planning their next move.

But Freya’s form was totally concealed by his pyjamas. Her eyes were closed and the faint sounds she made told him that she was sunk in the sleep of exhaustion. She looked like a vulnerable child. He was heart-stricken. And he was floundering, baffled about how to cope. It was a new experience—one that alarmed him.

Quietly he closed the door and went to switch on the television. Almost at once he heard the words ‘Dan Connor’.

The screen was focussed on a film première. There were the stars, walking along the red carpet, and there was a luscious young female clutching the arm of her escort. Dan Connor.

‘There’s someone we didn’t expect to see,’ declared the presenter. ‘Dan Connor, television bigshot. He should have got married today, but—hey, Dan, what happened?’

‘Life happened,’ Dan declared, grinning in a way that made Jackson want to commit murder. ‘Apart from that—no comment.’ He leered at the girl on his arm. ‘Shall we go in?’

Jackson clenched his hands, silently calling Dan every name he could think of. He moved quickly to turn the set off, but it was too late. A faint sound made him look to see Freya standing in the doorway.

‘So that’s who she is,’ Freya said quietly.

‘No. Freya, you’re wrong. I’ll swear he’s not in love with her. He must have just grabbed the first girl he met so that he could get his face onto the news. That’s a PR stunt you’re witnessing. You’ve had a lucky escape.’

She smiled at him, calm and seemingly untroubled.

‘You may be right. He replaced me easily, didn’t he? At any rate it’s all over now. As far as I’m concerned Dan never existed. Goodnight.’

She retreated into the bedroom, leaving Jackson wishing he could believe that she was really recovering so easily. But his heart told him she was only putting on a brave face.

Before going to bed he listened outside her door and heard something that made him clench his hands in agony. From inside came the sound of gasping sobs, telling all too clearly of the grief Freya could only release when she was alone.

Unable to endure it, he opened the door, ready to go in, take her in his arms and comfort her. But wisdom held him back. She wouldn’t be glad of his comfort. She would hate it, wanting no curious eyes.

He backed out and closed the door, knowing that he wasn’t wanted.

* * *

Freya awoke early the next morning. Briefly she wondered where she was, then remembered and groaned. Creeping out of the room, she searched for Jackson on the sofa, but it was empty except for a scrap of paper that read, I’ll be back soon. Don’t go away.

She thought of the hotel, where the family was staying, and knew she should return to them, but the thought made her shudder.

If only Jackson were here. She’d always considered herself a strong person, but suddenly it seemed terrible to be alone.

‘That’s his fault for supporting me so well,’ she muttered wryly. ‘Now I can’t cope without him. All his fault. Oh, where is he?’

It was an hour before he returned and it seemed like for ever.

‘I’ve been to the hotel,’ he said, dumping a large suitcase on the table. ‘I took the wedding dress with me and your mother’s going to pack it away for you. She gave me some clothes to bring you.’

Her wedding dress had been hanging up in the bedroom, which meant he must have crept in and removed it while she was asleep. Then her attention was taken by the clothes she found in the case.

‘Why did you bring this?’ she asked, lifting a glittering cocktail dress.

‘You can wear it tonight, when we go out.’

‘Are we going out?’

‘Yes. I’ll take you back to your hotel at the end of the evening, but before that we need to give Dan a taste of his own medicine. He flaunted himself before the cameras, so you have to do the same. Then everyone will know you don’t give a stuff about him.’

‘Don’t I?’

‘No, you don’t. You mustn’t. I know what I’m doing, Freya. Trust me.’

‘I do,’ she said.

‘But you think I’m giving you orders again, don’t you? Laying down the law, acting like my father?’

‘No, he never takes so much trouble about people’s feelings,’ she said. ‘I don’t mind taking a few orders from you.’

‘What was that? Did I hear you right? My bolshie Freya being meek and mild? I don’t believe it.’

‘I can do meek and mild if there’s a good reason.’ She managed a smile. ‘I can even say, Yes, sir. No, sir. Three bags full, sir.’

‘This I have to see,’ he said dramatically. ‘It’ll be a whole new experience.’ Then abruptly he dropped the humorous manner. ‘Don’t worry. I just mean to look after you.’ He took her face between his hands. ‘That’s all that matters now. Please believe me.’

‘I do,’ she said. ‘It’s strange how content I feel to leave everything in your hands. I didn’t know it before, but there’s nobody I trust like you.’

To her surprise Jackson looked uneasy, but she thought she understood. He was more used to her sparring with him than trusting him. But now those days seemed a long way off.

CHAPTER THREE

NOW FREYA REALLY discovered Jackson’s flair for taking charge. In the suitcase she found items of make-up and for hair care, evidently packed by her mother.

‘Thank goodness,’ she said. ‘At least I can look my best tonight.’

But he shook his head.

‘Tonight you’re a star,’ he said, ‘and a star doesn’t do those jobs herself. She employs a professional.’