Lee Wilkinson - From Mistresses To Wives?

Jessica’s thoughts hadn’t got that far ahead as yet. ‘A flat?’ she hazarded.

‘A bit less conventional than that. You might not care for it.’

‘I’m sure it will be perfect,’ she said.

She had no reason to change that opinion when she saw the Chelsea mews. It was an absolute delight, every dwelling different, plant life abounding in every corner. Zac had both floors of number eleven. A dream of a place all round, Jessica acknowledged, roaming through the imaginatively decorated and furnished rooms.

‘A designer friend’s doing,’ Zac admitted when she congratulated him on his taste. ‘I wouldn’t have known where to start.’

A woman, no doubt, she reflected. Possibly rather more than just a friend too. As a bachelor, Zac had enjoyed the freedom to spend his nights however he chose. There was every chance he was going to find the curtailment of that freedom hard to take.

‘Hungry?’ he asked.

Not for food, she could have told him. She shook her head.

‘Coffee then? Or something stronger?’

‘Coffee will be fine. Let me make it,’ she tagged on as he made a move in the direction of the kitchen.

‘I can manage,’ he said. ‘I even cook the odd meal.’

‘I’ll have to do something to earn my keep,’ she responded flippantly.

Amusement gave way to some other, less easily defined emotion. ‘You won’t have to earn anything.’

He went from the room before she could come up with a reply, leaving her to the conclusion that she’d caught him on the raw with the unthinking remark. She found the idea reassuring in the sense that it suggested a certain vulnerability on his part: a way through, if she worked at it, to the inner man she needed to find if this marriage of theirs was to stand any chance at all of succeeding.

Whatever his feelings, he had them well under control by the time he brought the coffee in. Jessica eyed him over the rim of her cup as he took a seat on the far side of the three-seater sofa, the ache inside her increasing by the moment as she viewed the strong lines of his profile, the breadth of shoulder and muscular upper arm structure emphasised by the cream silk shirt he was wearing—the firm line of his thigh beneath the fine linen trousers.

Unable to stand it any longer, she put her cup down on the table in front of them, and reached to do the same with his, moving over to put both hands about his face and draw it down to reach his mouth with hers.

The sofa was more than big enough to accommodate them, the cushions supportive, the passion all-consuming. It was some time before either of them could gather the strength to move.

‘That,’ Zac murmured at last, ‘was worth waiting for! Not that you did,’ he added with a hint of humour. ‘And there was I trying to be all considerate, thinking you’d be too tired!’

‘I’ll never be too tired for this,’ she claimed huskily.

‘Let’s hope I can live up to demands, then.’

There was something in his voice that gave her pause for a moment, but she wasn’t sure enough of herself to start probing for possible hidden meanings.

‘As if,’ she said, ‘there could ever be any doubt about that!’

‘As if,’ he echoed drily. He planted a fleeting kiss on her lips, then eased himself upright. ‘You’ll find everything you need in the en suite. I’ll take the guest room shower.’

Jessica had thought he might suggest they share a shower, the way they’d done that morning while waiting for room service, but the cabinets here weren’t really big enough, she supposed, to hold two people.

The possibility that he’d had enough of her for one day, she refused to contemplate.

If she needed reassurance on that score, it was provided back at the hotel, where they spent the night again. By morning, Jessica had reached a state not even the coming meeting with her cousin could demolish. If it wasn’t love she and Zac shared, it was a wonderful substitute!

He left her at ten. Safe in the knowledge that Leonie would be at work all day, she took a taxi to the flat in St John’s Wood, using the key and code already provided to let herself in.

Like the Majorcan apartment, the place was beautifully done out. At twenty-nine, Leonie was in a position to afford some of the best in life. Deservedly so too.

Jessica spent the afternoon on steadily increasing tenterhooks. Her cousin’s homecoming at seven was small relief.

Blonde hair swept back in a smooth French pleat from her fine-boned face, slim, elegant figure clad in a designer suit in soft grey, Leonie looked delighted to see her.

‘You should have let me know you were coming in today,’ she chided. ‘I might have been out for the evening. What time did you get here, anyway?’

‘Around lunchtime.’ Jessica hesitated, wondering whether to wait a while before breaking the news. Yet to what purpose? Now, or later, it had to be gone through.

‘I have something to tell you,’ she said. ‘It’s going to be quite a shock.’

‘Really?’ Leonie looked intrigued. ‘What is it?’

Jessica drew a deep breath. ‘I’m going to marry Zac Prescott.’

LEONIE laughed. ‘That certainly would be a shock! Do you have any other jokes stored up?’

Actions, Jessica decided, spoke louder than words. She held out her left hand, seeing astonishment leap in her cousin’s eyes.

‘I don’t believe it!’ Leonie exclaimed. ‘You and Zac ? It’s only a few days since you said you’d blown him out of the water!’

Jessica fought the temptation to blurt out the whole story. ‘I lied,’ she said, thinking that much at least was the truth. ‘I didn’t know how to tell you.’

‘Tell me what? That the two of you had fallen for each other on sight?’

‘Something like that, I suppose.’

‘Well, I’ll be dammed! Zac Prescott, of all people!’ Leonie shook her head, apparently more taken aback than upset by the news. ‘Just goes to show the age of miracles isn’t yet past!’

‘You don’t mind then?’ Jessica ventured.

‘Mind? Oh, you mean because I had him first?’ She shook her head. ‘I won’t pretend I’ll not miss our occasional encounters, but we were neither of us under any illusions. You’ve more reason to resent me, in fact.’

‘I don’t,’ Jessica assured her, not entirely certain that that was the complete truth either. ‘As Zac said, anything that happened between the two of you was before he met me.’

‘Right enough. This is certainly going to be one in the eye for Paul! Not that he obviously means a thing to you any more.’

‘No.’ Jessica could say that much with total honesty. ‘I haven’t even thought about him in days.’

‘Hardly surprising. There’s absolutely no comparison between what you had with him and what you’ll have with Zac.’

‘It isn’t about material things!’

Leonie gave a sly grin. ‘A secondary consideration, I’ll grant you, but hardly to be sniffed at.’

‘Did you never meet with Zac here in London?’ Jessica asked after a moment.

‘No. We preferred to stick to the occasional fling out there. What can’t be altered must be endured,’ Leonie added candidly. ‘You’re the one he asked to marry him. The only one, by all accounts.’

Claiming that she had no feelings whatsoever about their past relationship would not only be a waste of breath but a further bending of the truth too, Jessica admitted. Leonie was one on her own in that respect. One on her own in most respects, in fact.

Her cousin proved that by refraining from any in-depth probing over the evening, prepared, it seemed, to take the situation at face value. Asked her opinion of the island where she’d spent the past week, Jessica was glad to be able to return a totally truthful answer for once.