Distracted by her Virtue Read online

Page 7


  Jarrett had hardly slept. He’d risen early and busied himself with inconsequential activities, like browsing the Sunday newspapers, surfing the internet and drinking enough coffee to raise a person from the dead, simply to kill the time before he could drive over to High Ridge Hall and see Sophia. It was as though someone had put a spell on him. He could hardly think about anything else but her beautiful face, and the realisation that he was a different man when he was in her company—a man who was far more in touch with his feelings than he usually managed.

  The mere idea of being so vulnerable to a woman would have normally had him running for the hills. God knew he’d had a lifetime of doing just that, fooling himself that long term relationships were best avoided because he didn’t want to deal with the grief he might feel if things didn’t work out. Losing his parents in a car accident when he was young had taught him that loving someone wasn’t always enough to keep them by your side. Better to not risk being hurt, should that ever happen again. Yet what was happening to him now as far as Sophia was concerned was completely out of his control. And while it was undoubtedly frightening, it was also the most wonderful thing that he’d ever experienced.

  Now, drawing up outside the familiar manor house, he reached over to the back seat of the car to collect the enormous bunch of flowers he’d brought for Sophia. They were all hand-picked from his own well-planted gardens. He and his gardener had walked the stone paths between the colourful beds together to select and cut them. Jarrett smiled to himself, shaking his head in bemusement as the heady floral perfume drifted up to him.

  Even his gardener—the elderly but still sprightly Alfred—had winked knowingly up at him when he’d asked him to help choose some of the most beautiful blooms for a ‘friend’. As the gnarled hands had reverently cut stalks with secateurs, the gardener had said, ‘Your friend is a very lucky young lady indeed, Mr Gaskill. I hope she knows that.’

  Stepping out onto the pavement, Jarrett walked up to the rusted iron gate that was positioned between tall hedgerows scattered with pink and white blossoms. It opened directly onto the house’s path. Inside his chest, his heart was infused with optimism and hope for a good outcome to his visit—an outcome that would herald the start of what could be a genuinely meaningful relationship between him and Sophia Markham. But as he put his hand out to open the gate, up ahead the front door opened and a tall fair-haired young man stepped onto the stone porch with Sophia. His thoughts suspended in shock and surprise, Jarrett froze as he observed the man envelop the small slender brunette in a tight bear-hug and pull her head down onto his chest. He then proceeded to stroke his hand lovingly over her hair.

  A harsh breath that was akin to the aftermath of being punched exited his lungs. She’d lied to him. Above the white noise that drowned out all other sounds that was the thought that pounded Jarrett’s brain. Was she even a widow, as she’d claimed? If she was, then she obviously hadn’t wasted any time in finding herself a replacement for her husband.

  Engulfed by jealousy and rage, he felt his heart thunder hard. When he saw Sophia step back to cup the man’s face tenderly between her hands, and smile up at him as if he was infinitely dear to her, it became too much for him to linger there a second longer. His mind teeming with desperately furious thoughts about what an idiot he was to be taken in by her beautiful face and bewitching company, he turned away and strode quickly back to the car—the need to escape that hurtful, bitter scene was paramount. On the way, he deliberately let the lovely bouquet he’d brought her fall carelessly onto the ground, as though the carefully handpicked blooms were nothing but an unwanted and ugly bunch of weeds.

  ‘Why didn’t Jarrett come and teach me to play cricket today, Mummy?’ her small son asked plaintively as Sophia tucked him into bed.

  Her hand shook slightly as she smoothed it over the patterned eiderdown, thinking hard what to say. In truth, she’d begun to believe that Jarrett had reneged on his agreement to visit because he’d suddenly got cold feet. The thought was hard to bear after he’d been so kind the evening before, and as the day had worn on she hadn’t been able to help becoming close to despondent when she’d realised he wasn’t going to show.

  He could have at least dropped a note through the letterbox to tell her that something else had come up. He could even have made up some not too hurtful excuse as to why he’d changed his mind, Sophia reflected. But could she blame him? After all, what man in his right mind would seriously contemplate taking on a woman like her? A woman who wore the battle scars of her bitter experience in her eyes every time she met anyone’s glance?

  It didn’t matter that she’d resolved never to put herself in the path of such a dangerous liaison again—that she would stay alert and awake round anyone who had the slightest propensity to mistreat her. Somehow Jarrett Gaskill had got under her skin—even made her long for something she could never have.

  Her self-confidence had already been shattered by the hard and lonely years spent with Tom, and her ability to trust had been severely tested—perhaps beyond repair. It had taken a huge leap of faith on her part even to invite Jarrett into the house, let alone contemplate deepening their association. She’d become used to assuming a shield as strong as toughened steel to fend off anyone who tried to get too close or pry into her business. Protecting herself and her son from harm or hurt had taken priority over everything, and rightly so. She should definitely take it as a warning that she’d dared to relax her guard round Jarrett so soon, only to be paid back by his letting her down.

  Why had she done such a thing?

  The answer came immediately. She’d risked trusting him because hope had started to stir in her heart that he was cut from a finer cloth than her husband, and now it hurt all the more that he’d disappointed her. It was a fruitless exercise, but Sophia couldn’t help wondering why again. Was it because he’d concluded that she just wasn’t worth the risk or the potential heartache?

  ‘I don’t know why he didn’t come, my darling, I really don’t,’ she answered, tenderly stroking back her son’s corkscrew curls from his forehead. ‘Perhaps he wasn’t feeling well. Anyway, I don’t want you to worry about it, because I’m sure we’ll find out what happened very soon. In the meantime, you’ve got your stay with Uncle David and Aunt Lindsay to look forward to. You’re going to have so much fun, spending some time with your cousin Oscar, I’m sure. Now, get some sleep, my angel. You’ve had an exciting day, what with building a den in the garden and seeing your uncle again. I can see that you’re tired. I love you so much, Charlie.’ Affectionately brushing her lips against her son’s soft cheek, Sophia got up from his bedside and moved across to the door.

  ‘I love you too, Mummy … more than anybody else in the whole wide world!’

  As she quietly closed the door behind her the distressing sting of tears pressed against her eyelids like a painful burning brand.

  Jarrett had been in a foul mood all week. Each day he’d risen practically at dawn to seek refuge in work, and he lingered late in his office when he didn’t have to—just to escape the mocking reality of his empty home. However desirable the executive-style house might appear from the outside, with its panoramic windows, the Ferrari, vintage Bentley and Range Rover parked on the drive outside the garage, and its landscaped gardens encompassing almost three acres of prime countryside, there was no getting away from the fact that inside it had suddenly become too cavernous and empty for him to tolerate being there on his own. With nothing but his despairing thoughts to keep him company, it had become a prison.

  Even when his sister had rung to apologise for offending him with her remark about him wanting to get close to Sophia only so that he could buy High Ridge, he’d been too disheartened and impatient to forgive her. Beth’s speculation about the woman he desired rankled even more now that he had discovered that she did indeed have secrets that she’d taken pains to conceal from him.

  His mind couldn’t seem to dislodge the disturbing image of her tender expression when she�
�d gazed up into her lover’s eyes and gently cradled his face between her hands. Up until he’d witnessed that heart-knifing scene Jarrett couldn’t deny that he’d been longing for Sophia to gaze up at him in a similar loving way one day soon. And, even though she’d so cold-heartedly deceived him, he couldn’t totally kill that longing.

  At least choosing to work even longer hours had helped ensure he wouldn’t run into her by chance and perhaps be driven to express publicly his anger and disappointment at her deception. He imagined her soft husky tones explaining who the man was, and maybe a beseeching look in her green eyes that begged his understanding and forgiveness. How in hell was he going to deal with that?

  About to climb out of the car and step onto his drive, he cursed vehemently, tunnelling his fingers furiously through his hair. At the same time the ominous sound of rumbling thunder made him glance up at the sky, to see the darkening grey dome above him turn to a dramatic blackened violet. Barely a few seconds later heavy rain began pelting everything in sight like indiscriminate machine gun fire.

  The fresh string of curses that issued from Jarrett’s lips was even more vehement than the first. Tugging his jacket collar up towards his ears, he hurriedly exited the car and slammed the door shut. He’d be drenched long before he reached the front door. Fine! It suited his already bleak mood to be soaked to the skin and made even colder in body, mind and spirit than he was already.

  ‘Jarrett!’

  For a frozen second he thought he’d imagined Sophia’s voice calling out his name. But when he glanced over his shoulder towards the end of the drive he saw that his imagination wasn’t working overtime. Her slim, rain-coated figure was huddled on the other side of the wrought-iron gates. Her hands were jammed into her pockets and her braided hair was plastered to her head by the violent downpour. Her lovely face was so pale that the exquisite cheekbones seemed to jut through the porcelain skin.

  In spite of what she’d done to him Jarrett’s heart slammed against his ribs, and in those arresting few moments his desire for her surmounted all doubt. He took a deep breath in to steady himself.

  ‘What is it you want from me, Sophia? You’d better tell me quick, before we both drown in this monsoon!’

  Through the deluge of heavily falling rain he saw her bite her lip and lift her sodden braids away from her face. ‘Just tell me one thing. Why didn’t you show up on Sunday? Charlie was so upset. You could have at least have had the decency to let us know you weren’t coming.’

  ‘I’m sorry I let your son down. I really am. But though I fully understand why he was upset, clearly you didn’t suffer the same regret, did you?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You know damn well what I mean!’ He glared at her, clenching his fists down by his sides and shaking his head. ‘You’d better come in. This is ridiculous. We can’t talk out here’

  He pressed a button on his keypad to open the electronic gates, refusing to contemplate for a moment that she might refuse his invitation to follow him inside and talk. She owed him that much.

  Although her hair and outer clothing were clearly soaked, in no way did Sophia cut a forlorn figure. In fact, as she walked through the open gates towards him she held her head up high as if she didn’t have a damn thing to hide.

  He moved quickly towards the smart beechwood front door. Although outside the rain pounded at the building with almost uncanny force, inside the light and airy hall it was suddenly as quiet as a church. Shrugging off his jacket and hanging the soaked garment on the coat rack inside the door, where it dripped into an umbrella stand, Jarrett impatiently stretched out his hand to take Sophia’s coat. Seeing the hesitation in her glance, he bit back his impatience and trusted his expression was benign enough not to make her nervous. Even if she had lied to him, he would never descend to intimidation to vent his anger.

  When she didn’t remove her coat, he lowered his hand. ‘Wait here. I’ll go and get a towel for you to dry your hair.’

  ‘Don’t bother about that. Just answer the question I asked you outside and I won’t take up any more of your valuable time.’

  There was a hurt, resentful edge to her tone, and Jarrett wrestled with the sense of injustice it provoked inside him. It beggared belief that she was acting so aggrieved when it was her that had played him for a fool.

  ‘All right I’ll tell you why you didn’t see me. Although as a matter of fact I did call round.’ Feeling the talons of what he believed was justifiable anger dig into him at the expression of surprise on her face, he slowly crossed his arms over his chest, praying that she wouldn’t try and maintain her innocence to the point of embarrassing herself when she realised he knew the truth. ‘I was about to open the gate when I saw you step outside the house with a man,’ he said, low-voiced. ‘A tall, fair-haired chap. Is he your lover, Sophia? Or perhaps he’s the husband you told me had died?’

  ‘What?’ Her face had turned the colour of parchment. ‘You say you called and saw me come out of the house with a man?’

  ‘Yes, I did. I was about to open the gate when I saw him. Who was he? I don’t want any lies. Just tell me the truth.’

  Sophia’s limbs were almost too weak to keep her upright for another second. The cold, damp material of her raincoat clung to her, making her shiver hard. She’d left the house in a hurry, unable to stand for a moment longer the torment of not knowing why Jarrett hadn’t called round last Sunday. But it was the bitter disappointment and fury now reflected in his crystal blue gaze that made her tremble even more.

  ‘For your information, I didn’t consider telling you anything but the truth,’ she insisted, and saw a muscle in the side of his strongly defined cheekbone flinch, as if denoting that he didn’t believe her. ‘The man who you saw me with is not my lover. He’s my brother.’

  Her companion’s lightly tanned skin actually blanched, and she saw him swallow hard. ‘Your brother?’

  An icy drip of water slid down the back of her neck from her sodden coat collar, but her blood was pumping so hard through her veins that the heat it poured into her body right then meant that she barely even registered it. ‘Yes, he’s my brother. And if you’d had the guts and good manners to open the gate and walk in, instead of skulking outside and jumping to the worst possible conclusions, then I would have introduced you to him.’

  ‘My God.’

  ‘Now you know the truth, there’s no need for me to hang around any longer.’

  ‘Please wait. Look, I’m truly sorry. You can’t know how much I mean that. I made a terrible mistake.’

  ‘That’s all that you can say? I thought you were a good man … a fair man. But then you go and shatter my illusions by behaving just like everybody else in this godforsaken place, with their small minds and unfair suspicions. I would have told you everything if you’d stayed. I see now what a bad error of judgement that would have been. Anyway, I am going to leave now, and I think it’s best if we don’t see each other again.’

  Even as the words left her lips Sophia knew she didn’t mean them. Having not set eyes on Jarrett for almost a week, she’d yearned to see him so badly that the image of his handsome face had seared itself onto her brain practically to the exclusion of all else. But she also knew it was unlikely she’d be able to trust him again, after he’d jumped to the wrong conclusion about David.

  ‘Don’t go.’ He stepped towards her and stilled her escape by catching her hand and holding it. His expression mirrored his distress. ‘At least give me the chance to make amends. You’re right. I was a small-minded idiot not to give you the chance to explain who he was. But I was so intent on seeing you that I reacted like a jealous fool when I saw you with someone I thought must be a rival.’

  ‘That’s still no excuse for staying away without even contacting me to tell me why.’

  ‘You’re right. It isn’t.’ As he lifted one broad shoulder and dropped it again in a shrug a rivulet of rain slid down his sculpted cheekbone from his still wet hair. ‘I suppose I thought the l
onger I stayed away, the longer I could delay hearing you tell me that there was someone else in your life after all.’

  The tenor in his voice conveyed genuine regret, and in spite of her reservations Sophia sensed some of her anger and tension subside. Hearing Jarrett tell her that he’d acted like a jealous fool made her realise how much it must have meant to him to see her again that Sunday, and how shocked and disappointed he must have been when he’d believed she was seeing someone else.

  He still hadn’t released her hand, and it was as though an electrical current was shooting through it simply because his big palm enfolded it. ‘There’s nobody else.’ She lifted her head, intensifying her gaze to emphasise the point. ‘But that doesn’t mean I’m looking for a relationship either.’

  His lips split into a disarming grin. ‘You know it’s going to be my mission to make you change your mind about that?’

  ‘By all means try. But don’t say I didn’t warn you when you fail.’

  Letting go of her hand, he drove his fingers through his damp ebony hair. ‘Will you still share what you were going to tell me before I made such a colossal fool of myself on Sunday? I honestly want to hear your story, Sophia. And before you say anything else, I’ll make you a cast-iron promise that I won’t share the content of what you tell me with another living soul.’

  ‘Not even your sister?’

  ‘Not even her.’

  She saw from his unwavering stare that he meant it.

  ‘By the way, where’s Charlie?’ he asked.