The E-mail was a reply from Mary. ‘Congrats: but I still think diamonds are a girl’s best friend.’ Chuckling to herself, Lisa spent the rest of the morning thoroughly absorbed in her work. It was only when her stomach rumbled and she glanced at the time in the corner of the screen that she realised the morning had gone.
She couldn’t resist one more visit to the Internet, and was rewarded with ‘You have mail’. As it was the afternoon in the UK, it had to be early morning in Montana, from where Jed was replying.
‘You lucky lady. The computer sounds great, but do I detect a trace of coolness in your attitude to the giver, and so soon??? Correct me if I am wrong. I’ll get back to you later. I have to go milk the cows.’
Something in the tone of her message must have given him an insight into her confused state of mind. That was just so Jed. For a man she had never actually met, he had an amazing sensitivity where she was concerned. She sent a brief reply: ‘Stick to analysing the cows, farm boy. I’m fine. A glimmer of a genuine smile brightened her face as she closed down the computer and wandered back through the apartment to the kitchen.
Lisa made herself a cheese sandwich and, filling a glass with milk, she placed it and the plate on a tray and took her late lunch out to the rooftop garden. It was a gorgeous sunny afternoon, and, placing the tray on a Victorian wrought-iron table, she sat down on one of the matching chairs and picked up one half of her sandwich.
She munched her food without really tasting it, her mind awash with conflicting thoughts. She glanced at the gold watch on her wrist; it read slightly after three o’clock. Alex wouldn’t be back before five-thirty at the earliest. There was still time for her to leave. But did she really want to? she asked herself. And, much as she hated to admit her weakness, the answer was no. The trouble was, she realised Alex the man she had married, was not the man she’d thought he was. She had never really known him…
She had always recognised Alex had a ruthless streak in him. He wouldn’t be a success in the business world without a certain killer instinct to succeed. But, naively perhaps, she had never expected that side of his nature to be turned on her.
Even now she was not convinced he had meant his threat. He had said they would make a pact to start again, and by her silence she had given her agreement.
She could almost forgive him Margot’s amazing intrusion last night. Her lips twitched in the beginnings of a smile. Alex’s face had been a picture of outraged horror when she had clicked the light on and he had realised it was Margot climbing into their bed! He could not have faked his expression in a million years. He was usually so self-possessed—even in the throes of passion he never totally lost control.
Passion. That was another problem. Lisa had decided to stay, but was she prepared to crawl back into bed with Alex? The next week was taken care of; he wouldn’t bother her knowing she had her period.
A deep sigh escaped her and, arching her back to get the tension out of her shoulders, she picked up the glass of milk and drained it, before replacing it on the tray. Then she stood up and carried the lot back to the kitchen. Lounging around the roof garden solved nothing, she told herself firmly. Action was what was needed.
Half an hour later Lisa was standing in the hall, a pile of clothes topped with lacy underwear in her arms, as she tried to push open the guest bedroom door with her rear.
‘What the devil….?’ Alex was walking towards her discarding his tie in the process, and looking distinctly puzzled.
‘You’re back early,’ she said inanely, and met his dark gaze with a frown, her eyes lingering on the chiselled features and settling briefly on his mouth. Which was a mistake. He was tight-mouthed with anger.
‘No, just in time, it would seem. Care to explain what you are doing? Or shall I guess,’ he drawled cynically, moving to stand inches from her. His hand plucked a pair of crimson lace briefs off the top of the pile of clothes she was carrying, and swung the offending garment back and forth on one long finger.
He had caught her at a disadvantage, with her back to the door and her hands full. She had nowhere to go. ‘Put them back,’ she muttered, the colour rising in her cheeks, and she knew her face must almost match the briefs.
‘I think that is my line, Lisa.’ A faint smile tugged the edges of his mouth, but the expression in his eyes was still totally cynical. ‘That room is your study, nothing more. So try acting like an adult instead of a spoilt child and return these.’ He dropped the red briefs back on to the pile of clothes. ‘Back to where they belong, in the master suite. I thought we had settled our differences this morning. I hope I was not wrong?’ Shrugging out of his jacket, he hooked it over one shoulder and with his free hand began unbuttoning the first few buttons of his shirt.