She felt her nipples peak beneath his sultry eyes, and knew he’d noticed when he abruptly pushed himself to his feet and disappeared in the direction of the kitchen, telling them tersely, ‘I’ll make fresh coffee.’
‘My, I never thought I’d see the day when Jed got all domesticated! You’re obviously very good for him!’
Not so you’d notice, Elena thought drily as Catherine laid down her cutlery and patted her round tummy. ‘He insisted on making me scrambled eggs, even though everyone knows I should go on a crash diet What are you having?’
‘Just juice.’ She poured some from the frosted glass jug and lay back in the sun, trying to look relaxed. Thankfully, this morning’s session of feeling nauseous had only lasted a few minutes, and she’d managed to keep a glass of water down. At her mother-in-law’s mock frown she added, ‘I don’t eat much in the morning, but, boy, do I make up for it at lunchtime!’
She buried her nose in her glass to hide the sudden onslaught of misgivings. Some time in the not too distant future Catherine would have to be told about the pregnancy. Was Jed aiming to pass Sam’s child off as his own, forestalling the type of scandal he would hate? If so, he was in for an unpleasant surprise, because if there was no hope of saving their marriage she was sticking to her intention of making a clean break, the timing of which was dependent on how long it took Catherine to get back on an even keel.
Jed walked out with the fresh coffee, speaking to his mother. ‘Would you like to stay here and rest up while Elena and I go down to the village for provisions?’
Elena accepted the fresh coffee he poured her and knew what he was up to. Suddenly he wasn’t so sure about his own ability to act the part of a loving bridegroom in front of his parent, and in any case he probably wanted privacy to read her another riot act.
‘Don’t be silly, darling,’ she drawled, before her mother-in-law could reply. ‘Catherine hasn’t come all this way to sit on her own on my patio. Why don’t we go down to Cadiz, shop, have lunch, sit by the sea?’ She turned her wide smile on her mother-in-law. ‘You’d like that?’
‘Oh, it sounds lovely, dear! Cadiz—so romantic—Francis Drake and Trafalgar—and wasn’t it there that the King of Spain got his beard singed?’
‘Out in the bay.’ Elena smiled. ‘If you extend your stay, and I hope you will, we could cross it on the ferry—the locals call it the vapor—and visit Puerto de Santa María. It’s well worth the effort.’
Catherine beamed. Elena could see the earlier flicker of uncertainty wiped from her face. She had invited herself here, and Jed’s suggestion that she spend the morning alone must have made her feel like an intruder. Jed wasn’t normally insensitive where his bereaved mother was concerned. His suggestion that they leave her behind clearly showed that she was getting to him.
Elena turned a sultry smile on her stony-faced husband. ‘Then that’s settled, darling.’ She watched his eyes go black as she lounged back in her chair, stretching her arms above her head provocatively. She hid a smile. If he accused her of flaunting herself, he’d be right. It was the only way she could think of to get her own back!
‘Then perhaps you should get ready to leave?’ He’d turned his back on her, staring out across the rumpled mountains. His voice was as smooth as cream, with an underlying strand of steel only she could detect
She got lazily to her feet to obey his order. She could afford to be magnanimous; she was winning, wasn’t she? Yes, the hard line of his shoulders was rigid beneath the fluid folds of the grey-green shirt he wore tucked into the waistband of his narrow-fitting stone-coloured trousers. She was really getting to him!
Swinging round to Catherine, she advised, ‘Wear flatties; there’ll be quite a lot of walking. And a shady hat. If you haven’t brought one with you I can lend you one of mine.’
She wandered back to her room, not letting herself think beyond the trip to the capital of the province. If she was to get through the rest of Catherine’s stay without going to pieces, she couldn’t afford to think.
A toning button-through gauzy cotton skirt and matching short-sleeved jacket made her look decent. But she left all of the skirt buttons undone, apart from the top two, just to be provocative. She pushed her feet into thonged sandals, crammed a floppy-brimmed straw hat on her head, found another for Catherine and was ready to face Jed again.
She found him blandly urbane, excessively polite as he drove them down the mountain, following Elena’s directions as they skirted the tiny red-roofed, white-walled village that clung to the lower hillside and spilled down into the valley.