Playing the Joker

Leaving the child sorting through the bookcase in the sitting-room, Jo ran lightly up the stairs and tapped on the door of the larger bedroom.

‘Come in!’

She pushed open the door and went in, sighing at the chaos. Anne was sitting at the dressing-table, carefully concealing the dark shadows under her eyes. Clothes were strewn all over the bed.

‘Heavy date?’ she asked with irony.

‘Oh, don’t! I don’t know what to say to him, Jo. I wish he hadn’t proposed—I was just getting all ready to end it and he went and popped the question!’

‘He’ was Colin Bradley, a charming and delightful solicitor, widowed, with two young daughters a little older than Beth, and his interest in Anne was so blatantly as a mother substitute that they had found his declaration of love almost laughable. Laughable, that was, until Anne had realised that he meant it.

‘He’s a dear man, but——’ Anne shuddered slightly. ‘Jo, I could never sleep with him! Not after … I just couldn’t.’

Jo shoved the clothes out of the way and sat on the end of the bed.

‘Are you quite sure you’ve considered all the benefits of marriage to him sufficiently? OK, so you don’t find him all that attractive, but there’s not that much wrong with him, and he’d be a good father to Beth. And God knows you could do with a little company. Is having to sleep with him such a huge price to pay?’

Anne turned to face her friend. ‘I’ve known you for twelve years, Jo. Could you do it?’

Jo thought of Alex, of the searing ecstasy of that one night in his arms, and then thought of spending the rest of her life going through a pale imitation of that night with another man.

‘No—no, I couldn’t,’ she said softly. ‘You’re right—and both you and Beth deserve far more than that. I think Colin does, too. Yes, you’re right—tell him this evening.’

Anne sighed. ‘He’ll be here in a minute. Oh, life’s always so complicated!’

Jo thought again of Alex.

‘Annie, I have a confession. Someone’s coming round to keep me company this evening. I hope you don’t mind.’

Her friend paused in the act of hanging up the clothes again. ‘A man?’

Jo nodded.

‘Great—about time. Anyone I know?’

She nodded again. ‘Our new consultant.’

Anne whistled. ‘Blimey, that was quick!’

‘Not really. Our last date was four years ago.’ Anne dropped the dress she was holding, and stared at Jo in horror. ‘What …?’

Jo nodded slowly.

‘My God. And I thought I had problems.’

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_99e6237c-cd2b-5650-8278-db8cde6f6037)

BY EIGHT o’clock, Jo’s nerves were stretched tighter than a bow-string. Anne had gone with Colin, her nerves nearly as taut, and Beth, intuitive as always, had picked up on the tension and had been unusually awkward about going to bed.

Now, at almost exactly eight o’clock, Jo was alone. Beth was finally asleep, the sitting-room was still dingy but the toys were put away and the cushions patted into shape, and she had washed up Beth’s supper dishes and tidied the kitchen.

There were plates warming, the rickety table in the kitchen was laid, and there was nothing left to do but count her remaining marbles and wonder what on earth she’d let herself in for.

She hadn’t changed—apart from anything else she didn’t want him to think she was making an effort to impress him, and dressing down wouldn’t have fooled him either. So she was still in the dark green linen dress with the red belt and the high-heeled shoes to match. Her feet ached, but after the events of the day she was unwilling to lose even the slight advantage of height to him.

At eight o’clock precisely a big Rover pulled up smoothly outside and Alex got out and locked it. Jo stood at the kitchen window and watched as he walked towards the door, his easy stride bringing him closer with horrifying speed.

He saw her and lifted his hand, and she walked slowly out into the hall, her heart pounding. Closing her eyes, she drew a deep, calming breath and then opened the door.

He looked wonderful. He had abandoned the suit jacket and tie, and was wearing a soft blue cotton sweater over his shirt. One side of his mouth almost smiled, and her own mouth curved in response.

‘Aren’t you going to ask me in?’ he teased softly.

She flushed. ‘I’m sorry—of course—come in.’ Whatever was the matter with her? She was behaving like a lovesick teenager!

She led the way into the kitchen and he put the bag he was holding on the worktop.

‘I got Indian—mainly because it was the first take-away I found. Is that OK?’

‘Fine. I’m starving.’

‘Me too. It was a long time ago that you didn’t eat your lunch.’

She laughed, a deep, husky chuckle that relieved the tension in the air between them.

They dished up the meal and ate it ravenously, and when they had finished Jo pushed away her plate with a satisfied groan.

‘Wow!’

Alex’s eyes flickered briefly over her and returned to her face.

‘My sentiments exactly.’

Which brought the tension slamming back and clogged the breath in her throat and pooled the heat low down in her body. She stood up abruptly and made her trembling legs take her over to the sink. Perhaps she should have dressed down—to the shapeless garments he had talked about earlier?

‘Coffee?’ she asked over her shoulder.

Thank you, that would be lovely.’

She ran the water into the kettle, plugged it in and reached up to get down the coffee.

She hadn’t heard him move but he must have done, because suddenly his hand closed over hers and he turned her gently into his arms.

‘Jo,’ he whispered against her hair, and her traitorous body sagged against him, revelling in the sleek hardness of his legs, the solid depth of his chest, the shift of warm supple muscles beneath her palms as her hands crept round his waist and came to rest each side of his spine.

She had kicked off her shoes under the table and her eyes were on a level with his mouth. She could see the dark shadow on his jaw, and the slight sheen of his skin where he had just recently shaved. His lips were full and firm, and any second——

‘Alex, no,’ she moaned softly as his mouth closed over hers with infinite gentleness.