Velvet Promise

A shiver of apprehension rippled down her spine, but there was no outward sign of her disturbed emotions as she continued to silently meet his gaze, willing him to talk to her.

Jordan’s gaze was finally the one to turn away. ‘You’ve turned into a veritable tigress, haven’t you?’ he scorned.

‘I’ve merely become a survivor,’ she bit out.

He shrugged. ‘It may not even happen. He’s said he was coming before and then changed his mind without warning. Simone——’

‘He?’ Willow echoed sharply. ‘You mean Russell, don’t you?’ Her unlacquered nails dug into the palms of her hands, her body rigid with tension. ‘Are you telling me he’s coming here?’

Jordan gave another dismissive shrug. ‘He only said he might visit Simone and David some time this week; nothing definite has been planned.’

‘Did he know Dani and I were going to be here?’ she demanded to know.

‘I doubt it, although Simone may have mentioned it to him. For God’s sake, don’t look so stricken; you were married to him once,’ Jordan added disgustedly.

Russell. Here. Russell, with the laughing blue eyes, overlong dark hair, and with the body of a Greek god. It had been a year since she had last seen him, the first six months of that time spent expecting to see him every time she opened the door or turned a corner, the next six months spent grateful that she hadn’t.

It was this last year of peace and tranquillity that had given her the hope he had changed during that time.

But maybe he hadn’t.

CHAPTER TWO (#u2a255127-6b28-5e55-b6cd-e1aef5c6733b)

WILLOW’S first instinct when she crawled out of bed the next morning after a sleepless night was to run, and to keep running. But she had done that when she finally managed to leave him, and he had only found her again, refusing to stay out of her life. Maybe it was time to stand and face him. She didn’t really have any choice; knew, for Dani’s sake, that she couldn’t keep running away from Russell. And maybe, just maybe, he would decide not to come here after all. It was a cowardly wish, but then she had never professed to be anything else.

While Barbara took Dani down on to the beach in front of the hotel, Willow drove into St Helier to visit her new shop, confident she could concentrate on business with the other woman in charge of Dani. The amount of customers in the shop, despite the early hour, showed her she had indeed chosen well for her third location.

It was good to see Marilyn again; she had been in charge of the London shop until moving here; the two of them were old friends. For someone who hadn’t been sure she could adjust to living on an island only forty-five square miles in size, Marilyn had adjusted very well, and was ecstatic about the beautiful weather and the friendliness of the islanders.

Willow enjoyed helping out in the shop for the morning, caught up with the last three months’ gossip with Marilyn in between working, and was satisfied that everything was running smoothly there before she left shortly after twelve, sure that the new lines she would be introducing at the fashion show next month would go over very well here.

She had told Barbara and Dani that she would join them back at the hotel for lunch, and she was buoyed up with the success of her morning as she went down to join them on the beach, coming to a halt part way down the steps as she saw the dark-haired man sitting with them on the sand, with Dani chatting away to him as if the two of them were old friends.

Then the man turned, and Willow’s breath left her body in a ragged sigh as she saw it was Jordan seated there. For a moment she had thought Dani was right, that Russell and Jordan did look alike from certain angles.

Jordan stood up as she approached them, brushing the sand from his hands as he did so. His eyes narrowed as his gaze moved searchingly over her deathly white face. He was dressed casually today, loose white trousers and an equally loose white shirt, the latter with its buccaneer style more fashionable than anything else Willow had ever seen him wear.

The white clothes looked magnificent against his dark skin and colouring, and once again Willow was unwillingly reminded that he was a very attractive man. In the past she had always been too engrossed with being Russell’s wife to really see Jordan in that way, but twice in as many days she had been made physically aware of him. She didn’t like the feeling.

Jordan had never left her in any doubt that he regarded the majority of the female sex with contempt and, although he was sexually in the prime of life for a man, Willow had rarely seen him with a woman, let alone take one home with him. Russell had occasionally hinted at an unhappy love affair in Jordan’s past, but she had never been interested enough to ask what it had been. Now she wished that she had. She had a feeling that with this man it was best to have all the aces in the deck.

‘Mummy!’ Dani’s face lit up as she spotted her; she ran across the golden sand, silver braids flying in the warm breeze, to launch herself into Willow’s arms. ‘Have you finished work for today?’ she asked hopefully.

Willow glanced at Jordan before answering, sensing his silent disapproval of the career that had taken her away from her daughter for the morning, the career he had said she didn’t need. She turned back to Dani. Did she neglect this beautiful child in favour of her career? Trips like this one to Jersey were rare, as were the ones to New York, and Dani always accompanied her when she did have to go away, albeit in Barbara’s care. But she always took care of her business in London while Dani was in kindergarten, her designs usually being created when Dani was in bed for the night.

No matter what Jordan thought to the contrary she was sure she gave more of her time and love to Dani than a lot of women in her position could, or did. And there was always Barbara.

‘For today,’ she confirmed lightly, studiously avoiding Jordan’s gaze as she turned to admire the huge sandcastle Dani had built during the morning, slipping off her sandals to dig her toes into the sensuous warmth of the sand, knowing she looked cool and comfortable in the emerald green shirtwaister with its wide black belt. ‘Everything OK, Barbara?’ She looked searchingly at the other woman as she watched them from her sitting position on the sand.

‘Fine,’ Barbara assured her briskly. ‘Mr St James has been helping us build a moat for the castle.’

‘Isn’t it lovely?’ Dani still clung to Willow’s hand. ‘Uncle Jordan said he would show me a real castle tomorrow. You have to walk out to it across the sea, and——’

‘The causeway is under the sea, Dani,’ Jordan corrected indulgently. ‘You can’t walk out to the castle unless the tide is out; we have to use an amphibious craft to cross before then. And I only said we would go if Mummy agreed,’ he added with gentle reproval.

It sounded as if Jordan had been on the beach for some time, building the moat and suggesting outings to Dani, and she couldn’t help but feel curious about his motive. He had left her last night shortly after telling her of Russell’s proposed visit to his parents; maybe Jordan thought she would go back to England before she had to face such a meeting, She certainly didn’t relish the idea of seeing Russell again, but she had told Simone and David she would take Dani to see them, and she wouldn’t go back on her word.

‘Mummy?’ Dani prompted worriedly at her mother’s lack of response.

Willow smiled down at her daughter. ‘I can take you out to Elizabeth Castle myself, Dani, if you would like to see it. I’m sure Uncle Jordan is too busy at work to take any more time off.’ She looked at him challengingly, suspicious of his suggestion to Dani; he had never given the impression that he even liked children, and yet here he was making sandcastles and offering to take Dani out tomorrow.

He shrugged broad shoulders, the loose shirt moving against the strength of his body. ‘The world of finance can do without me for a few days,’ he dismissed. ‘I’m sure Dani would enjoy the Castle.’

Willow couldn’t stop the protective action of placing her hands possessively on Dani’s thin shoulders, her daughter looked small and vulnerable in the red bathing costume that made her look all gangling arms and legs. ‘As I said, if she wants to go I’ll take her. Or Barbara will,’ she added determinedly.

Brown eyes narrowed, but whatever Jordan had been about to say remained unsaid as Barbara suggested to Dani that the two of them go for a swim in the sea. Dani ran off with a wild whoop of delight, confident that the adults would decide who was to take her to see the Castle, and Barbara had to run after her to catch up with her before she plunged into the cold water.

The warmth of love faded from Willow’s eyes as she turned back to Jordan. ‘It was kind of you take the morning off work to spend time with Dani.’ There was dismissal in her voice, and she knew by the flash of anger in the velvet eyes that Jordan had heard it—and didn’t like it!

He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers, heated anger emanating from his body. ‘How was the shop?’ he bit out.

‘It seems to be doing well,’ she answered, as coolly as he, narrowing her eyes against the sun to watch Dani cavorting in the shallow water.

Jordan nodded. ‘I have several friends who said they’ve shopped there.’

She turned to him with widened eyes; it was the first time she had ever heard him admit there were women friends in his life. ‘At the moment most of them are still curious to see the little toy Russell Stewart’s wife found to amuse herself with after the divorce,’ she derided. ‘Let’s hope they’ll still come in to buy once that curiosity wears off!’

He frowned at her self-derision. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong about their motives. Your designs are considered to be very fresh and feminine.’

‘They are,’ she said without conceit; every one of her designs, but especially the evening gowns she specialised in, was aimed at the softer more feminine side of woman that had been lacking in fashions of recent years. ‘But I met several of Simone’s set there this morning, and they were not just interested in the clothes!’

‘You always did have this strange idea that Simone’s friends disliked you,’ he dismissed with ill-disguised impatience.

‘Despised me,’ she corrected hardly. ‘The daughter of one of Russell’s own employees daring to marry a Stewart!’ She shook her head mockingly. ‘They all expected some little country bumpkin; and I certainly didn’t disappoint them!’

It wasn’t true about the ‘country bumpkin’ image; she had never lived outside the hub of London. But at seventeen, still a college student, and so obviously pregnant, she had felt gauche and unsophisticated when Russell had brought her to his parents’ home to live and introduced her to the people who were his friends, and who would be her friends too, now that she was his wife.

There had been little chance of that! She was the daughter of a salesman, her clothes were obviously made from inexpensive materials, even though they were original designs she had made herself. And she had known nothing of the privileged life those people led, with their sophisticated parties and designer-label clothes. Their morals could never be called sophisticated, only alley-cat, and she had wanted no part of that either. Although that was one thing Russell didn’t subject her to, making it obvious from the first that she was his exclusive property. Everyone thought it very amusing that Russell actually seemed in love with his pregnant child-bride, although it couldn’t be said he had set a fashion, as his friends continued their bedroom games.

‘You were the one who despised us,’ Jordan rasped grimly, also seeming to remember that time well. ‘Looking down that turned up nose of yours at the spoilt and privileged rich! How does it feel to be one of us?’ he taunted.

Her eyes flashed deeply green. ‘I’m far from being spoilt. And I’m certainly not privileged either. I had to work, and work hard, for what I have today.’

‘That isn’t what Russell’s lawyer said after the divorce,’ he scorned. ‘Russell gave you everything you asked for, and more. The poor fool was still in love with you then, wasn’t he?’

Willow could feel her face pale. ‘That’s none of your business,’ she told him shakily. ‘I don’t believe we’ve ever known each other well enough to talk this intimately about our private lives.’

Jordan moved to stand in front of her, ominously close, his gaze moving over her contemptuously. ‘Your marriage to Russell was never private,’ he scoffed. ‘A couple of dates with your father’s boss and you decided you liked the idea of a rich husband,’ he sneered.