Husband Not Included

‘Believe me—your wife feels exactly the same way about her crummy, despicable husband!’ she ground out through clenched teeth, swearing under her breath as she tried to open the passenger door. ‘I really hate these trendy four-wheel-drive vehicles!’ she muttered, savagely banging her fist on the dashboard. Only to find herself becoming even more furious as he gave an infuriating chuckle of laughter.

‘Oh, dear—we really do seem to be losing our temper, don’t we?’ he murmured, calmly opening the door before scooping up her in-flight bag from the rear seat and walking towards the small blue and white cottage.

‘You...you damned man!’ she shouted furiously, tumbling out of the Land Rover and almost running to keep up with him as he strode up the steps to the front door. ‘You always were bloody-minded, and...and as obstinate as a pig!’

Calmly placing a key in the lock, he opened the door before turning slowly towards her. ‘That sounds a fair description of my wife,’ he drawled smoothly. ‘In fact, it seems as if you’ve already had the misfortune of meeting the lady. If so, you’ll know that she’s a bad-tempered, completely self-absorbed person, who’s quite incapable of thinking of anyone or anything—other than her own selfish interests.’

‘That’s a really foul thing to say!’ she cried. ‘I’m not like that. I—’

‘My dear Miss Johnson!’ he interjected swiftly. ‘I was, of course, referring to my wife. Surely you can’t imagine that I was talking about you? Especially since you’re apparently such a very, very good friend of Bernie Schwartz,’ he added, the bland smile on his lips sharply at variance with the bleak, chilly gleam in his blue eyes.

Flora stiffened. ‘And just what’s that last snide remark supposed to mean?’

Ignoring her tense, angry figure, Ross merely shrugged his broad shoulders before carrying her luggage into the main sitting room of the cottage.

Trailing slowly behind him, Flora realised that she’d been acting like an utter fool. She might loathe this hateful man, but trading insults wasn’t going to achieve anything. Not when she needed his assistance to save her career. Unfortunately, however much it might stick in her throat, she had no alternative but to eat Humble Pie.

‘Look...I’m sorry if I lost my temper just now,’ she told him stiffly. ‘It’s been a long day, and I expect I’m suffering from jet lag. But the thing is...I’ve got a problem and I need your help.’

‘My help...?’ He gave a scornful laugh. ‘You must be joking! If you want to cry on someone’s shoulder I suggest that you’d better go and weep all over Bernie Schwartz.’

‘Oh—for heaven’s sake!’ Flora gave an impatient, heavy sigh. ‘That’s the whole problem. I can’t discuss this matter with Mr Schwartz.’

Ross studied her grimly for a moment. ‘Do I gather that congratulations are in order?’

‘What...?’ she muttered, frowning at him in confusion.

‘You and Bernie, of course.’

‘Well, I’m obviously pleased to have got this job, if that’s what you mean. But the fact is that Mr Schwartz, and everyone at ACE Cosmetics—not to mention that awful Claudia woman—all think that I’m single. It’s in the contract, you see.’

He shrugged. ‘No—I’m afraid that I don’t see,’ he retorted, before turning to leave the room.

‘Oh, please...!’ she cried, swiftly grabbing hold of his arm and hurriedly explaining the situation in which she now found herself. ‘And if they find out I’m still married to you I’ll be for the high jump,’ she added desperately. ‘You’ve simply got to help me.’

Ross stared at her silently for what seemed a long, long time.

‘Well, well...the plot thickens, doesn’t it?’ he said slowly, studying her intently from beneath his heavy lids. ‘So, you want me to pretend that we’ve never met before now?’

‘Why not? After all, you were giving a very good impression of not knowing who I was when we landed from the aircraft just now,’ she pointed out quickly. ‘The point is: it’s vitally important that everyone connected with ACE continues to believe that I’ve never been married.’

‘But why should I help you?’ Ross drawled coolly. ‘It’s no skin off my nose if you get sacked from this job.’

‘How can you do this to me?’ she moaned, waving her hands distractedly in the air.

He laughed. ‘Very easily! In fact, it might be quite amusing to stand by and watch the balloon go up.’

‘Oh, that’s great—thanks a bunch!’ she stormed. ‘Leopards never change their spots. So, I should have realised that you’re still the same thoroughly obnoxious, rotten bastard who walked out on me all those years ago. Right?’

As she saw his lips tightening into a grim, narrow line, and the dark flush of colour beneath his tanned cheeks, she was gripped by a sharp sense of fierce satisfaction. Despite knowing that she was every bit as much to blame for the break-up of their marriage, Flora was finding enormous release in being able—at long last!—to give voice to her deeply buried feelings of painful heartache and bitter, dark resentment at the way she’d been treated.

‘I’m amazed that our marriage lasted as long as it did.’ She gave a shrill, high-pitched laugh. ‘It was just like you to waltz off and leave me without even one word of explanation!’

‘As I recall, there were plenty of “words”,’ he ground out in a clipped, hard voice as he took a determined step towards her. ‘But would you listen to anything I had to say? Oh, no—that was asking too much, wasn’t it?’ he added grimly, catching hold of her arm as she tried to turn away. ‘You were far too preoccupied with your so-called glamorous career—too full of yourself and too damn selfish to pay any attention to your husband.’

‘And what right did you have to expect me to throw up everything I’d worked for just because you’d been offered a job in some fly-blown, disease-ridden jungle in South America?’ she snarled, desperately trying to wriggle out from beneath his powerful grip on her shoulders. ‘Did you listen to anything I had to say? Did you hell!’

‘That was different,’ he growled.

‘Oh, right! So you admit that there was one law for you as my husband—and quite another for me in the role of wife...? Nice one, Ross!’ she grated scornfully. ‘Besides, I notice that you clearly didn’t stay in South America for more than five minutes. So, it looks as if I made the right decision after all!’

‘You always were a first-class bitch!’ he hissed, pulling her struggling figure hard up against the length of his tall, firm body.

‘And you were always a total bastard!’ she panted. ‘If I’m going down the tubes with ACE I’ll damn well take you with me. I’ll tell them—I’ll tell the whole wide world just what a vile, rotten...devious...’

But even as Flora hunted frantically in her mind for a few more nasty adjectives to describe her foul husband she was forcibly silenced as he swiftly lowered his dark head. A brief second later his lips were on hers, fierce and contemptuous, as though he intended to totally drain her of the will to defy him ever again.

Her heartbeat was pounding like a sledgehammer beneath the stormy force of his cruel mouth, her soft breasts crushed tightly against his hard frame, and she knew that Ross was using this kiss as a punishment for her defiance; the brutal arrogance of his flesh was demanding her complete submission to his iron will.

Not until she was almost fainting, her tired and weary body trembling weakly against him, did she feel his lips softening for a few, brief moments before he slowly raised his dark head.

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of their heavy breathing, and she stared numbly up at Ross, too emotionally exhausted to say or do anything, knowing that without the support of his arms she would have slumped helplessly to the floor.

But if she was incapable of speech he seemed to have no problem in finding his voice.

‘I’ve no intention of apologizing for what happened just now,’ he grated. ‘And if you’ve got any sense in that beautiful head of yours—which I very much doubt—you’ll keep well out of my way for the rest of your stay on this island.’

‘Don’t...don’t you dare threaten me, you...you foul bully!’ she gasped huskily. ‘Believe me, if I had one of my father’s shotguns to hand I wouldn’t think twice before putting a bullet through your stupid head!’

‘You’re all heart, darling,’ he murmured sardonically. ‘But then, I always say that you can take the girl out of the farmyard—but you can’t take the farmyard out of the girl. And it looks as if I’m right—especially if your new “rustic” hairstyle is anything to go by,’ he added scornfully, lifting a curly lock of her long blonde hair.

‘Leave me alone!’ she snapped, unable to prevent an involuntary shiver at the touch of his fingers brushing against her skin.

He gave a short bark of angry laughter as he spun on his heel and marched swiftly towards the door. ‘Don’t worry—I’ve got far better ways of spending my time than dancing attendance on an empty-headed blonde bimbo!’

‘Get lost!’ she yelled, almost beside herself with rage. ‘And I hope I live long enough to dance on your grave!’

‘I’m sure that you will, Flora,’ he drawled coolly.

Opening the door, he paused in the doorway, his tall, broad-shouldered figure a dark silhouette against the bright sunlight as he delivered his parting shot. ‘But at least I’ll have the satisfaction—when I’m six feet under and pushing up the daisies—of not having to watch the last waltz being performed by a wizened, lonely, toothless old hag!’

Shaking with nervous exhaustion, her ears ringing with the loud bang of the front door being slammed shut behind Ross’s departing figure, Flora waited with bated breath until she heard the sound of his vehicle fading away in the distance. Only then did she feel capable of staggering a few feet across the floor, before sinking down into a rattan chair.

Trust the bastard Ross Whitney to make sure that he had the last word! she told herself grimly, shutting her eyes for a moment and allowing the waves of mental and physical exhaustion to flood through her weary body.

Goodness knows, almost from the first moment that she’d succeeded in gaining the Angel Girl contract she had been troubled by bad vibes about the job. And how right she’d been! Because this whole trip to the Caribbean had been clearly doomed from the start. And now, having stupidly thrown away her only opportunity of gaining the support of Ross, there seemed no way of avoiding the forthcoming disaster.

How could she have been such a blithering idiot? It wasn’t as though she was a teenager and didn’t know any better. She was supposed to be a sophisticated woman of twenty-six, for heaven’s sake! So, why on earth had she allowed herself to become involved in a stupid, no-holds-barred fight with Ross? And to have effectively torpedoed her only chance of solving her problems with the cosmetic company?