“But tell me this, my sweet, who do you hate most?” About the Author Title Page CHAPTER ONE CHAPTER TWO CHAPTER THREE CHAPTER FOUR CHAPTER FIVE CHAPTER SIX CHAPTER SEVEN CHAPTER EIGHT CHAPTER NINE CHAPTER TEN CHAPTER ELEVEN Copyright
“But tell me this, my sweet, who do you hate most?”
Jordan continued, “Me for showing you what you’re capable of feeling? Or yourself because, for those few minutes, you acted like a real woman, not a scared little girl!”
Jordan let her go, his gaze contemptuous as he strode back up the path. Katherine watched him go with tears burning in her eyes. She wanted to scream after him that it wasn’t true, but he wouldn’t believe her. Why should he? Both of them knew what had happened that night. One year later she was still paying for it.
Jennifer Taylor was born in Liverpool, England, and still lives in the northwest, several miles outside the city. Books have always been a passion of hers, so it seemed natural to choose a career in librarianship, a wise decision as the library was where she met her husband, Bill. Twenty years and two children later, they are still happily married, with the added bonus that she has discovered how challenging and enjoyable writing romance fiction can be!
Wife For Real
Jennifer Taylor
CHAPTER ONE
KATHERINE felt the ripple of excitement which ran around the church as another guest arrived for the wedding. It had to be someone really special, she mused, to have caused such a stir. She turned to see who it was but one of the ushers was blocking her view of the newcomer.
She turned back, and smiled as she caught her brother’s eye. Peter gave her a brief smile in return, then looked away almost immediately. He seemed lost in a world of his own as he sat with his head bowed and his fingers worrying the carnation pinned to his lapel.
Katherine frowned, wondering not for the first time what was wrong. It was normal for the groom to be a little nervous on his wedding day, but even last night, when they’d had dinner together, Peter had appeared unusually tense. He had eaten only a few mouthfuls of the meal she had prepared for them, but had drunk rather too much of the wine which had accompanied it.
Katherine had been tempted to say something about that. But she had consoled herself with the thought that Peter would have drunk far more if he had gone out with his friends for a stag night party. She had been delighted when he had asked if he could spend the evening before the wedding with her, yet now it struck her as an odd thing to have done. Was there something wrong? Something that Peter hadn’t told her...?
‘Katherine.’
She recognized the deep voice at once and her heart seemed to stop beating as she turned to look at the tall, dark-haired man standing beside the pew. ‘Jordan... what... what are you doing here?’
‘Where else would I be on such a special occasion?’ He smiled cynically as he slid into the seat beside her. ‘I’m sure people would start wondering what was wrong if I didn’t turn up for your brother’s wedding, and that’s the last thing we want, isn’t it? So let’s set everyone’s mind at rest straight away.’
Before Katherine could guess what he intended, he leant over and brushed her mouth with a kiss. His lips were cool, despite the heat of the June day. They sent a tingle, almost like a shiver, racing through her. Katherine jerked her head away, her grey eyes darkening in shock as they met the mocking blue ones which were staring at her.
‘Smile, darling. Everyone’s watching.’ Jordan laughed softly, so softly that Katherine knew she was the only one to hear the taunt in his voice. ‘I’m sure they’re all delighted to see husband and wife having such a touching reunion—today of all days.’
Katherine drew back abruptly. She could feel the shock rippling through her; frissons of alarm were mixed with other feelings she didn’t want to think about too hard right then. ‘I... I had no idea that you were coming. Charles never mentioned that you would be back in time for the wedding.’
‘Didn’t he? But then Charles only manages the firm in my absence. He isn’t my confessor. I don’t report everything I intend to do to him.’ Jordan smiled, but his eyes were hard. ‘You’ve seen him recently, then, I take it?’
Katherine nodded, wondering why she felt so uncomfortable. It was the way Jordan was looking at her, his expression almost accusing, although she had no idea what she was being accused of.
‘I saw Charles on Thursday night, as it happens. He’d managed to get tickets for the final performance by the Russian Ballet. It was kind of him to invite me to go with him.’
Her grey eyes challenged him to disagree but Jordan merely shrugged. ‘Very kind. But then that’s the sort of man Charles is—kind and considerate. Nothing at all like the man you married, Katherine.’ He gave a deep laugh as he saw her colour rise at the mocking comment. ‘Still, Charles does lack my one real virtue. He doesn’t have my money, does he? What a pity. He could be perfect apart from that rather large flaw.’
Jordan picked up the service sheet and started to read through the list of hymns. Katherine took a small breath but it didn’t help. She could feel herself trembling, and hated the feeling that she wasn’t in control. It was all due to the strange way Jordan was acting—that plus his unexpected arrival, of course.
She frowned, wondering why he had turned up like this. He had always been meticulous about letting her know if he would be attending any function they had been invited to. So why hadn’t he done so this time? After all, it was a system which had worked well over the past year. Appearing together on the odd occasion kept up the front that their marriage wasn’t the sham they knew it to be.
Jordan had made it plain when she had told him that she could never live with him that he didn’t want anyone to know the truth. Katherine had been happy to agree to his demands because they suited her as well.
It had proved surprisingly easy to convince everyone that their marriage was a success simply by attending a few engagements together. Jordan was out of the country on business so often that they had the perfect excuse to keep those occasions to the minimum—no more than three or four in the past year, in fact. Whenever they met, he treated her with a cool courtesy which had soon quietened any fears she’d had as far as his motives were concerned.
They lived virtually separate lives beyond that. When he was in London, Jordan either slept at his club or Katherine went to stay with her father so that he could use the flat in Mayfair. He travelled extensively, overseeing the latest projects his company was working on, so that sometimes Katherine found herself wondering how much time they would have spent together