CHAPTER NINE
SHE was no nearer answering those questions the next morning, as she and Nick sat silently at the breakfast bar, neither of them eating, but both having drunk copious cups of coffee since they’d got up just after seven o’clock.
Hebe had been lying in bed pretending she was asleep by the time Nick got off the phone the previous evening, forcing herself not to move or change the even tenor of her breathing as he came into the room and looked down at her, calling her name softly, sounding puzzled rather than annoyed when she didn’t respond.
She hadn’t been asleep, of course. How could she possibly have slept when she had no idea what was going to happen next?
Surely the fact that Sally had telephoned Nick now, when he was on the eve of marrying someone else, had to be significant?
If nothing else, it was a case of dog-in-a-manger: Sally couldn’t live with Nick herself, but she didn’t want anyone else to have him either!
And, if that were true, the other question was how had Sally known Nick was going to remarry? Logically it had to be either Nick himself who had told her—although that was unlikely, in view of his initial surprise at Sally’s call. It must have been a member of Nick’s family who had chosen to impart that information to his first wife.
Anyway, it didn’t matter how the other woman had found out. Her motive for calling Nick had been obvious and the closeness Hebe and Nick had shared had been totally shattered by her call.
In fact, Hebe had ended up crying herself to sleep. She was angry with Nick. But she was angry with herself too! Angry because a part of her had still wanted to get up out of her bed and go to him, to lose herself in his arms once again.
She stood up abruptly. ‘I had better be getting to work—’
‘Don’t be silly, Hebe.’ Nick turned to her impatiently. He looked as if he hadn’t slept too well the previous night, either, and his temper was on a very short fuse. ‘I spoke to Jane and told her you won’t be working at the gallery any more.’
Hebe eyes flashed deeply gold. ‘Then you had better just go and tell her differently, hadn’t you?’
Nick scowled. ‘And why would I do that?’
‘Because until Gina finds someone else to share the flat with her I intend paying my half of the rent, and I need a job to be able to do that. Besides,’ she added irritably, ‘I’ll decide when and if I leave my job!’
Nick eyed her impatiently. ‘Not if I decide to sack you first,’ he bit out tersely.
‘You can try,’ Hebe challenged. ‘That should look quite interesting in the newspapers—Wife Sues Husband for Unfair Dismissal!’
Nick drew in a long, controlling breath in an effort to hold on to his already tightly stretched temper. ‘Hebe, as my wife you will have no need to work. Ever again.’
Angry colour flared in the pallor of her cheeks. ‘I’m not your wife yet—’
‘Semantics—’
‘Sense,’ she came back forcefully. ‘I do have rent to pay.’
‘I’ll pay your damned rent until Gina finds someone else,’ he snarled, impatient with her stubbornness.
Just impatient, really. He hadn’t been able to believe it when he’d got back to his bedroom last night and found Hebe gone.
She hadn’t been in the bathroom or the kitchen when he’d looked, leaving only the spare room. And that was where he’d found her, curled up in the bed there, fast asleep!
She hadn’t responded to the soft prompting of calling her name, either, and other than actually shaking her awake Nick had had no choice but to leave her there and go back to his own bedroom.
To a soaking wet bed!
By the time he had completely changed the bedclothes and got into bed himself he had been wide awake, staring at the portrait he had brought up from his office the previous day.
Hebe…
He could just see himself in the years to come, Nick brooded, staring at a portrait of the woman he loved because the reality still eluded him. Just like Jacob Gardner, damn it!
Another night without sleep certainly hadn’t calmed his annoyance.
As Hebe was learning only too well!
She stiffened resentfully at his dictatorial tone. ‘I don’t need you to pay my rent or anything else! If something should go wrong with this pregnancy—’
‘What do you mean, go wrong?’ Nick pounced harshly, his frown fierce.
‘No, Nick—I wouldn’t do anything to harm this baby,’ she sighed wearily as she saw the accusation in his eyes. ‘According to your theory of my being a gold-digger that wouldn’t serve my purpose at all, now, would it?’ She gave a derisive shake of her head. ‘But if anything should go wrong you won’t want me as your wife any more, will you? Which means I’ll need a job!’ she scorned.
Though she somehow couldn’t see herself continuing to work for Nick—or him letting her do so—if the two of them divorced.
Nick glowered at her for several long seconds. ‘That won’t happen,’ he finally growled. ‘And if it should I’ll just get you pregnant again!’
Her eyes widened. ‘Why on earth would you want to repeat the same mistake with a little gold-digger like me?’
His mouth twisted scornfully. ‘For exactly that reason,’ he told her coldly. ‘There is no way I am ever going to let you divorce me, Hebe!’
Hebe realized that was because Nick believed a divorce would result in a divorce settlement—the handing over to her of lots of Cavendish money—and he had no intention of that ever happening!
‘Fine,’ she snapped. ‘But even as your wife I’ll decide what I’m going to do, not you!’
He closed his lids briefly, his eyes deeply blue when he opened them to look at her once again. ‘You’re just spoiling for a fight this morning, aren’t you?’
She stiffened. ‘Not that I’m aware of, no.’
‘Liar,’ he muttered disgustedly, his gaze probing now. ‘And I’m not exactly in a good mood myself,’ he warned her unnecessarily. ‘Why the hell had you disappeared when I came back to bed last night?’
Hebe avoided that searching gaze, not wanting him to so much as guess that she had overheard some of his conversation with his ex-wife. That would be just too embarrassing. Besides, with the opinion Nick already had of her as a schemer, he would probably think she had listened to his telephone call on purpose.
She shrugged dismissively. ‘I was tired, so I went to bed.’
Nick breathed deeply through his nose as he continued to look at her. ‘You were already in bed—’
‘But not my own bed,’ she insisted.
He shook his head frustratedly. ‘You don’t seriously think I’m going to let you continue to sleep in another room after last night?’
‘That’s exactly what I think,’ she dismissed, turning away, wondering when—or if—he was ever going to tell her that it had been Sally who’d telephoned him yesterday evening.
Probably never, she decided heavily.
After all, he had loved Sally, and their child had been born into a marriage of love. This child would be born into a marriage of convenience. If their marriage still went ahead, that was.
‘As I said, I’m going to work now,’ she told him stiffly.
Going down two floors to work was going to be convenient, at least. It was about the only convenience for her that