He gazed at her with sad and unnervingly remote eyes.
‘Do you trust me so little?’ he asked quietly.
Helen felt bitterness scourging her insides. Trust? She would have staked her life on him. He had held her hopes and her love and her future in his hands. And he’d let her down.
She shuddered. It was as if she’d reached the depths of hell and suddenly she wanted to drag him there, too.
‘If you came home unexpectedly and found me half naked, surrounded by several pairs of boxer shorts and socks, riding boots, assorted spurs, scarlet jackets and a collection of plumed helmets,’ she retorted coldly, ‘wouldn’t you assume I’d jumped into bed with a Brigade of Guards?’
Dan went a sickly colour. His jaw worked as though his teeth were grinding together.
‘I’ll get that drink.’
He couldn’t get away fast enough, she thought, her face forlorn. Not only was she physically ugly to him, but she was showing a vicious, sarcastic side to herself she’d never known had existed. He’d always adored the funny slant she had on life. But now her tongue was turning to acid and burning her as well as him.
Was it any wonder, though, that she felt like lashing out? Miserably she burrowed deep into the bedclothes. She’d surrendered her heart to Dan and he’d rewarded her loyalty with the worst betrayal of all, just two years into their marriage. Of course, she thought glumly, it had been a farce for some time and she hadn’t even noticed.
All those late nights when he’d been supposedly expanding his already successful business, working with clients in the evenings and on weekends… He’d been with that woman. His exhaustion had been for other reasons than writing software, doing mega-buck deals and travelling around London till all hours of the night.
And, although she adored the career she’d chosen, she’d only worked overtime because she’d hated coming home to this vile house, to the emptiness and silence and the half-decorated rooms. Her eyes blazed in fury. All the while, he’d been cavorting with the luscious Celine and wining and dining her—
‘Here you are.’
At Dan’s voice, she shot up, furious at being deceived for so long. Her hand flew out, knocking the offered mug from his grip. Locking eyes, they both ignored the sticky mixture as it oozed over the duvet. She had questions in her glittering gaze. He seemed to be in deep shock.
‘Forget the ministrations. Let’s get the explanation over with,’ she scowled, secretly appalled by her uncontrollable feelings.
‘Better, I think, that it should wait,’ Dan said, stilted and withdrawn as he glared down at her. ‘You’re clearly in a foul mood—’
‘What do you expect?’ she spluttered.
‘A fair hearing! And I’m not going to get it at the moment, am I?’
Her mouth took on a bitter shape. ‘Did you give our marriage a fair chance?’
He blanched. ‘Yes. I did.’
‘Oh? How long for?’ she demanded. ‘A week? Or did you manage a month before you started playing the field? How long, Dan? How long has this been going on?’
‘It hasn’t. I have not been unfaithful,’ he said doggedly.
He swallowed and she thought there was the hint of moisture blurring his dark eyes.
Perhaps he was sorry now. There’d be all the problems of splitting up: sharing out the wedding presents and deciding who paid what for the furniture and carpets…
It was a nightmare. No wonder he looked sick.
She heaved in a huge breath. ‘You’ll forgive me if I find that hard to believe.’
With a face set like concrete, he handed her the hot-water bottle. She contemplated hurling it at the hideous vase his best man had given them, but grudgingly took it. She needed the warmth. Her body was as cold as Siberia.
Dan drew up a chair and sat heavily in it, the towel parting to show an expanse of tightly toned thigh. Incongruously, she wanted to touch the satiny skin.
‘Temperature,’ he said dully.
So he was miserable, she thought, jerking out of her mooning over him. Annoyed with herself for being so easily diverted by his long, powerful legs, she snatched the thermometer from him and stuffed it into her mouth, glowering at him from under her dark brows. After a moment he looked away, unable to hold her gaze. Guilt, she thought, and felt no pleasure in the certainty.
Hauling himself up as if his body were a lead weight, he moved slowly to stand by the window, the beautiful triangle of his back a stiff barrier between them. Incredibly, his dejection upset her. She tried to hate him but her heart kept betraying her efforts.
It was awful seeing someone as confident and unassailable as Dan look so diminished. He’d always given the impression that he could withstand anything that was thrown at him. All his movements had been vigorous and definite, his muscular body brimming with energy.
Now he looked as if the life-blood had been drained from him. Sympathy oozed from her and she felt herself crumple. Feeling weak, she slumped back into the plumped-up pillows, her mouth releasing a soft moan.
He was probably contemplating the future. The house would have to go, for a start. That was why he looked so bleak and depressed. He adored Deep Dene.
Whereas she was dreading the consequences of his adultery for a different reason: because she had loved him with all her heart. She pushed that from her mind, postponing the empty black hole that was her future without Dan.
She gave a little gasping intake of breath, realising that she still loved him. Madly and deeply—despite her low opinion of him. You couldn’t immediately switch off something that had been all-consuming and magical for years and years. Heck, they’d known one another since their teens and neither of them had ever looked at anyone else. Till now.
Her slender arm lifted and angled to cover her anguished eyes. It would take ages for the hurt to go away—if it ever did. Already it was searing her heart with a cramping agony and her mind seemed to be churning with disjointed thoughts…
The thermometer was slipped from her mouth and she sullenly opened dark and angry eyes to see Dan studying it, his face still bent over hers, close, touchable, the strong planes of his face achingly near.
‘Well. Let’s see.’ Low and husky, his voice seeped like hot lava into her bloodstream, startling her with unwanted sensuality. Breathing heavily, he stared at her shoulder and she hastily slid the errant satin shoulder-strap of her nightie back into place. ‘Normal,’ he declared in a tone that was anything but.
Collecting her ragged nerves together, she blinked and frowned in disbelief.
‘Can’t be. I feel rotten.’
‘See for yourself.’
She did, and was surprised. ‘Then I’ve eaten something dodgy,’ she muttered, unable to take her eyes from the sultry lines of his mouth.
He straightened, taking away temptation. ‘Do want to sleep, or do you feel up to listening to me properly?’ Dan asked stiffly, the proud carriage of his head telling her that he was going to brazen this out.
‘Sleep? Do you think I could sleep with this on my mind?’ she cried, her body still pulsing with warmth.
‘No. Of course not. All right. But on one condition. I want you to avoid making any sarcastic remarks till I’ve finished,’ he said in a horribly distant tone.
Suitably chastened, she felt her lip quivering. She shouldn’t behave like a prize bitch. Shock seemed to have turned her into a different woman, someone who wanted to lash out and yell and behave like a wounded tigress. He’d done this to her. Made her no better than an animal.
‘I’m sorry. I