Her Marriage Secret. Darcy Maguire

her shoulder, letting it drop to the small of her back as he steered her out of the restaurant.

      The touch of his hand was almost unbearable in its gentleness, reminding her again of all she’d lost.

      ‘I’ll take you home.’

      ‘No!’ The last thing she wanted was Jake anywhere near her house. ‘I’m fine. I don’t live far. A taxi is fine.’

      ‘If it’s not far, then there’s no argument.’ His voice was firm, final, and he showed no sign of relenting as he nudged her towards the parked cars.

      They walked down the footpath and Meg’s mind rattled around in circles. Mixed feelings surged through her. Half of her wanted to heave the hard truth from her shoulders onto his; the other wanted nothing more than to crawl into her bed and wait until he was gone again.

      Jake stopped beside a black BMW.

      Meg was surprised. ‘No four-wheel drive?’

      ‘I’m not your father, Meg.’ His expression darkened with an unreadable emotion.

      Meg looked away. She knew that! Every inch of her knew that. How was she going to survive the drive with him when already the tension between them was making her ill?

      He opened the door for her and she slipped into the car. The heady new leather smell hit her first, and then the opulence of what appeared to be a brand-new car. The seat cushioned her perfectly, and the dashboard was a myriad of controls that blurred into insignificance as Jake claimed the driver’s seat beside her.

      The spacious car suddenly felt cramped. The leather scent mingled with the scent of his spicy cologne, igniting Meg’s senses, reminding her body of what it had once known, what was so close to her again.

      She breathed slowly, willing herself to keep her attention away from him, away from his muscled thighs so close to her. The fabric of his trousers stretched taut as he worked the clutch, gunning the motor to life and slipping the car into motion. One hand held the wheel, the other was on the stick shift…large hands and long fingers that Meg recalled being as gentle and persuasive as they were hard and strong.

      The journey seemed to take for ever. When he finally pulled up outside the terraced house she couldn’t help but expel her breath in relief.

      ‘My driving that bad, is it?’

      ‘I’m sorry.’ She could feel the heat rise in her cheeks. He must think her an idiot. ‘Not used to it, I guess.’ Better to let him think he was a crazed driver than for him to know how much her body longed for him.

      Jake cast a long look over his shoulder and ahead, down the dimly lit, deserted street, and then at her home. ‘I’ll walk you to your door.’

      ‘Thanks, but I’m fine. I can get to my own door without help.’ She could see there was a light on through the lacy curtains of the front windows. The outside light shone onto the intricate paintwork she’d had done to bring the worn old masterpiece back to her former glory. The house was brick but all the trims were timber, now a glorious rich cream.

      ‘A gentleman wouldn’t have a lady go to her door alone in the dark.’

      ‘What gentleman?’ she scoffed, trying to lighten the mood between them. ‘I don’t see one.’ She looked around the pristine car, and outside, up and down the quiet street, wishing fervently that Jake would just let it go and drive away.

      ‘You’re not looking,’ he said in what sounded like all seriousness, and he alighted from the car before she could say anything else.

      ‘Oh, really?’ she called after him. She dug her nails into the soft leather of her handbag as Jake opened her door. ‘I can do it myself.’

      ‘I have no doubt of that. But I’d like to show you how my manners have improved.’ He held out his hand to her.

      Meg eyed it suspiciously before surrendering hers to him. She felt the surge of blood from her fingertips to her toes—he was radiating his charm and she had to be mindful not to succumb again.

      He released her and cupped his hand gently under her elbow, steering her up the shadowy path to her door.

      His touch was torture; her traitorous body responded instantly with shivers down her back. ‘I’m sure Vivian is thrilled with your manners.’ Meg needed to remind him as well as herself where his loyalties lay to still her body’s frenzy.

      Jake didn’t falter.

      Meg crossed her fingers. Nearly there. Her heart beat faster with every step closer to her front door. She wanted desperately for him to go, to turn around right there and speed off in his car, without looking back and definitely without going any closer. But she knew it was useless. Any more argument or protest would make him suspicious.

      Meg extracted her elbow from his touch as soon as she reached the doorstep. She fumbled for her keys in her bag, cursing them under her breath for being so elusive at a time like this.

      ‘Well, thanks for a lovely evening. I hope you didn’t mind me being honest with you.’ She hoped she sounded calm and composed.

      ‘Not at all. Though I sort of expected a bit more.’ He regarded her with a speculative glance. ‘Is there something you’re not telling me?’

      A cry from inside made Meg cringe.

      ‘What was that?’ There was an edge of concern in his voice. He tilted his head and looked at her uncertainly.

      ‘A cat?’ Meg prayed he’d accept it and leave.

      ‘There’s no way that sounded like a cat.’ She could see his jaw clench in the soft light, and his eyes narrowed and bored into hers as if he could hunt for an answer in her face.

      The cry sounded again, more urgent, curling Meg’s stomach into knots. ‘I share the place with a girl with a baby,’ she blurted. She shoved the key into the lock and turned it.

      ‘Meg?’ Jake said hesitantly.

      She paused, turning to him. ‘Yes?’ she asked innocently.

      The door flung wide. The young girl’s eyes were wide and full of concern, the toddler on her hip reaching out. ‘Thank God you’re back. He’s been crying for you for ages. He just won’t settle.’ She thrust the little boy into Meg’s arms, ignoring Jake next to her.

      ‘Mama,’ the toddler cried. He wrapped his small arms tightly around Meg and buried his face in her neck.

      Meg couldn’t bring herself to look at Jake. What could she possibly say?