Keisha had left school at eighteen—there had been no money for university or higher education; she’d needed to earn a living. Her mother had suffered from bouts of depression ever since her husband had left and had never worked. Therefore Keisha had felt it her duty to get a job—even though she would have liked nothing better than to join her friends at university.
She’d found employment as an office junior at Hunter’s advertising agency. Every female had been in love with the boss; even the guys had admired him. He’d had jet-black hair and dancing blue eyes, and the looks of a film star. Not that he’d seemed aware of it; he hadn’t been big-headed or vain. Just totally at ease with himself.
When Keisha had dropped a folder full of papers he had helped her pick them up and she had been flattered. But when their eyes had locked momentarily she’d felt a thrill of something unexpected. And when, a couple of days later, he’d asked her out on a date she’d been overcome.
Of course she hadn’t refused him; who would have? Even though she’d felt that he was out of her league! She had thought that it would be a one-off date, that he would quickly realise how young and immature she was. But it hadn’t worked out like that. One date had followed another, followed swiftly by a proposal, and three months later, just after her nineteenth birthday, they’d been married.
It hadn’t been a big flamboyant wedding, just a quiet ceremony in their local church. Her mother had bought herself a new outfit, and Keisha had worn a white satin dress that had fitted her like a dream. It had been a beautiful day from start to finish, the best in her life, and Keisha knew that she would remember it for ever. She would tell her children about it—and her grandchildren.
In the headiness of new-found love she had forgotten all about her promise to herself never to get married, never to trust the opposite sex. This was the man for her; of that she had been very sure. He would never let her down the way her father had her mother. And she had got swept along by the excitement of the occasion.
It had been the talk of the office. Love at first sight and a whirlwind affair. The other girls had been green with envy, but most of the men had been relieved because, as they’d jokingly said, they no longer needed to keep an eye on their girlfriends or wives.
‘So what is it that has caused you to fade away like a wispy cloud?’
Hunter’s voice broke into her thoughts, and she was grateful because she didn’t want to think about what might have been. It had been a fairytale love affair, a fairytale wedding, and then poof! Gone! Exploded like a firework. Nothing left except memories.
‘I doubt you’d be interested,’ she said, deliberately keeping her chin high and her tone cool.
‘Believe me, I would.’ His head was bent towards her, his voice a low rumble in his throat.
His voice had urged her on so many times into the most wonderful and magical love sessions. It was deep and sexy; he had mastered the art of turning bones into jelly and blood into water. His voice had made her his prisoner. When he’d spoken to her like that she would have done anything for him.
Even now she could feel the fine threads of his web closing around her.
‘I owe you nothing,’ she said firmly. ‘And I’d really like you to go away and leave me to enjoy myself.’
Hunter had no intention of leaving Keisha’s side. When he’d seen her enter the room he had been unable to believe his eyes. Her disappearing act had been so final that he had thought never to see her again.
Three years ago he’d been captivated by her youthful innocence, by her lovely heart-shaped face and her infinitely kissable lips. He had been unable to get her out of his mind, and when she’d accepted his proposal he’d been the happiest man alive.
It hadn’t occurred to him that she wasn’t yet ready to be bound by the confines of marriage. That jealousy and insecurity would be their downfall. All he’d known was that he loved her and wanted her by his side for the rest of his life.
At his insistence Keisha had given up her job and moved into his apartment in the City. A few months later they’d moved into a beautiful house in Surrey, and he’d been happier than he’d ever been in his life. So when, just after their first wedding anniversary, Keisha had walked out on him, he’d been gutted.
He’d known she wasn’t happy with the long hours he worked. Maybe it had been wrong to insist that she give up her job—but how could he have kept his attention on his work with his beautiful, sexy wife within arm’s reach?
When she’d complained that she had nothing to do, when she’d declared that there were only so many times she could visit her mother or trail around the shops, he had suggested she find herself a hobby.
What he hadn’t expected was for her to join a gym, and it had worried him when he overheard her on the phone to her friend Gillian, saying how sexy the men there were. And more especially when she’d mentioned one man in particular. But when he’d questioned her she had declared that he was no more than a friend. That he was in fact happily married.
‘Why don’t you join too, then you can meet him?’ she’d suggested. ‘His name’s Marc Collins. He’s actually a friend of someone I went to school with.’
But he had declined the offer, accepting that if she was prepared for them to meet then he had nothing to worry about.
Conversely, he had known that Keisha harboured ideas that he was seeing another woman—they’d had enough arguments about it. But he’d thought she’d accepted that there was no one else.
How wrong he had been!
He had returned home one evening at about a quarter to midnight, after working solidly on a new advertising campaign, and she had dropped her bombshell. She had told him that she was leaving. And her eyes had been so cold and distant that he’d found it hard to believe she was the same girl who had been so passionately in love with him.
He had looked at her in total disbelief. ‘Keisha, tell me you’re joking.’
But she hadn’t been. They’d talked long into the night and he’d used all his powers of persuasion before he had finally made her promise that she would stay. That night they’d had the best sex ever—their love life had always been amazing, but that had been something different. It had felt as though they were renewing their vows, and he’d gone to work the next day feeling ten feet tall, fully confident that they had resolved their differences.
But that evening when he’d got home she’d gone.
He’d phoned her mother. He’d phoned everyone who might know where she was. Without result. At first he’d been worried, and he’d thought about calling the police. Until he’d realised that she couldn’t exactly be classed as a missing person. She’d walked out because she wasn’t happy.
She had fooled him into feeling safe.
Gradually his concern had turned to anger. How could she do this to him? Why? He had thought their love was indestructible.
Then he’d found out that it had nothing to do with the long hours he kept, or her delusions about other women. She’d used that as an excuse. She was the one who’d been having an adulterous affair. She’d said that her male friend was just that—a friend, a married friend—and he’d believed her. But he’d spotted her out on the street with her arms locked around his neck—at least he’d presumed it was the same guy. Even if it wasn’t, she’d clearly been infatuated with whoever it was.
She had been blatantly kissing him! In broad daylight!
Blood had fizzed in front of his eyes; he’d felt both revulsion