The Secret Mother. Lee Wilkinson
eagerly, she’d realised later, but she had been so delighted to get the chance to go, she had forgotten to be cautious.
The party had proved a great success. Though if Caroline had known how often Matthew’s gaze had remained fixed on her rather than on Caitlin, she would have been alarmed.
But she was so taken up with watching the child, her heart in her eyes, that for her the only flaw had been the awful moment when one of the staff had referred to her as ‘Mrs Carran’, and she had seen the frozen look on Matthew’s face.
As though reading her thoughts, he broke the silence to ask a shade ironically, ‘So, did you enjoy the party?’
Warning herself to be careful this time, she answered casually, ‘Oh, yes. I’ve always liked children’s parties. Watching their expressions, the way they react, can be quite fascinating.’
‘I thought with so many youngsters to keep an eye on you might be sorry you went?’
‘Oh, no, I was happy to be there.’
‘Though perhaps you should have worn a uniform after all.’ There was a sudden bite to his voice. ‘The staff thought you were Caitlin’s mother.’
Feeling as though she’d been pierced through the heart, Caroline sat still and silent, gripped by a kind of dread, a fear of some impending blow.
But with a swift change of subject, he queried, ‘Have you ever been to Clear Lake before?’
Taking a deep breath, she lied, ‘No.’
‘It’s a wonderfully scenic area of woods and mountains and hot springs that’s very popular with New Yorkers. That’s why I decided to build a health spa there.’
With a touch of derision, he went on, ‘It allows the jaded city-dwellers—or at least the ones who can afford it—to relax and be pampered in picturesque surroundings.’
‘You sound a little...disdainful...’
‘Though I love the lake, I’ve always found the club atmosphere somewhat cloying—not to say claustrophobic. A couple of months ago, when an old house that I liked in that area came on to the market I decided to buy it. That way, when the renovations are completed, I’ll have somewhere that’s really my own to go to when I feel the need to get away from the city...’
Caroline was just starting to relax and breathe freely again when he added, ‘My stepbrother liked to get away from the city, too, but he usually stayed in a hotel north of the lake. He was having a break up there when he met the woman who became his wife. I gather they bumped into each other in the hotel lobby. It seems to have been love at first sight, at least as far as he was concerned... He fairly doted on her...’
Why was Matthew telling her all this? Caroline wondered painfully. It was almost as if he was deliberately tormenting her.
‘Though I imagine he had no idea what she was really like...’
There was anger and bitterness in Matthew’s voice now, as he added, ‘I’m sorry to say Caitlin’s mother had neither scruples nor morals.’
Caroline shivered. It was quite plain that, even after all this time, Matthew still hated his stepsister-in-law.
Signalling the end of the conversation, he pressed a button on the dashboard stereo and the plaintive sound of ‘Bridge Over Troubled Water’ filled the car.
Feeling drained, emotionally exhausted, Caroline put her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.
She must have slept for some time, because when she opened heavy lids they were pulling into the grounds of the luxury spa complex that she had first seen almost four years ago.
Then there had been blizzard conditions. Now the scene was serenely beautiful. Snow covered everything in a soft white blanket and odd flakes were still drifting down—a light scattering from what seemed to be an almost clear sky.
Well-lit roadways spread from the central area, where a tall Christmas tree hung with sparkling baubles stood in front of the main entrance. Light spilled from the long windows and lay in pools of gold across the snowy expanse.
Caroline was surprised when, instead of drawing up in front of the steps, Matthew took a road to the left and stopped outside a single-storey chalet-type house, set apart from the rest.
Catching her look of surprise, he asked curtly, ‘Something wrong?’
‘No... I just presumed that we’d be staying in your apartment in the main building.’
‘How do you know I have an apartment in the main building?’ The question was quiet but lethal.
‘Well, I—I don’t, of course... I—I just thought...’ Stammering helplessly, she broke off.
‘Well, as it happens, you’re quite right. I do have a suite of rooms kept for my own use, but there are only two bedrooms—which would have meant you sharing with Caitlin. Or me.’
Watching the burning colour pour into Caroline’s pale face, he added sardonically, ‘I didn’t care for the first option, and I thought you might not care for the second.’
Opening the car door, he got out, his feet crunching on the fresh snow. Alarmed and disturbed by his black mood and her own stupid blunder, she followed him.
Strapped into the car seat she shared with Bamaby, Caitlin was still sleeping soundly. Lifting her out with care, Matthew carried the child and bear into the chalet and through to a small, cosy room fitted out as a nursery. Then, while Caroline tucked the pair into bed, he went outside again to deal with the baggage.
When she had switched on the monitoring system and turned the nightlight down low, Caroline kissed the little girl’s sleep-flushed cheek before going back to the attractive open-plan living area.
The middle of the room was sunken, and a couch piled with soft cushions queened it in front of a copper-canopied central fireplace, where a log fire blazed merrily. To one side was an all-mod-cons kitchenette, its fridge well stocked with food.
Caroline took off her coat and hung it behind one of the sliding doors in the hallway, her thoughts still in a turmoil. She had expected to be in a hotel atmosphere, surrounded by people, and the idea of being alone here with Matthew was both wonderful and disturbing.
Not to mention dangerous. Since he’d returned from his trip his mood had been so strange and intense. So quietly explosive.
She remembered his, ‘...if I find it impossible to keep my hands off you...’ and shivered. He would only have to kiss her, touch her, and she would be lost...
When they’d first met, though she’d been already half involved with another man, she had looked at him and loved him.
He had fulfilled some deep, primitive need in her, and as she recalled her overwhelming and ecstatic response to his lovemaking perspiration dewed her forehead and made her palms grow clammy.
That depth and intensity of feeling had seemed to be mutual. But, while sweeping her off her feet with a passionate urgency, he’d been kind and caring and heartbreakingly tender.
In the intervening years, however, he seemed to have developed a streak of cruelty, and she didn’t doubt that if she gave him the slightest opportunity in his present frame of mind he was capable of tearing her apart...emotionally speaking...
The door swung open and Matthew was back, loaded with luggage, snowflakes melting on his dark hair. He put her case in the bedroom next to the nursery, then went to dispose of Caitlin’s things and his own.
It had been a long drive, and, knowing he must be ready for a drink, Caroline filled the kettle and put it on to boil.
She was spooning coffee into the pot when she heard his footsteps returning, and, glancing up incautiously, she met his eyes. For a long moment they looked at one another in silence.
A drop of melted snow ran off