Second Best Wife Read online

  'I'm a symbol of his weakness,' Julia whispered to herself. 'Every time he looks at me, I'm sure he remembers that. And as long as he does, he'll never be able to see me as I really am.'

  CHAPTER SIX

  If Adam managed to fool his friends by marrying Julia, he certainly did not fool himself. Although Julia was an extremely beautiful and desirable girl, it was the memory of Erica's Nordic fairness that still tortured him. He tried, with all his logic, to analyse her attraction, thinking of her faults as well as her virtues. It seemed to work, for he found that after a while he could regard her with more dispassion—and therefore be more critical—and when she rang him at his office to accept their dinner invitation, he was able to speak to her without feeling any kind of emotion. It was truly a triumph of mind over matter, and he was particularly pleased with himself.

  He remembered the way he had accused Julia of being jealous of Erica, and knew he had done her an injustice, for his wife in name only had never experienced deep passions for anyone, of that he was sure. She had told him she loved Roy, but Adam was prepared to swear it was a very milk-and-water kind of emotion; definitely not the all-consuming love that gave no peace to the mind.

  How would Julia behave if she really went overboard for a man? he wondered. Some day it might happen, and when it did he was determined to make certain she was looking in his direction. At this precise moment she was an admirable companion, ready to use her considerable organising talents to ensure that his home and social life ran smoothly. But if she loved him she would make a wonderful wife: passionate, pliable, loving; exactly what he wanted. He knew he was thinking as a chauvinist, but it had the redeeming feature of being an honest admission.

  Within a day of their first dinner party being arranged, Adam flew to Cairo on business, and did not return home until the day of the party. Entering the house, he was immediately aware of something different. Julia had bought a mass of plants, and a leafy palm in a mellow bronze tub brightened the dark well of the staircase. Bowls of fresh flowers stood on the occasional tables in the drawing room, and all their furniture had been rearranged. The two settees now faced each other on either side of the fireplace, instead of being at opposite ends of the room, and the chairs had been placed in several groups, to make more intimate conversation pieces.

  Adam stood in the middle of the room and surveyed it with approval. Yes, Julia was settling down well, and he was proud of himself for having made such a good choice in marrying her. There was a warmth and lived-in quality pervading the house which had not previously been present. Erica's home, though beautiful, had looked like a decorator's showcase. Adam frowned, annoyed that such a thought should cross his mind. It was foolhardy to compare the two women. Not only were they dissimilar in looks, but also in character, and one did not fall in love with someone because of character. Rather it was an inexplicable pull of the senses.

  Abruptly he strode into the hall and up the stairs. He was passing Julia's door when it opened and she stepped out, nearly bumping into him.

  'Watch out!' he smiled, putting up a steadying hand.

  'My fault,' she said. 'When did you get back? Miss Smith didn't know what time you were due in at the office.'

  'I'd no intention of going back there. I came here straight from the airport.'

  'It's not like you to play truant.'

  'Truant?' His eyebrows rose. 'Try flying to Cairo and back in three days, with business meetings as your only relaxation! I couldn't wait to get home.'

  'I just wondered,' Julia said mildly. 'In the past, you've always returned to the office first.'

  'Things are different now, my dear. After all, I have a wife waiting for me. Incidentally, you've done wonders with the drawing room and the hall.'

  'Thank you,' she said coolly. 'But there's no need to go overboard with your praise. Nor do you need play the part of the considerate husband when we're alone together.'

  Adam hid his irritation. He had especially come direct from the airport to give Julia moral support before her first dinner party, but from her composed manner it seemed he had misjudged what her mood would be. 'I'll see to the wines,' he said abruptly. 'I've already done it.'

  'The choice of wine is usually the man's prerogative.'

  'I didn't know what time you'd be back, so I had the claret brought up from the cellar this morning. Otherwise it would have been too cold. If you had wanted to choose the wines yourself, you should have done something about it before going away.'

  'I had other things on my mind.'

  'I realise that; which is why I did it for you.' Julia's glance was steady. 'All I'm trying to do is show you I can manage your home perfectly well.'

  With a mutter, Adam retired to his bedroom. He made no attempt to work out why he was irritated, deciding it was due to the journey and fatigue. This seemed to be borne out by the fact that a warm bath and a nap soon soothed his ruffled spirits, especially when, on waking, he found a thermos of coffee and a plate of smoked salmon sandwiches on his bedside table. Julia really was a jewel. In some ways it was a pity she had married him. She deserved someone who could love her, not a man who had vowed never to love again. This reminder of Erica disturbed him, and he stared for several moments into space, willing himself to relax. Then he poured himself another cup of coffee, drank it at a gulp and dropped off to sleep again.

  The sound of Julia's door closing re-awakened him with a start. It was six-thirty and he guessed she had come up to bathe and change. He decided to go in and talk to her, and was halfway out of bed when he reminded himself that he had no right to intrude on her privacy. He grimaced at the door. It was an amazing situation. To think that in this day and age he should be living platonically with his beautiful bride! And there was no denying Julia was beautiful. It was something he had only become aware of the night he had taken her to the opera. Before that she had been an impersonal shadow. I was like a horse with blinkers, he mused, seeing only what I wanted to see. Yet it was these very blinkers that had made him the singleminded and remarkably successful man he was.

  It was a pity his grandfather couldn't see him now. He wouldn't look down his beaky nose at him today, as he had done when Adam was a child.

  'Stop looking so scared, and for God's sake stop snivelling!' the old man had often barked. 'Heaven knows what's going to become of you. You'll probably bring disgrace to the family, like your mother did, or end up a penniless rogue like your father.'

  How insensitive and bigoted his grandfather had been, puffed up with false pride and prejudice. Adam had vowed early on that the old man would live to regret his words. Unfortunately his grandfather had died before Adam could prove how wrong his dire predictions had been. Yet it was the old man's taunting that had been the catalyst. For many, fame was the spur, but for Adam it had been his grandfather's belief that his tenth and most unloved grandchild would be a hopeless failure.

  There was a knock on the door.

  'Come in,' he called, and Julia did.

  It was a Julia he had never seen before: a radiant creature in pale pink chiffon. The floating lines of the skirt gave her added height, and the softly draped neckline showed her creamy shoulders to perfection. To suit the Winterhalter look of her dress, she had brushed her hair from her face, and long curls fell down one side of her neck. Her azure blue eyes, fringed with their incredibly long lashes, lowered modestly and then lifted again.

  'Well, Adam, do you like my dress?'

  Her voice sounded shaky and he sensed she was not as composed as he had thought. It was not surprising. Any bride would find it an ordeal to give her first dinner party for her husband's friends. And how much more so for Julia, in the strange situation she was in.

  'You look beautiful,' he said gently.

  'Honestly?'

  'Cub's honour.'

  'Why not a scout?'

  'If I allowed myself to believe I was old enough to be a scout,' he said gravely, 'I'd lock the door and make a lunge for you!'

  She chuckled,
and her tension eased.

  'That's better,' Adam smiled. 'Give me ten minutes to dress and then we can have a quiet drink together before our guests arrive.'

  She turned to leave, and the smooth curves of her shoulders and the paler skin at the nape of her neck looked so vulnerable that Adam longed to reach out and comfort her. He was surprised by his reaction, for he rarely felt tenderness towards anyone. Yet Julia, for all her reserve and pride, was a gentle girl who had not deserved to be hurt by the pompous ass with whom she had fallen in love. She needed a man to protect her; to show her that the opposite sex were not all flawed like her father.

  'Julia,' he said abruptly, and she turned and glanced round at him, her face so expressionless that he lost the impulse to confide his thoughts. 'It's nothing,' he finished. Just a passing thought that isn't worth mentioning.'

  By eight-thirty all the guests except Erica had arrived, and Adam signalled for another round of drinks to be served. Erica detested unpunctuality and he was sure she had deliberately chosen to be late, using this method to show she didn't give a damn how many eyes watched her make her entrance and greet the wife of the man who, until a short time ago, had been her lover. It was a courageous thing for her to do, and he could not help but admire it.

  At nine o'clock, Julia drifted casually over to him, the smile on her lips not echoed in her eyes.

  'All our guests are here except Erica,' she said in a low voice. 'If I delay dinner any longer, it will be ruined.'

  'Give Erica another five minutes,' he said. 'If she isn't here by—' Adam broke off as he glimpsed Erica's silvery blonde head in the hall, and with a murmur of apology, he went out to greet her.

  'I hope I'm not too late?' she said coolly, slipping off her mink jacket and handing it to the butler.

  'You know you are, and you don't care,' said Adam with a sharp smile. 'But better late than never.'

  'I'd have thought you'd have wanted it to be "never",' Erica replied. 'I didn't expect to be invited here again. Where's your secretary?'

  Adam stiffened. 'I've no idea. But I'd like you to meet my wife.'

  'How loyal you are,' Erica mocked.

  'I'd have been loyal to you, if you'd married me.'

  'But not loyal enough to wait four years.'

  'You know why I married Julia.' »

  'To have children while you were still young enough to enjoy them? Don't give me that story, Adam. You were furious that I put money before marriage, and you were too proud to remain in my life as my lover.'

  Ignoring the comment, Adam motioned Erica to precede him into the room, then guided her towards Julia, who was talking to Jack Burglass. The two women were a perfect foil for one another—Julia, voluptuous and sultry;

  Erica, fragile as a sliver of glass. Adam tried to look at them without prejudice, and wondered which one he would choose were he to meet them both today, for the first time. It was a fanciful question, for he already had the answer. Erica, naturally. Yet to be honest, Julia had a great deal going for her too. Once again he studied both women.

  Fire and ice. It was an apt description, and each had its merits. Coolness to help one relax; to bring calm and tranquillity before the sudden shock of raw passion. His eyes were caught by a dark red ringlet. Fire to bring warmth that would help a tired man unwind; warmth that would lead to succour and satisfaction. Julia half-turned and he saw the curve of her breasts. Satisfaction and love; for only with love would Julia surrender. He bit back a sigh. The man in her life would have much to be thankful for.

  'It was sweet of you to invite me here, Julia,' Erica was saying. 'I know Adam so well, I feel as if I'm already a friend of yours.'

  'We met quite a few times at the office,' Julia replied with composure.

  'Did we?' The dark eyes were innocent. 'I must confess I never noticed you.'

  'That's the sign of a good secretary,' Julia replied equably. 'Service with anonymity.'

  'What say we go in to dinner?' Adam put in, edgy at where the conversation might lead.

  'Of course, darling,' Julia agreed, and gave a sign to the butler, who opened the double doors leading into the dining room.

  As they took their places at the table, Adam was surprised to see that Julia had placed Erica on his right.

  'How diplomatic of your secretary to have me as guest of honour,' Erica murmured to him.

  'My wife has many virtues.'

  'You don't expect me to believe she's really your wife, do you?'

  Knowing it was impossible to continue this conversation quietly, Adam turned his attention to the woman on his left. He supposed he should be pleased that Erica was upset by his marriage, yet all he felt was a great sadness that they should both have wasted their lives. From the corner of his eye he saw the sparkle of diamonds around her throat, and the magnificent rings on her fingers, and it reminded him that she regarded money as more important than love. He raised his wine glass and, looking down the table, saw that Julia had raised hers. He tried to catch her glance so that he could toast her with his eyes, but she was too absorbed in conversation to look his way. Perhaps it was better that she hadn't, he mused, for she might have seen his desire to toast her as an act put on for Erica's benefit.

  'I want to talk to you privately, Adam,' Erica whispered.

  'What's the point?' he asked.

  'At one time you'd never ask a question like that!'

  'I never used to be married.'

  Erica's delicate mouth tightened into a thin line, and he said quickly: 'Very well. I'll see you in my study, after dinner.'

  Instantly Erica relaxed, her mouth becoming soft again. It looked prettier that way, and Adam was surprised she should allow her inner feelings to show through and spoil her beauty. Yet Julia's mouth didn't look ugly when she was annoyed. If anything, it looked more kissable. Dismayed by such disloyal thoughts, he concentrated on the conversation around him. He wanted his marriage to be a real one, but he definitely didn't want it to be confused by love. From now on, no woman would possess him emotionally, which meant he had to ensure that he didn't turn to Julia on the rebound.

  Dinner over, Julia led the women into the drawing room, and Erica raised her eyebrows at him as she followed them. Adam gave no sign of seeing it, and remained at the table while the port was passed, then excused himself by saying he had an urgent telephone call to make.

  As he walked down the corridor to his study, he felt so ill at ease that he knew subterfuge was not his scene. In his professional life he could resort to it without qualm, but not in his personal life. Not only did he want things to look right, he wanted them to be right. And that meant making his marriage a real one. The sooner he and Julia lived together as man and wife, the easier their relationship would be, and the tormenting love he had once had for Erica would become a thing of the past.

  Had once had? Adam faltered a step. Why was he using the past tense? Was it an accident of thought or had his subconscious come to the fore? Opening the study door, he went in. Erica was already there, standing in front of the hearth and looking like a pale lily in her cream chiffon dress. Of course he still loved her. The fact that his pulse did not leap at sight of her only meant his feelings were under control.

  'Adam!' She glided over and rested her face against his chest.

  Automatically his arms came around her and he felt the delicate bones of her body.

  'I love you,' she whispered, 'and I hate you for not waiting.'

  'I told you I wasn't prepared to lose four years of my life.'

  'You've still lost them,' she retorted. 'When the four years are up, you'll come back to me.'

  'No, I won't. I have a wife now, and I soon hope to have children.'

  'Children?' Erica pulled sharply away from him. 'Don't expect me to believe your marriage is real!'

  'Facts will speak for themselves.'

  Once again the delicate mouth became thin and ugly. 'You mean you're prepared to go to bed with a girl you don't love, in order to prove to your friends how ha
ppy you are?' she said sarcastically.

  'I am happy,' he replied. 'Did you expect me to mourn you for ever?'

  'Yes, I did,' Erica cried. 'You'll never forget me, no matter how hard you try. I'm your kind of woman, Adam.'

  'Not any more. At one time I thought you were, but I soon discovered I was wrong.'

  'And you'll find you're wrong again.'

  'No,' he denied. 'You turned me down once, and you won't get another chance.'

  'Won't I?' she said huskily, and stepped close to him again.

  As she pressed her body against his, memories of the passionate hours they had spent together made Adam a traitor to the present, and he could not stop the surge of desire that swept over him.

  'You see!' Erica cried, moving her hands lightly down his chest, to pause by the throbbing muscles that ridged his thighs. 'You do want me, Adam. You do!'

  'You're an easy woman to want,' he said heavily. 'But wanting isn't loving.'

  'Don't tell me you love your secretary?'

  'I love her honesty and sincerity. That's a better basis for marriage than we would have had.' Pushing Erica away from him, Adam moved to the door. 'If you'll excuse me, I should get back to my guests.'

  'You're running away because you're afraid of me,' Erica whispered, gliding towards him. 'But you needn't be, Adam. You're the only man I'll ever love, and I intend having you and Kenneth's money.'

  'Never,' he said harshly. But Erica didn't hear him because she had already gone from the room.

  With a sigh Adam made his way down the corridor. How convinced Erica was of her ability to get him back! Yet he was equally sure she wouldn't, for somehow his love for her had diminished. Was it because he had deliberately frozen his emotions to avoid further pain, or was it a genuine lessening of desire? He wished he knew the answer, but now was not the time to puzzle it out. Forcing a smile to his lips, he went back into the dining room.