Secret Son, Convenient Wife Page 8

  “They’re a handful at this age,” Peggy said.

  Nathan was the excuse Gemma needed. She moved to collect him from Tate’s arms. “I’d better take him upstairs for a wash first.”

  Tate handed Nathan over without a word and she made her escape. But not before she’d seen the look in her husband’s eyes. He considered her a person who would never change for the better. A person worthy of his mistrust. It was just a pity he couldn’t see how inflexible he was being himself.

  Surprisingly, later that day they did go for that drive, and Tate was polite but remote, as if he’d been reminded of exactly who his wife was and regretted getting close to her earlier. He was the same for the rest of the week, whether they went sightseeing or lazed about on the patio with Nathan or watched television together after dinner. The only time he’d said anything the least personal to her was when she’d been lounging on the deck chair, immersed in a book.

  “Don’t stay out here too long in the sun or you’ll get burned,” he’d warned, startling her as he’d stepped onto the patio.

  She looked up at the sky, noting the sun was overhead. “I was in the shade before.”

  “Yes, but the sun’s moved.”

  He went back inside.

  And that was that.

  He’d done his duty.

  Then, halfway through Friday morning, Gemma was about to leave her room when she caught sight of the light flashing on the telephone beside the bed. Nathan was asleep in his crib. Tate and Clive were in the garage checking on a problem with Clive’s car. The sound of the vacuum cleaner came from another part of the house and she knew Peggy couldn’t hear the telephone ringing. Thinking it might be important, Gemma picked up the handset, almost dropping it again at the sound of the male voice on the other end of the line.

  “Well, well,” Drake Fulton’s voice said into the black hole that suddenly swallowed her up. “If it isn’t Gemma Watkins…oops, it’s Gemma Chandler now, isn’t it?”

  He sounded pleasant enough, if anyone had been listening on another extension, but she knew there was more than that in his voice. “What do you want, Drake?”

  “Congratulations are in order, I believe. A marriage and a son. Well done, Gem.”

  She clasped the phone tighter. She hated him calling her Gem. He only ever did that in private. “Are you looking for Tate?”

  “I was.” He didn’t acknowledge her abrupt tone. “I wanted to apologize again for not being able to make the wedding, but I thought it best I didn’t go. Tate agreed with me that it was the right thing to do…under the circumstances.”

  Gemma had to bite her tongue. This man didn’t know how to do the right thing, under any circumstances. “I’ll tell Tate you called.”

  “No need,” he said cheerily. “I’ll phone him back another time.”

  “Goodbye, Drake.” She hung up with shaking fingers and sank down on the bed, thoughts milling in her head. Drake hadn’t called to talk to Tate at all. He’d called on the off-chance that she might answer the phone, otherwise he could have easily called Tate on his cell phone.

  Gemma had to get out of the room and out of the house. She jumped to her feet, sick to her stomach. “I’m going for a walk to the lake,” she told Peggy as calmly as she could when she passed her vacuuming downstairs. “Would you keep an eye on Nathan? He should sleep for another hour or so.”

  “Of course.”

  “Thanks. I just need some fresh air.” She needed to get the stink of Drake Fulton out of her mind.

  Gemma was still upset when she reached the sanctuary of the lake, where the cluster of trees and the gazebo hid her from view. She sank down on a small bench near the water’s edge. There was no way she could tell Tate about the call. He’d accuse her of somehow engineering this so she could talk to Drake. How she could have achieved that she didn’t know, but Tate was blind where she was concerned and totally biased about his best friend.

  God, she couldn’t even confide how ill at ease Drake had made her, or Tate would say she was imagining things or, worse, trying to stir up more trouble. Hadn’t she once attempted to tell him how Drake had made her uncomfortable? He hadn’t been prepared to listen then and she was sure he wouldn’t now. Otherwise he’d already know that this was the way Drake worked, pretending to be friendly in front of others, pretending to be Tate’s best friend, while trying to get her into bed.

  No doubt if she’d fallen for Drake’s charms and slept with him two years ago he’d have dumped her as quickly as Tate had. He hadn’t liked that she’d ignored his advances then, and she could tell he still didn’t like it. How far would he go now that she was married to Tate and had a child? She suspected he wouldn’t stop at less than destroying what she and Tate had. Suddenly her tenuous hold on her marriage was everything to her. She didn’t want to lose it.

  Right then, a horse and rider came over the rise and Gemma groaned, wishing she’d gone somewhere else. Wasn’t there anywhere she could have some privacy in this place? The last thing she wanted right now was company.

  Rolly saw her and waved, then brought the horse in her direction. “I didn’t think I’d see you here this morning,” he said as he got closer.

  She rose to her feet and mustered up a smile. “It was too nice to stay inside.”

  “I’m later than usual. I had to do a job for my dad.” He slid down to the ground and smoothed his hand along the horse’s flank as he spoke to her. “Where’s your son?”

  “He’s back at the house, but Tate will be bringing him down to see the swans soon.”

  “Does he like the swans?” he said, looking a bit preoccupied as he dropped the reins and let the horse amble over to the water’s edge.

  “Yes, he does.” There was a momentary lull. “Rolly, is something the matter?”

  Indecision crossed his face, then, “My dad wants me to go visit my mother.”

  She should have known it would be a family problem. There didn’t seem to be any other kind right now.

  She felt sorry for the teenager. He’d been nice to her, and helping him would certainly stop her from thinking about her own problems. “You don’t want to visit her?”

  He shrugged. “She married someone else, but I don’t like him much.”

  “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t want me there. He just wants my mom.”

  Gemma totally understood not being wanted, and her heart squeezed for him. “I wish I could tell you it shouldn’t be like that, but sometimes no matter how much we wish for something, it still doesn’t happen.” She didn’t want him to feel too down about it all, though. “But I have absolutely no doubt you’ll get through it.”

  A spark of hope brightened his eyes. “Really?”

  “Really. And think about how happy it will make your mother if you visit her,” she said. It would be wonderful if her own mother would be as happy, but Gemma knew that wasn’t about to happen.

  The teenager gazed at her speculatively. “You know a lot about life and things, don’t you?”

  “No more than anyone else.”

  Suddenly, he looked at the top of her head. “Hey, you’ve got something in your hair.” He took a couple of steps forward and reached to pick it off. “It’s only a gum leaf. I get them in my hair all—”

  “Gemma,” Tate’s voice snapped behind them.

  Gemma spun around at the same time as Rolly did. “Tate!” she exclaimed, feeling her cheeks instantly flush with a heat she had no control over.

  A guilty flush, Tate decided, unable to believe this was happening again. Peggy had told him she’d gone for a walk down here, but this was more than that. This was a rendezvous.

  No wonder she’d put Nathan to bed. Was no man—no boy—safe from his wife? Did she need male attention all the time, no matter what the age of the cohort? Their marriage wasn’t a bed of roses right now, but couldn’t she at least remain faithful while they were still on their honeymoon?

  Clearly not.

  “Er…where’s Nathan?”
she asked, as if she was trying to smooth things over. “I thought you were bringing him down here to see the swans.”

  Tate knew that was an outright lie, but he leashed his immediate reaction. What was between him and Gemma stayed between him and Gemma. “He’s still sleeping.”

  “Hi, Tate,” Rolly said, a slight flush to his cheeks that told Tate more than he wanted to know. “Long time, no see.”

  Tate gave a short nod in acknowledgment. “Rolly.”

  The teenager looked at Gemma then nervously back at Tate. “I was just letting the horse drink from the lake. Your grandfather told me I could.”

  “I know.”

  “So…you don’t mind if I continue that?”

  “No, I don’t mind.” The kid was pretending he was nervous over bringing the horse here, when they both knew that was just an excuse.

  “Great. Thanks.” Rolly picked up the reins and scampered up on the horse. “I’d better be getting back or my dad will come looking for me.” He glanced at Gemma and gave a quick smile. “Thanks, Gemma.”

  It was just as well the teenager took off after that. Tate gritted his teeth. God, how could he have been so stupid as to let his guard down with her? Gemma was beautiful, but she wouldn’t turn him into a fool again.

  “Tate—”

  “I don’t want to hear it, Gemma.” He stepped forward and put his hand under her elbow, intending to walk her back to the house.

  She took a couple of steps with him, then pulled away. “You’re overreacting.”

  “Am I?” He didn’t think so. How could he forget what had happened with Drake?

  “Rolly was merely getting a leaf out of my hair.”

  He gave her a skeptical look. “Is that what you call it these days?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said dismissively, sending his blood pressure soaring.

  His jaw clenched tight. “How long has this been going on?”

  “Nothing’s going on,” she snapped, but she had turned pale. “I met Rolly by accident the other day when I brought Nathan down here. This is only the second time I’ve run into him.”

  “Why did he thank you then? What did he thank you for?”

  She shrugged. “He’s got some personal problems. I was helping him sort them out.”

  “Yeah, I could see that.” Tate let his voice drip with sarcasm.

  She drew herself up taller, looking haughty and so darn beautiful. “Don’t you dare suggest anything else, Tate Chandler. He’s a boy who needed to talk and that’s all.”

  Was she blind? “He’s only ten years younger than you. He’s a young man with a young man’s hormones, and having you close by would be torture for him.” Dammit, she was torturing him.

  “And that’s got to appeal to me, does it? A pimply teenager with raging hormones is just what I’ve been waiting for. Gosh, all my Christmases have come at once. I don’t know how I’ve contained my excitement all this time.”

  He grimaced. Okay, so she had a point. Perhaps he could admit his reaction had been over the top. But seeing the young man touch her hair—he’d felt as if he was losing her again, as crazy as that sounded. Last time, he’d decided it had been for good, but this time he knew it would be forever. Not even for Nathan’s sake would he go through that again. Hell, if she had any affairs in the future—and God help her if she did—then it would be for Nathan’s sake they would split up.

  He didn’t want it to get that far. “Just stay away from Rolly.”

  She crossed her arms over her firm breasts. “You know what? I don’t have to do a thing you tell me to do.”

  For some reason the image of her breasts took precedence. And suddenly Rolly wasn’t the problem. “You never did do anything I told you to do. But you’re my wife now, so perhaps you’d best learn.”

  “Then perhaps you should act like I’m your wife.”

  The comment threw him. “What does that mean?”

  “You figure it out.”

  Was she suggesting what he thought she was suggesting? “If you’re feeling lonely, find another outlet. Don’t go turning to someone else.”

  “Well, it’s no use turning to you, is it, Tate?”

  Something burst inside him.

  He slipped his hand under her hair and drew her hard against his body. She gasped as he held her head still, his lips seeking and finding hers, taking advantage of her open mouth and sliding his tongue straight in and over the top of hers, instinctively wanting to dominate her. Hell, he wanted to erase the kiss of another man—any man—right out of her mouth.

  Then she came alive and seized control. Suddenly she was the one calling the shots, and he was the one being taken over. She made him remember what their kisses had been like—real kisses, no-holds-barred kisses—as she arched against him and sent the blood storming through his veins, his muscles locking into place, his body tightening with need against her softness.

  A buzzing sound interrupted his consciousness.

  For a moment he didn’t realize what it was, but soon the sound of a small, low-flying plane could be heard coming closer. Breaking off the kiss, he shielded Gemma and moved her a few feet to the side of the gazebo and out of sight. He wouldn’t let anyone see them. This was private property.

  The plane didn’t appear to be scouring the area. It was heading in a direct line north, so it was unlikely to be reporters. He waited until it was past the house before looking at her.

  For a long moment, he was riveted by her and what had just passed between them. Had he really ever been convinced he wouldn’t let himself be tempted by her charms? Heaven help him, but his body still thrummed with need as he noted the color high in her cheeks and her softly swollen lips. Her eyes were uncertain now, calling to something inside him. Thankfully sanity prevailed. Giving in would be a mistake. Just like she had made a mistake when she’d kissed his best friend, he reminded himself.

  “I won’t be a substitute, dammit,” he said, dragging up the thought of her and Drake together to get him through this moment. He had to. He had to protect himself from his own desires.

  She drew in a sharp breath. “Tate—”

  “You’d better go back to the house.”

  “But—”

  “Just go.”

  She looked like she might say something further, but she merely glared at him before hurrying along the path.

  Tate ran his fingers through his hair, damn grateful she had gone. The memory of her and Drake kissing might be in his mind, but it was a different memory beating through his body right now. He had to take her to his bed or learn to live with the wanting.

  Neither option was acceptable.

  Gemma’s mind was reeling as she straightened her blouse and hurried back to the house. How could Tate think he was a substitute for any man? No one else had ever come close to him.

  And while he had carried on about Rolly, it had been a storm in a teacup. The real issue was Drake. Even when she and Tate had good moments between them, it always came back to the other man. Drake had been the cause of their breakup. Drake was the reason for her walk today, which had resulted in that kiss just now. And coming full circle, Drake was the cause of Tate’s contempt for her.

  Yet in spite of Drake, there was still something between her and Tate that wouldn’t be denied. She was horrified with herself for challenging him to kiss her like she had. She didn’t know where the words had come from, but she should have remembered that he always faced a challenge.

  Lord, as much as she’d wanted Tate to kiss her, she wished he hadn’t. It only made her more aware of what she couldn’t have and of what she shouldn’t be wanting. Now every time she was with Tate, and even when she wasn’t, there would be this consciousness between them.

  Already she ached to be back in his arms.

  She didn’t expect him to come to her room a short time later and tell her they were going back to the city tomorrow.

  “Won’t that cause suspicion?” she asked with a frown.

  “
It’s only a day early. I don’t think it’ll matter.” A pulse began beating in his cheekbone. “And we ignore what happened before, right?”

  “For how long, Tate?” she heard herself ask.

  “For as long as it takes.”

  “To do what? To convince yourself I’m worthy of your touch?”

  “A bit of honesty wouldn’t go amiss.”

  “So if I tell you I kissed Drake on purpose then you’ll forgive me and we’ll be able to move on?”

  His eyes flared with triumph. “I’m not making any promises, but I’ll try.”

  Her heart gave a painful twist. “How noble of you. Sorry, but I’m not telling a lie just so you can feel better about something that’s simply not true.”

  He expelled a raspy breath. “Nothing was ever simple between us, Gemma.”

  She wasn’t getting through to him. So there was nothing left to do but to salvage her pride. “Actually, I thought that’s all we ever had between us—simple lust.”

  His mouth tightened. “It was…until you wanted Drake.”

  He left the room and Gemma sank down on the bed, a sob catching in her throat. It was like talking to a brick wall. What could she do now but keep right on doing what she was already doing, knowing she had done nothing wrong in the first place.

  It was the only way to make this marriage work.

  Six

  Late the next morning, Peggy and Clive left the mansion an hour before them and drove back to Melbourne in their own car. By the time Tate and Gemma arrived, a light lunch had already been prepared.

  Nathan had slept nearly the whole way, so now he was a ball of energy and very fidgety as Gemma helped him eat his lunch. He was going to keep her on her toes for the rest of the day, she knew, and perhaps that wasn’t a bad thing. Without a doubt, Tate would head to his study and throw himself into his work, or even go into his office in the city. It would be business as usual for him from now on.

  The job.

  Play with his son.

  Ignore her.