Sinful Truths. Anne Mather

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      ‘I invent them,’ he said flatly. ‘Among other things. Didn’t your mother tell you?’

      ‘No.’ There was a reluctant glimmer of interest in Emily’s eyes. ‘What games have you invented?’

      Jake frowned, pretending to think. ‘Let me see,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Have you heard of Moonraider? Space Spirals? Black Knights?’

      Emily’s jaw had dropped. ‘You invented Black Knights?’ she exclaimed incredulously. ‘I don’t believe it.’

      Jake shrugged. ‘You’ve played it, then?’

      ‘Yes. Yes.’ Emily glanced over her shoulder. ‘Mummy bought me a Dreambox for Christmas.’

      Jake pulled a wry face. ‘That was good of her.’

      ‘Why? Oh, God!’ Emily pressed both hands to her cheeks. ‘Did you invent Dreambox?’

      ‘I own Dreambox,’ Jake told her ruefully. ‘And I don’t think your mother would approve of you saying “Oh, God”, do you?’

      ‘Granny would report me to Father Joseph,’ agreed Emily, pulling a face. ‘I’d probably have to say a hundred Hail Marys for taking the Lord’s name in vain. But still—’ She stared at him admiringly. ‘You own Dreambox! Cool!’

      Jake was surprised at how flattered he was by her reaction. She was only a child, but the hero-worship in her eyes felt good. He was genuinely pleased that she approved of him. It made him want to go out and buy her every game he’d marketed to date.

      ‘You wouldn’t—like—play Black Knights with me?’ she suggested suddenly. ‘Just till Mummy gets back, I mean. It would give us something to do.’

      Jake hesitated. He had the feeling Isobel would not approve of this development. Okay, maybe she’d had some crazy idea that if she threw him and Emily together he might change his mind about her. But the arrangement had to be on her terms, not his.

      To hell with that!

      Looking at the girl’s expectant face, he made a gesture of acceptance. ‘Why not?’ he said, getting to his feet again. ‘Where’s your computer? In your room?’

      Some time later, when Jake’s cellphone began to ring, he was shocked to find it was nearly seven o’clock. He’d been so absorbed in the game, which he’d discovered Emily played extremely well, that he’d forgotten the time. Dodging witches and goblins, vaulting over chasms where dragons lurked, laughing at the obstacles someone’s vivid imagination had created, he’d realised how much fun it was to play with someone who genuinely wanted to beat him. Apart from his second-in-command at McCabe Tectonics, everyone else he employed seemed keener on winning his approval than winning the game.

      With a word of apology to the child, he strode back into the living room, where he’d left the phone, and glanced at the small screen with some misgivings. As he’d expected, it was Marcie’s number displayed there and she wasn’t pleased. ‘Where are you?’ she demanded. ‘I thought you were picking me up at seven o’clock.’

      ‘Seven-thirty,’ he amended, not knowing why he’d bothered making the distinction. Even if he left now, he wasn’t going to make it.

      ‘Okay, half-past seven,’ she conceded irritably. ‘So, are you on your way? I know you’re not at the house. I already tried there.’

      Right.

      Jake expelled a weary breath, and as he did so he heard the sound of Isobel’s key in the lock.

      Well, it had to be Isobel, he mused blackly, aware that she couldn’t have chosen a more awkward time to return. Here he was, trying to placate his girlfriend, with his wife as an unwilling audience.

       CHAPTER TWO

      EMILY came into the room at that moment, too. She must have heard Isobel, and she bounded eagerly across the living room to meet her.

      ‘Daddy and I have been playing computer games,’ she exclaimed, by way of a greeting, and Jake didn’t have time to cover the mouthpiece of his phone before Marcie latched on to the anomaly.

      ‘Daddy and I?’ she spat angrily. ‘What’s going on, Jake? I thought you said you weren’t the kid’s father.’

      ‘I’m not.’

      Jake balked before saying anything more with his wife regarding him from the hall doorway. Dammit, there was no easy way to do this. Whatever he said, he was going to offend somebody.

      ‘Jake.’ Isobel was civil enough, but he could see the strain in her face. ‘It was good of you to stay.’

      Yeah, right.

      Jake bit back the sardonic response, giving her a brief nod of acknowledgement as Marcie spoke again. ‘Is Isobel there?’ she demanded. ‘Jake—’

      ‘Look, I’ve got to go,’ he interrupted her, aware that he was building up trouble for himself later, but unable to do anything about it right now. ‘Take a cab to the hotel, will you? I’ll join you there as soon as I can.’

      ‘Jake—’

      ‘Just do it,’ he said tightly, and felt a momentary pang of remorse when she rang off without saying another word.

      Flipping his phone closed, he was aware that Isobel was still watching him. ‘I’m sorry if we’ve upset your dinner arrangements,’ she said stiffly. ‘I was as quick as I could be, but my mother isn’t well.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      It was a standard response and her lips twisted a little wryly at his words. ‘Yes—well, that’s not your problem.’ Her face softened as she looked at Emily. ‘I hope you’ve been a good girl.’

      Emily grimaced. ‘I’m not a baby, Mummy. Like I said before, Daddy and I have been playing Black Knights.’ Her face brightened. ‘He owns Dreambox. Did you know that?’

      Isobel’s lips thinned. ‘Yes. He’s very clever,’ she said drily, unbuttoning her navy overcoat and unwinding a silk scarf from around her neck. ‘Now, why don’t you go and make me some tea, Em? I think—’ She looked questioningly at Jake. ‘I think we have to talk.’

      Emily pulled a face. ‘Do I have to?’

      ‘Em!’

      ‘Oh, all right.’

      Emily flounced out of the room and Isobel finished taking off her coat. Underneath, she was wearing a cream silk shirt and a navy skirt that ended an inch or two above her knees, but Jake barely noticed. What disturbed him was how thin she had become; the bones of her shoulders were clearly evident beneath the thin fabric of her shirt.

      Yet she was still beautiful, he reflected unwillingly. The pale oval of her face was framed by ebony-dark hair, drawn back from a centre parting and secured in a loose chignon at her nape. Luminous blue eyes and high cheekbones only emphasised the generous width of her mouth, СКАЧАТЬ