Permission To Love. PENNY JORDAN

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СКАЧАТЬ no attempt to respond with the bitter mockery she had come to expect. ‘Transatlantic flight does have that effect.’ He ran a hand through his hair. ‘Where the devil’s Mrs James?’

      ‘She’s left you a note,’ Lindsay told him. ‘Apparently her sister’s ill and she’s needed to nurse her.’

      ‘Hell!’ Lucas swore explosively. ‘I’ve got an American client coming over at the end of the week for a business meeting. I had intended to put him up here. We desperately need to secure a contract with him …’

      ‘Is the business in difficulties then?’ Lindsay was instantly worried.

      ‘Not to any extent that will jeopardise your inheritance, if that’s what’s worrying you.’ Lucas gave her a sour smile. ‘It’s just that last year we invested in some pretty expensive re-equipping that will pay off in the long run, but which has left us short of working capital for the present. We’re still making enough profit to provide a skimming of butter on our bread, but the American contract would guarantee the jam … Worried that I might abscond with your inheritance Lindsay and that your blue-blooded suitor might reject you?’

      He sounded so bitter that Lindsay was puzzled. Lucas knew the terms of her father’s will as well as she did herself, but surely he knew her better than to believe she would marry simply to get her hands on her inheritance? The money did not matter in the slightest to her; no, what concerned her was her own sense of loyalty and duty to her father’s wishes—old-fashioned perhaps, but then that was how she had been brought up, and yes, it hurt that Lucas should not know without her having to say it in so many words, why she was committing herself to marriage with Jeremy.

      ‘No, Lucas,’ she told him levelly at last. ‘I obviously have more faith and trust in your sense of honour than you do in mine. I’ll pack my things and leave,’ she added, getting up off the bed and reaching for her case.

      ‘No.’ His denial was forceful and sharp. ‘It’s too late for you to set off back to town at this time of evening,’ he told her when she looked at him. ‘You might as well stay now you’re here.’ He rubbed long fingers over the dark stubble on his jaw. ‘I’d better go and grab a shower and a shave. I was on my way to do so when I heard the shower running in here. I thought for a moment that someone had broken in.’

      ‘And having done so was taking a shower?’ Lindsay’s eyebrows rose, her irrepressible sense of fun bringing a smile to her lips, but Lucas didn’t respond with a smile of his own. Instead his eyes changed from charcoal to black, smouldering darkly into her own before he turned on his heel and left her room.

      CHAPTER THREE

      FOR a long time after Lucas had gone, Lindsay simply stood, staring out of her bedroom window. Gwendolin and Lucas were divorced; it seemed almost impossible to believe. Almost as impossible as believing that Gwen had been the one to stray … to take a lover … no, lovers, if Lucas was to be believed. But why? She had never liked the older woman, but she had recognised her fiercely intense desire for Lucas.

      Frowning slightly Lindsay withdrew from the window, suddenly becoming aware of the chilly breeze and the thinness of her robe. As she walked towards the wardrobe, the mirror on the dressing table threw back her reflection and she grimaced faintly. The thin robe clung silkily to her skin, outlining the full curves of her breasts, following the indentation of her waist and then the narrow out-thrust of her hips. Disturbed by her own inner awareness of her sexuality she dressed hurriedly. Lucas had not proved overreceptive to the news of her engagement; in fact he had been almost brutal in his mockery of it. Her chin tilted proudly. Yes, it was true in some respects that without her father’s money Jeremy would not want to marry her, but that was not something she did not already know. What did Lucas want her to do? she wondered wrathfully. Fall in love with someone totally unsuitable just so that he could have the pleasure of pointing out her folly to her and reminding her of her father’s wishes?

      Of course it was only natural that Lucas should be bitter and angry at Gwendolin’s desertion, but why take it out on her? She would have plenty of opportunity to talk to him over dinner, she reminded herself, wishing again that Jeremy had been able to accompany her. If Lucas could see and talk to Jeremy himself he would realise the rightness of her decision. Perhaps there was no excitement or deeply intense emotion in her relationship with Jeremy, but there was liking and mutual respect that would build a good life together. Sexual chemistry was all very well in its way, but Lindsay wasn’t sure if she would trust such volatile emotions. Startlingly, for the first time it struck her that the reason she might never have experienced intense physical desire was because she had deliberately programmed herself against doing so. She could remember quite vividly the feeling of self disgust and shame she had experienced when Gwendolin had accused her of wanting Lucas as a man and not as a brother. Her seventeen year old self had been shocked by the older woman’s vitriolic claim and had instantly denied it, but she could not deny that Lucas was an extremely attractive man. Even just now, despite his bitter anger, she had sensed the magnetic pull of his personality; the heady, breathless sensation of no longer being quite in control of herself or her reactions.

      She was here to inform Lucas of her impending engagement, not to daydream about the past, she reminded herself severely, opening her wardrobe and surveying the clothes she had brought with her. She had come prepared for all contingencies, knowing Gwendolin’s love of entertaining, but it seemed hardly appropriate to wear an evening dress simply to dine with Lucas. She frowned over a tweed skirt and toning silk shirt, dismissing them as not dressy enough and eventually decided on the soft lilac Jean Muir dress she had owned for several seasons and which remained a firm favourite, the excellence of the fabric and its cut ensuring that it was suitable for a whole host of occasions.

      The colour suited her, emphasising the delicacy of her pale English complexion, the long lean line of the dress with its swing of pleats from the hip, comfortable and yet at the same time subtly feminine. Brushing her hair thoroughly she secured it in a loose chignon, on impulse putting in her ears the pearl and diamond studs which had been Lucas’ eighteenth birthday present to her. She wasn’t wearing Jeremy’s ring. He wanted to present it to her formally next weekend when they went to visit his parents but for some reason tonight she would have welcomed its presence on her finger. Why? Because she felt that wearing it might convince Lucas of the rightness of their engagement. She didn’t need his permission to marry she reminded herself … Jeremy was everything her father had wanted for her in a husband. Sighing faintly she sprayed her wrists lightly with perfume and then remembering the housekeeper’s absence, decided that if they were to eat dinner, she’d better go downstairs and see about preparing it.

      In the event there wasn’t a good deal of preparation necessary. The housekeeper had left everything ready in the fridge, and all Lindsay was required to do was to heat it up in the oven. She was a good cook who enjoyed exercising her skill. When she was married to Jeremy she felt sure she would have plenty of opportunity to do so. He would not want her to work; he had already told her that much and when, as was eventually planned, he took over the running of the estate from his father, she would have plenty to occupy her time. Until then she would be expected to occupy herself preparing clever little dinner parties for Jeremy’s friends and clients, shopping … gossiping … having children. It was the accepted mode of wifely behaviour amongst Jeremy’s set.

      It seemed silly when there was just the two of them for them to dine formally in the vastness of the dining room, so instead Lindsay placed cutlery and glasses on the much smaller table of the little breakfast room just off the kitchen. She had always liked this room which caught the early morning sun and although Gwen had completely altered the decor and furnishings, standing by the window observing the view she had observed so often as a child, brought back a stream of half-submerged memories.

      ‘Wondering how you can get your own way?’

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