‘What does home mean to you?’ Tess asked in a quiet, testing tone that struck another wrong note with Nick.
He swung her into a full embrace, one arm gathering her close as he lifted a hand to her face where the signs of inner tension were all too evident…her lovely blue eyes clouded, her gaze flickering from his, seeking evasion. He cupped her cheek to command her attention.
‘The old adage is true, Tess. Home is where the heart is. And my heart is here with you and Zack,’ he said, intently watching her response.
‘Right!’ She flashed a bright smile…all teeth, not reaching her eyes—and whirled out of his embrace, waving her arms at the dining-room suite which had been brought from his Woolloomooloo apartment. The table was glass, set on slabs of black marble and the black leather chairs from Italy were the latest modern style. ‘Then you won’t mind if I throw out this stark furniture and replace it with a lovely soft apple-green arrangement because my heart isn’t into black. I don’t want darkness. I don’t want…’
‘Apple-green sounds great!’ he quickly assured her, hearing an almost frantic note in her voice. ‘By all means, throw this furniture out. It was only meant as a stop-gap until we made other choices.’
Although the top end of the table where he stood was set for dinner, the far end was strewn with brochures and fabric samples, and Tess headed for them, snatching up some as she effectively put the whole length of the table between them.
‘I’d like you to take a look at these. But open the bottle of chardonnay first.’ She gestured to the ice-bucket—wine selected and ready for them. ‘We’re having a chicken-and-chorizo hot pot, cook tells me. She’ll probably be serving it any minute now. Might as well pour the wine.’
Something was very wrong, Nick decided.
Evasive tactics were being employed, both verbal and physical, and he could feel Tess’s emotional detachment from him. Barriers were being put up again. Nick didn’t know why but he knew where they could best be smashed.
He was not about to tolerate any barriers in the bedroom.
Tess sat at the dressing-table in the master bedroom, brushing her hair, trying to calm her inner agitation with the steady, repetitive action. She had her own furniture around her here, having brought it from her home in Randwick. It didn’t suit this house—this room—but at least it gave her the comfortable sense of familiarity.
She’d put on a wrap-around robe, a blue silk and lace negligee which was part of a lingerie set she’d bought for their honeymoon. It was designed to look alluring, but seduction was not on her agenda tonight. She’d felt too vulnerable for the uninhibited nakedness Nick had encouraged in their bedroom, though the robe was not so much to hide her nakedness but to take away the chill of it. It was mid-summer and the air-conditioning in the house was adapted to summer temperatures, yet goose-bumps kept shivering over her skin.
She wished she could feel the heat of desire building up in her, anticipating the intimacies to come in the bed Nick expected her to share with him tonight. For better or for worse, he was her husband, and as he’d said himself, great sex was the glue that made marriages stick and she desperately wanted their marriage to stick, regardless of why it had come about. He was her husband and she loved him so she should be able to respond to the sexual pleasure he was so good at giving.
Behind her the door to the en suite bathroom opened. She didn’t turn around or stop brushing. The mirror in front of her reflected the sheer physical beauty of the naked man who emerged from the bathroom—a man any woman would be delighted to mate with—although the dark predatory look he shot at Tess instantly paralysed her lungs and sent a weird flutter of fear through her heart.
She’d thought she knew Nick.
But did she really?
Had he used sex to blind her to questions she should have asked before marrying him? But there was still Zack to consider. For their son’s sake…
Although maybe her father was right and it was wrong to marry for the sake of a child. Wrong for her. Terribly, terribly wrong for her!
Her stomach contracted in waves of panic as Nick crossed the room to where she sat. Her chest felt as though it had steel bands around it, tightening with each step he took. She forgot to keep brushing her hair. Her mind spun with the torturous conflict of wanting this man, yet hating not being wanted for herself.
It was impossible to pretend nothing had changed.
It had changed where it counted most with Tess.
Nick was using her for financial gain.
He’d married her for financial gain.
There might be a million other reasons, as well, and all of them valid and meaningful, but Tess could not bring herself to ignore that one.
‘Let me,’ he said, taking the hairbrush from her motionless hand, a sensual little smile curving his sexy mouth, desire simmering in his eyes.
Let him, she told herself, hanging onto the safety of silence because maybe she could respond to his strong sexuality and be swept along by the flow of it. If she could just lose this wretched mental misery in physical sensation, drown it out…
‘I swear you have the most erotic hair I’ve ever seen or touched,’ Nick murmured, wielding the brush gently and following its bristles with his fingers.
Tess closed her eyes. Could she believe him? How much of what he said to her was true?
‘And it looks best against your beautiful, bare skin,’ he whispered, softly blowing the words into her ear while starting to slide the silk negligee from her shoulders.
There was no conscious decision to move. The reaction exploded from her so fast, Tess found herself on her feet, her whole body quivering as she wheeled to rebuff any further touch by Nick, the stool she’d been sitting on now standing between them, the back of her thighs pressed hard against the dressing-table, her hands clutching the edges of her robe throat-high, her eyes flaring fierce rejection.
Nick straightened up, emanating a flood of full male aggression that was not about to be turned away by anything. The muscles in his chest and arms became more sharply delineated with the tension of battle readiness. His face took on the ruthless cut of a warrior primed to beat any opposition and his eyes glittered with the determination to tear down anything that stood in the way of where he wanted to be.
‘Spit it out, Tess!’ he commanded, as though he’d sensed the build-up of the emotional mountain that was now separating them.
‘November the fifteenth,’ burst off her tongue.
‘What about it?’ was whipped back at her.