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An Heir Made in the Marriage Bed by Anne Mather (17)

SURPRISINGLY, AFTER ALL the upset, Joanna slept soundly. The baby kicked a couple more times, but even he didn’t disturb her for long. She was exhausted after the journey. Not to mention the stress of the very real fear she’d suffered over last evening’s intruder.

The bedroom Teresa had prepared for her was cool and comfortable, and she’d fallen asleep as soon as her head touched the pillow. Of course, although she wouldn’t admit it, knowing that Matt was just down the hall made all the difference.

She woke fairly early the next morning. She went into the adjoining bathroom first and took a shower, and then, after finding a bottle of water on her bedside table, she took a welcome drink before opening the door onto her veranda.

As she stepped outside, the heat was the first thing she noticed. She’d wrapped one of the enormous bath towels around her, but the atmosphere soon brought a sheen of dampness to her skin. She wondered if Matt would allow her to go swimming. The idea of silky smooth water washing over her overheated body was very appealing.

She’d swim in the ocean, of course. Attractive though the pool at the villa might be, she’d insisted on her independence.

But, after considering how she’d look in the only swimsuit she’d brought with her, she decided she’d save her dip for another day.

After another drink of the slightly warm water, she went back into her room, appreciating the coolness of conditioned air. She looked about her, admiring the stripped pine floor and silk-hung walls of the bedroom. As well as the large bed, there was a cosy sitting area with two armchairs and a circular table.

And no unwelcome visitors.

A rummage through the few garments she’d brought from the cottage turned up a pair of drawstring shorts. She frowned as she looked at them. Everything had to be elasticated or drawstring these days, she thought resignedly. It seemed such a long time since she’d been able to wear anything remotely attractive—or sexy.

It had certainly been a blow to her ego when Matt had pushed her away from him the night before. For a few moments, when he’d let her wrap her arms around him, she’d actually felt he cared about her. And he’d been so sweet when he’d put his hand on her stomach to feel the baby. But then he’d seemed to come to his senses with a vengeance.

Still, it was probably all to the good, she told herself firmly. Look where one reckless night in Miami had got her.

* * *

Matt strode down the path to where his boat was moored with a feeling of frustration. He hadn’t slept well after the uproar over the damn hutia, and, although he’d taken a cold shower, he couldn’t get the remembrance of Joanna’s warm body, pressed against his own, out of his mind.

It was the early hours before exhaustion had claimed him, and in consequence it was now after seven o’clock, much later than he usually took to the water.

Henry was back at the villa, with strict instructions to get the cottage in order so ‘Mrs Novak’ could return to it today.

Even so, after last night’s little fiasco, Matt had to concede that the distance between the two dwellings was much too short.

He’d never forget how he’d felt when he’d heard Joanna scream. At the very least, he’d expected to find some poisonous insect in the cottage, or, failing that, an intruder, intent on God knew what.

A lizard scuttled away as he reached the jetty, and he breathed deeply of the cool salt-laden air. He forced himself to relax. The whole expanse of Cable Bay awaited him. And out on the water, where colours shifted from pale green in the shallows to deep blue on the horizon, he’d be far away from any domestic problem Joanna might create.

A breeze blew across the surface, soft and inviting, and with it came a drift of a familiar perfume. It wasn’t night-scented jasmine, or oleander, or any of the many flowering shrubs that grew in such profusion all over the island. This perfume was sensual; individual. So who the hell had invaded his private beach?

Did he really have to guess?

And then he saw her.

Joanna was wading in the shallows at the edge of the beach beyond the jetty. She’d secured her hair on top of her head this morning, and several errant strands curled against her nape. She was wearing shorts and a loose-fitting shirt that looked suspiciously like one of his. And although her legs were long, judging by the depth of the water around her, he suspected the hems of her shorts were already wet.

She hadn’t seen him yet, but she must have noticed the dinghy, rocking at its mooring. The bow caused a sucking sound as it nudged the wooden jetty, the mast lines chiming on the swell. Matt knew that as soon as he started releasing the cleats and it moved out into the water, she couldn’t fail to hear him. He didn’t want to startle her, as much for his own peace of mind as hers, but what the hell else could he do?

Go back to the villa, he thought irritably. Before she realised he was there. He’d have to give up his morning sail for once. Either that or take the chance that she might think he was following her.

He scowled, preparing to turn away, but just at that moment Joanna looked back over her shoulder and saw him. Immediately, her face flushed with becoming colour, and, abandoning whatever she’d been doing, she waded back to the shore.

She was barefoot, he noticed, as she padded back to the jetty. And although her expression was pleasant enough, she would have passed him with just a brief, ‘Good morning’ if Matt hadn’t stepped into her path.

‘You don’t have to leave on my account,’ he said neutrally, and Joanna’s lips tilted for a moment before straightening again.

‘I’m going back for breakfast,’ she said, matching his casual tone. ‘Teresa wasn’t up when I left the villa. She’s probably wondering where I am.’

‘Haven’t you had anything to drink?’ Matt sounded scandalised. ‘Don’t you know you should never venture out in this heat without bringing a bottle of water with you?’

‘Actually I drank a bottle of water before I left the villa,’ she told him stiffly. ‘I’m not a complete fool. I know what dehydration is.’

Matt was regarding her doubtfully even so, and she had to admit her mouth was dry. She smoothed the shirt she was wearing over her bump with a certain amount of embarrassment. She’d found this shirt in one of the drawers in her room, and guessed it belonged to Matt. She hadn’t expected him to see her wearing it, but, now he had, she doubted he’d wear it again.

He looked so cool and relaxed in narrow-fitting shorts and a purple polo, his muscled forearms deeply tanned from the sun. His hair had been tousled by the breeze, and tumbled over his forehead, the evidence of the shower he’d taken glistening on the rich dark strands.

‘Anyway,’ she continued, ‘as you can see, I borrowed your shirt. I hope you don’t mind.’

‘And if I do, are you going to take it off?’ His words were provocative and he instantly regretted them. ‘Forget it,’ he said. ‘You can wear anything of mine you like.’

Which was also provocative, but his reaction to her unspoiled beauty was uncontrollable. What on earth had possessed him to bring her here?

‘Well...’ Joanna licked her lips now. ‘I’ll see it’s laundered and returned to you.’

He was sure she would. He was equally sure he’d never be able to wear the shirt again without seeing her in it. Was she wearing a bra? He didn’t think so. He could see the hard nipples pressed against the cloth.

Dear God!

‘Well, I’m sorry if you were worried about me,’ she added politely. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me...’

Matt’s lips tightened. ‘Worried about you?’ he exclaimed, realising suddenly that, as he’d suspected earlier, she had got entirely the wrong impression. ‘I wasn’t looking for you, if that’s what you think.’ He nodded towards the dinghy. ‘I intended to take my boat out, that was all.’

‘Oh.’

Matt expelled a harsh breath. ‘In any case, you should have told someone where you were going.’

‘Why?’ Joanna’s violet eyes widened. ‘Are you saying I can’t do anything here without you knowing about it?’

Matt blinked. ‘Forgive me, but you seemed glad to see me last night,’ he retorted, irritation causing his temper to spike. ‘Or would you have preferred to have got rid of the creature yourself?’

Joanna lifted her arms, the shirt slipping sensuously off one shoulder. ‘That’s different,’ she said defensively, but it was difficult for Matt to focus on her words.

As she’d lifted her arms, Matt had been treated to a glimpse of the dusky hollow visible below the lapels. He didn’t want to notice, but once again he couldn’t help himself. And another part of his body noticed, too.

He was pathetic, he told himself, as his shaft stirred instinctively at the glimpse of her breasts. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t seen them before. The way they’d looked that night in Miami was all too easy to remember.

Rocking back on the heels of his loafers, he managed a cynical smile. ‘Do I take it you’ll cope with any emergency from now on?’

Joanna wrapped her arms across her midriff and turned to stare out over the water. ‘Can we not do this?’ she asked, suddenly sounding weary. ‘I just don’t like being checked up on, that’s all. I had enough of that when—when—’

‘When Daddy was alive?’ suggested Matt drily.

‘No,’ declared Joanna at once, although her father had wanted to know where she was every minute they’d been together. ‘I don’t know what I was going to say. It’s not important. Like you said, it is very hot, and I’m going back to the villa right now.’

Matt hesitated. ‘Do you want me to come with you?’

Joanna cast a brief glance in his direction, her eyes wary. ‘I can manage on my own,’ she said stiffly. ‘Please, take your boat out. If indeed that was what you originally intended.’

She waited half apprehensively for his response, but if Matt was angry at her defiance, he didn’t reply.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Joanna had got used to living on Cable Cay.

The cottage had become her home and she was reasonably happy there. Henry—not Matt—had taken her into town a few days after her arrival to see a Dr Rodrigues, and he’d pronounced that all was well. Indeed, he’d complimented her on her good health, saying that if all pregnancies were like hers, he’d be out of a job.

Despite a certain tension between them, Matt had taken to calling round to see her every couple of days. He’d said it was to assure himself that she had everything she needed, but she couldn’t deny she looked forward to his visits.

In spite of their differences, they had been married for over four years before they’d split up and they knew one another well. Certain words, certain locations, inspired a similar reaction, and, although Matt would never have believed it, they spent a lot of time reminiscing about things that had made them both laugh.

The days when she didn’t see him became dull days indeed.

Although she kept in touch with David Bellamy and her mother via email—and worked on the website when David sent her details of some new exhibition he was putting on—what she enjoyed most was sitting on the veranda, sharing coffee and some of Rowena’s delicious muffins with Matt. Occasionally, he discussed his work, usually some article or other he was researching, and she offered him ideas of other articles he could write.

She doubted he found her appearance particularly appealing. She hated looking in mirrors these days, especially after she’d had a bath. It was so unfair, she thought gloomily, when it was impossible to avoid her naked body. Men got women pregnant, without any of the consequences, and then stood back and let nature take its course.

To her relief, there’d been no sign of her erstwhile mother-in-law. Matt didn’t mention his parents at all, except when she asked about his father. She had thought that Adrienne might arrive to check up on her, but she supposed it was just possible that Matt hadn’t told his mother she was here. Though that was hardly believable, in the circumstances. There was always the chance that they might arrive here unannounced.

Matt had also put a car at her disposal and she’d actually taken a couple of trips into the small town of Cable Cay on her own. The roads were fairly good, and she’d enjoyed the feeling of independence it had given her. Although she had to admit, she’d usually chosen a morning when Matt was unlikely to appear.

Although the town wasn’t very big, it was amazingly well equipped, catering to visitors and locals alike. There were small supermarkets and clothes shops, as well as the inevitable duty-free liquor stores. Joanna had spent a whole morning wandering around the open-air market.

An agency advertising deep-sea fishing and water sports had briefly attracted her attention on her second visit, mostly because the name over the door had read M.O. Novak. Matt had told her about the companies he had invested in, and she couldn’t deny a certain feeling of pride that he’d confided in her.

It was a far cry from the Novak Corporation, which, as Matt had told her, Sophie was running now. He seemed to have settled down to life in the Bahamas, and she had to admit it was a good life in many ways.

Joanna had also made friends with the two women Matt had employed to cook and clean for her. The older of the two, Rowena, lived in Cable Cay. The younger, Callie, was Henry and Teresa’s granddaughter, and she lived in the annexe that adjoined the villa with them.

Joanna hadn’t ventured down to the beach again in the early morning. Now that she knew Matt took his boat out most days, she hadn’t wanted to intrude again. Instead, she’d taken to having a stroll along the sands in the early evening. It was cooler then, and she didn’t mind being on her own.

She occasionally heard the SUV leave the villa after breakfast. Callie had told her that her grandfather did most of the shopping and that it was probably him going into town. Matt had converted one of the bedrooms at the villa into his office and that was where he spent much of the day, if he had articles to write; articles Joanna found herself looking for regularly in the local gazette.

One morning, about three weeks after she’d moved into the cottage, Joanna heard the SUV leave soon after eight o’clock. Which was earlier than usual. If Henry was going shopping, he usually left between nine and ten. Was it possible it was Matt who’d gone into town?

There was no way of finding out without going down to the jetty. If the dinghy wasn’t there, she’d know he was still around. He rarely took his boat out for longer than a couple of hours; not long enough for what she had in mind.

It was already hot, but Joanna was getting used to the climate. She’d acquired a golden tan and she was sure her hair was lighter now than when she’d arrived. As she spent most of her days outside, soaking up the sunshine, it wasn’t surprising. She rarely stayed indoors, even when she was doing her job.

Afternoons were when she used her father’s laptop. Sitting on the veranda, she sometimes marvelled at how easily she’d settled in. There were usually messages from David and her mother, asking how she was feeling. But these days she seldom wished that she were back in England.

Now, hearing the car depart, she decided to take the chance that it was Matt who had gone into town. The fact was, she’d wanted to go swimming ever since she’d arrived on the island, but she hadn’t wanted Matt to see her in her swimsuit. The island attracted slim blondes and brunettes in skimpy bikinis, and Joanna was aware that the comparison couldn’t have been more acute.

But the beach area was private and if Matt was away, she’d feel confident on her own. Well, she could cope with a few fish and maybe a pelican or two. The large birds tended to comb the beach in search of sand crabs or flotsam, but they were harmless enough and kept other predators at bay.

Joanna put on her swimsuit before she left the cottage.

It was navy blue with white piping around the hem of the briefs. It had a tank top to accommodate her swollen belly, and she added a multi-coloured wrap she’d bought when she was in Cable Cay. A canvas bag held water—she’d taken Matt’s advice and never left the cottage without it—sunglasses and a tube of sunscreen. She carried a towel over her shoulder, and managed to slip away without either of the other women seeing her.

The dinghy was still at its mooring, so she dropped the bag and her wrap on the beach near the roots of a palm tree and laid her towel on top. Then, not wasting any time, she walked down the sandy slope and into the water. It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t cold either, and she revelled in the feeling of freedom it gave her.

It was so good to wade out of her depth and feel the weight lifted from her. For the first time in months, she didn’t feel dragged down by the tiny human being growing inside. Striking out with a lazy breaststroke, she swam a little distance away from the shore. Then rolled onto her back and let the water carry her on.

It was heavenly. Even the sun didn’t feel so hot out here. Obviously, this was why Matt took his boat out early in the morning. To enjoy a cooler temperature before the heat set in.

Her eyes closed and she drifted on the tide, feeling totally at peace with herself and the world. How long was it since she’d been in the sea? Not since last year at Padsworth. She’d gone to spend a few days with her parents in early summer. And then, on her return, David had offered her the chance to become a partner in the gallery. He had also suggested that unless she and Matt were planning on getting back together, she should seriously think about getting a divorce.

Reminded of the divorce and of where she was now, Joanna opened her eyes. Turning over, she got her bearings, and then gave a little gasp of dismay. While she’d been daydreaming, the tide had carried her quite some distance from the shore. It had evidently been going out when she’d entered the water, and now she was going to have to swim the better part of half a mile back to the beach.

Panic flared in the pit of her stomach. She had never been a particularly strong swimmer. When she was a kid, a couple of lengths of the local swimming baths had been more than enough for her.

Treading water, she took a deep breath, calculating the distance in her mind. She could do this, she told herself. She would have to. She’d told no one where she was going, and if Matt was away, there was no one else to come to her rescue...

* * *

Matt was still asleep when he heard someone hammering on his bedroom door.

He’d had a pretty rotten night. He seldom slept well these days, and he’d sometimes wondered if it would have been easier to relax if he’d known Joanna was just down the hall.

It didn’t help that he was expecting visitors tomorrow. He hadn’t told Joanna because he’d known how she would react to the news. In consequence, he’d spent half the night downing a fifth of Jack Daniels, and the other half fighting nightmares, that had left him wide awake and sweating like a pig.

It was an effort to open his eyes when the hammering on his door started. He must have fallen asleep in the early hours and now he was heavy-eyed and not in the best of tempers either.

‘What the hell is going on?’ he demanded, springing out of bed.

Teresa gazed at him unhappily. ‘I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr Matt, but Mrs Novak has disappeared. When Callie brought her breakfast, she wasn’t in her room, and, although we’ve searched the grounds, we don’t know where she’s gone.’