Conditional Surrender Read online

  `Yes, please,' she agreed with fervent meaning.

  `Right,' he sounded amused, 'I'll be with you for lunch.' Kate put down the receiver slowly, a stray thought beginning to take root .. .

  `My goodness, Kate, how you've grown!' Terry's eyes twinkled over her ever-expanding figure.

  The correct word is bloomed,' she corrected him with an indignant sniff 'There's no need to remind me that I look like an elephant!'

  She caught up on the news from the home front over lunch, and she made Terry laugh when she described the ante-natal classes she was attending. She waited until he had sipped the last of his coffee before dropping her bombshell.

  `Are you very tired of driving today, Terry?' she asked with assumed casualness.

  His head tilted to one side, taking careful note of the nervous way she was crumbling a bread roll between her fingers. 'You want to go for a drive this afternoon?' he asked gravely.

  `I . . no. That is ... Yes, I . . . What I mean . . .' To his great

  consternation, and her total surprise, she buried her face in her hands and burst into tears. Once started, she could not stop, despite his comforting arm around her shoulders and the soothing words he was uttering.

  `Oh, love, you are in a mess, aren't you?'

  Kate raised a blotchy face for him to wipe away her tears. 'I want to go home, Terry,' she sobbed. 'I hate it here—it's lonely. And I want Greg. And—and just look at me!' He did, very comprehensively, but that only caused her to cry harder. She struggled to her feet to go on a search for tissues. 'He doesn't want me any more, does he? I need to know, Terry. And—and he hasn't been near me for weeks!' She gave a sigh of utter misery. 'I can't blame him.' Her face threatened to crumble again. 'Who wants to be married to an elephant?'

  `And a waddling elephant at that!' Terry agreed, deadpan. Fortunately it had the desired effect on Kate. A feeble giggle escaped her and her forlorn expression lightened a little. She hadn't realised until now just how very miserable she had been.

  `Go and pack your bags, princess, and we'll be off.' He grinned down at her. Kate studied her nails very carefully.

  `Actually, they're already packed.'

  `Then what are we waiting for?' He offered her his arm. `Your chariot awaits, ma'am.'

  `I thought you'd come in the lorry, Terry. Didn't you have a load to deliver?' asked Kate as she clambered into his car. Terry did not answer until he was safely buckled in. He frowned thoughtfully.

  `Yes. I'm delivering it now.'

  `You're delivering it?' Kate stopped trying to stretch the seat-belt while she assimilated his statement. 'You expected to take me home?'

  `Let's just say I was hoping to persuade you,' he answered quietly. 'Look, love, I really don't think that seat-belt will stretch any more. You'd better sit in the back seat.'

  She shot him a sharp glance. Fortunately, he allowed not a glimmer of amusement at her predicament to show. She heaved herself out of the car and carefully lowered herself into the back seat.

  `Pregnancy is so dignified, don't you think?' she muttered airily as he started the car. She waited until they were under way before asking the question burning in her mind. 'Did Greg ask you to come for me?' She waited with bated breath for his reply.

  `Greg isn't asking anyone for anything these days. And he certainly wouldn't thank me for interfering.'

  `Then why?'

  `Because you're both behaving like a pair of bloody idiots!' His voice rose angrily, all the more forceful because Kate was not used to seeing him as anything other than amiable. 'You're stuck here in your ivory tower missing Greg like the devil, and Greg—' he took a deep breath. 'I've come to know him pretty well since you did your disappearing trick. I like him, princess. He's a good bloke. Now, I don't know what came between you—I don't need to know. Whatever it is it can't possibly be enough to keep you apart. He needs you, Kate. And with a bloke like Greg, that's really saying something. He's been on a few trips with me and Callum, lately. Did he tell you?'

  `No,' Kate answered thoughtfully. 'To tell you the truth, I forgot all about the business. How's it going?'

  `We're on our way to our first million!' He grinned. `Seriously, we're doing better than I could have hoped, thanks to Greg. Though I must admit I was surprised when he asked Callum and me to train him for his HGV licence.'

  `Greg asked you?'

  `Hey, I didn't mind, love. That's what friends are for, eh?'

  So Greg had changed to the extent that he could now ask favours—first of her mother and now Terry, of all people. It was certainly food for thought, but there was too much at stake for her to be able to trust Terry's reading of the situation. She had to find out for herself. Wasn't that why she had chosen to confront Greg now—together with her enormous belly, swollen ankles, and the various other indignities associated with pregnancy, rather than wait until after the baby's birth, when she might, once more, be an acceptable bedmate?

  Terry cast her a glance through the medium of the mirror, taking careful note of her thoughtful features.

  `Why don't you take a nap, love? Must be exhausting carrying all that extra weight around! Besides,' a tongue went firmly into

  his cheek at her affronted glare, 'that way, you don't get a chance to change your mind!'

  And suddenly Kate did feel tired, tired of thinking, of analysing, of trying to determine her future with insufficient data. She closed her eyes against the passing scenery, not rousing from her deep sleep until the sound of raised voices pierced her mind.

  She looked up dazedly, wiping the sleep from her eyes, and wondering why they had stopped. Her heart seemed to leap into her throat as she surveyed her surroundings.

  She was home. Her home. The home she had seen and fallen in love with so many moons ago. But how different it looked now!

  The overgrown front garden and surrounding orchard had been cleared and restoration work started. The house itself now stood proud and dignified in its new setting, a fresh coat of cream paint bringing it to sparkling life. All the windows had been replaced, and the curtains—even from this distance, Kate recognised them as the ones she had chosen from the pattern books she had devoured before leaving Greg.

  The last she had seen of her designs, they were decorating the lounge carpet back at the apartment. But now—now they had been brought to life. She had not dared to ask Greg what he had done about the house, knowing she would not be able to bear the thought of it being demolished by someone who could not appreciate her precious white elephant.

  Then her attention was diverted by the sound of Greg's furious voice.

  `Just clear off, Terry—and keep your damned nose out of my affairs!'

  Kate stretched, and immediately wished she hadn't. A lower back pain had been niggling away at her for most of the day and was now increased by the strain of sitting in one position for so long. Greg must have caught her movement out of the corner of his eye, because he turned suddenly and marched with angry strides to wrench open the car door.

  `I'm sorry about this, Kate.' His voice was clipped—strained. He did not look directly at her, but Kate thirstily drank in every line of him. It was going to be all right—she knew that now. She

  had known the moment she saw the house.

  Greg was looking tanned and fit. He was dressed in old jeans and a sweatshirt dappled by blobs of blue paint—the shade, if she was not mistaken, that she had chosen for one of the guest bathrooms. Kate had to lean heavily on his arm as she struggled inelegantly out of the car. The fresh-looking apple-green tent dress she had changed into for the journey was sadly creased and crumpled, but her eyes and cheeks glowed now that she was, at last, reunited with the man she loved. The man she had never stopped loving. The man, she now knew, who loved her.

  `Terry had no right to subject you to this journey.' His grey eyes skimmed over her, then slid quickly to the ground.

  `It was my idea, Greg,' she told him softly. His head shot up, his eyes alight with an emotion she had not dared to dream o
f.

  `Why, Kate?' The words trembled from his lips, his whole stance rigid. Kate lifted her beautifully serene face to his, happiness breaking over her in waves.

  `I wanted to come home. I've missed you so much.' Her voice shook on the last words, and Greg's control snapped.

  `Oh, my love!' he breathed raggedly, gathering her as close as her bulging stomach would allow and raining kisses over her face and throat. Then he pulled back, his gaze moving restlessly over her every feature as if he could not believe she was finally here, where she belonged. In his arms.

  Neither of them noticed Terry start up his car and steal away, a broad grin splitting his handsome face.

  `I hate to sound prosaic, darling,' Kate pulled herself with great reluctance from Greg's tight hold, 'but if I don't get to a toilet soon . .

  He threw back his head and laughed out loud, a rich deep, vibrantly happy sound. As they reached the threshold of their new home, he suddenly swung her high up into his arms, grinning down at her surprised yelp.

  `I'm starting our marriage properly this time around!'

  Kate gasped in astonishment when she saw the magnificent hall. It was exactly as she had planned it—oak panelling and a russet carpet which should have clashed horribly, but the immense proportions of the hall absorbed it superbly.

  `Hey . . .' Greg tapped her on the shoulder. 'The toilet,

  remember? The door on the right. I'll make us some tea.'

  Kate joined him in the kitchen as he was pouring the tea. He looked more relaxed than she had ever seen him before—and she knew, in some way, she had been right in thinking his surroundings made a difference to his mood. Just as her impulsive decorating of their apartment bedroom had changed him subtly, their white elephant had wrought a miracle.

  The kitchen too matched her plans down to the gaily patterned roller blinds. Greg, ever the practical man, had thought to add a laundry room. It was only sparsely furnished as yet, a small picnic table and a couple of stools—and Kate knew Greg had been awaiting her return before choosing furniture.

  She sipped her tea gratefully, thirsty after the long journey, and stared out at the back garden, thoroughly transformed from the jungle she had first seen. Turf was stacked to one side ready to be laid, and all the borders were freshly dug. It would take years for the garden to become fully established, but the first mighty steps had been taken.

  `I might have known you'd mess up all my plans! You've done nothing less since I first met you.' Greg pulled her back against him and a sigh of pure happiness escaped her as strong fingers kneaded her aching spine.

  `I couldn't stand not knowing any more. I needed to know where to build my nest, and here you were building it for me.'

  `Everything was supposed to be finished by the time Junior made an appearance. That's why I haven't been to see you this past month . .

  Kate tilted her head to one side to rub her cheek against his hand.

  `You meant to bring me here after the baby's birth?' `Where else?' He stopped, suddenly unsure of himself. 'That is, if you . . .?'

  Flattering in its way as it was, Kate could not bear to see this strong proud man she loved humbled before her. She turned in his arms, pressing quieting fingers to his lips. Her face was radiant.

  `We're going to be so happy here, my darling.'

  A spasm of pain passed over Greg's softened features as he pressed a reverent kiss in the palm held to his lips.

  `Kate . . .' Her name was groaned on a sigh. 'Kate, I ...

  Her hand moved to caress his lean cheek, longing to see the return of that incongruous dimple.

  `Are the words so hard to say, Greg?'

  `I've never said them before,' he said with stark simplicity. She smiled a little tremulously, a lone stray tear trickling down her cheek to be captured by his lips.

  `I'm told—I'm told it comes easier with practice.'

  `Kate.' His head lowered, as if he could not bear to look at her as he uttered the magical words. 'I love you, Kate. I love you so much it's tearing me apart!'

  `Oh, Greg!' she whispered on a broken sob, the tears silently overflowing. `I've waited so long to hear those words!'

  `And you're going to make me wait even longer, is that it?' he questioned sharply, a tiny flicker of uncertainty clouding his eyes.

  `I love you, Greg.' She reached up to trail her fingers down his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his lips. She groaned at the sensation evoked as he captured the pad of her thumb between his teeth. It seemed a little shameless in her so very pregnant state. But it was also an inevitable outcome of being near this man she loved so completely. 'I never stopped loving you, Greg. Don't you understand how impossible that would be?'

  And their lips finally met in a lingeringly slumbrous kiss which conveyed more than words ever could.

  `Why did you make me wait, Greg? You did love me when I left, didn't you?' It was not a question. She had realised that fact on first sight of their home. 'There was no need to go to all this trouble when mere words would have convinced me. You've never lied to me . .

  `Haven't I?' He shook his head sadly. 'Kate, my darling Kate I've been lying to you—to myself, all the way through this damned charade!'

  He stepped back a pace, raising his fingers to bridge his nose, absently rubbing at the frown lines etched between his eyes.

  `Sit down, Kate.' He brought their tea over to the picnic table and Kate perched as best she could on one of the stools.

  `There were so many reasons why I let you go, Kate. They don't feel so valid now, but . . .' A faint smile touched his lips to

  offset the frown, though nothing could quench the warm glow Kate's unexpected arrival had brought to his eyes—eyes which never left his wife's face during his long-overdue narrative. He kept a firm hold of her hand throughout, and they both knew that soon, very soon, there would be no secrets left between them. 'You have to understand, love has never possessed the same connotations for me as it does for you . .

  And the story unfolded of a young Yorkshire miner and his beautiful but resentful wife—resentful because she had been forced into marriage by Greg's premature conception. Of how Ben, as proud as only a Yorkshire miner—that toughest of breeds—can be, forgave his wife's infidelities time and time again, worshipping her, even as she stamped his pride into the dust.

  `Can you imagine what it did to him? Going down the pit day after day wondering which of his colleagues had made it with his wife?'

  Kate longed to interrupt him, to tell him she did not need explanations, but she forced herself to remain quiet, knowing that Greg had kept this old bitterness locked inside him for far too long.

  `Every time she came back he forgave her—rewarded her, even. He was bringing in good money then, up until his accident. When he realised he was no good to her as a man any longer, he let her go.'

  Unaware of the slow tears trickling down her face, Kate squeezed his hand hard in silent support.

  `He cried that night—the night she left. I'd never seen him like that. He sobbed and sobbed—I couldn't reach him Damn it!' He slammed his cup down with a crash. 'What the hell does a ten-year-old kid know about broken hearts? He never recovered. He was still in love with her the day he died.' Eyes bleak with anguished memories caught at Kate's heart with painful intensity. Greg's voice dropped to a whisper.

  `I loved my father, Kate, but heaven help me, I despised him for that weakness which made him give up living. He was just an empty shell from then on.

  `I've never forgotten that night he sobbed in my arms. I swore I would never allow any woman that power over me—and that

  neither would I ever put anyone else in that position.'

  `Then that's why Marie . . . At our engagement party, she said how happy she was that you'd finally allowed someone like me to love you. I thought it strange at the time,' said Kate.

  `I guess she knows me better than I thought. I practically lived with her and Sam after Dad died . .

  `Your mother?' she prompted gently,
as she had once before. This time, though, was different.

  `She was quite happy with the arrangement, my love—and so was I. She'd never really been around long enough for me to miss her idea of motherhood.' And suddenly Greg laughed. 'I overheard her proposition Sam once, you know. He cut quite a figure in those days, and she was very beautiful—very exotic for those parts. He gave her the dressing-down of her life! I've loved that man ever since. Certainly there was no other man in the village able to resist her.'

  `Ah, but he was in love with his Marie . .

  He caught Kate's question before she could ask it. 'And why didn't I follow their example instead of my parents'?'

  He was thoughtful for a moment. 'I always knew there was as much of my mother's character in me as my father's. I loved him—but I could still stand back and be appalled at the way he allowed her to treat him. I never really knew her well enough to care one way or the other. Even with you I could be objective—at first. Right up until I kissed you. Once I knew how good you felt in my arms . . .' he ran a thumb over the lush curve of her lips, 'well, things got pretty confusing from then on.

  `You see, one thing was very clear to me from the start—I was totally the wrong sort of man for you. You were right about that—you said marriage to you meant sharing a life, remember?' Kate nodded. 'I didn't know how to share, Kate. Or even how to give. And I knew that you were close to falling in love with me . . . you're not very good at hiding your feelings, are you?' Kate could only ruefully agree with that judgement. 'It was a temptation, you know—it felt so good—but . .

  `You didn't want me to suffer the way your father did,' she finished for him.

  `I didn't do a very good job of protecting you, did I?'

  `Hush, Greg!' she applied firm fingers to his lips. 'It doesn't matter—not now.'

  But Greg was determined that all past ghosts in their relationship should be laid firmly to rest.