Living in Secret: Living In..., Book 3 Read online

  Either was a problem and either he didn’t want.

  At that point, his phone buzzed in his pocket. He reached down and pulled it out, glancing down at the screen. A text from Victoria of all people.

  Will you be going to the last fling party?

  A second passed where he wondered what on earth she was asking him then he remembered. Kahu was throwing a party here at the club. He hadn’t wanted a goodbye party, settling for a “last fling” party instead, which Connor had to admit, was far more appropriate for Kahu.

  It was promising to be a big one, for members only, prompting a flurry of membership applications Kahu had duly turned down. He’d hinted to Connor it was likely to be the kind of party Connor would find “uncomfortable”. Which meant something sexual no doubt.

  He’d still planned on going because Kahu was a friend and he’d been going to the Auckland Club pretty much since Kahu had taken ownership of it.

  Yes, he texted back.

  Okay. I’ll let Kahu know I won’t be there then.

  Connor stared down at the screen and her reply, feeling that anger turn over inside him once more. He’ll be disappointed if you don’t come, he texted back.

  You’ll be there. We agreed on distance.

  He cursed under his breath, texting back a quick response. It’s one night, Victoria. I’m sure we can manage one night.

  And he meant it. Kahu would be disappointed if either of them didn’t make it and hell, surely they could both handle a couple of hours for one of their closest friends?

  There was a long pause and he wondered if perhaps she wasn’t going to reply. Then at last his phone chimed a response.

  Okay. One night. We don’t have to talk to each other.

  No, damn straight they didn’t.

  His phone chimed again.

  I’m still waiting, Connor.

  He bared his teeth at the screen and typed out a quick response.

  See you at the party, Victoria.

  Then he turned his phone off.

  “What about this one?”

  Victoria looked up from the rack she was sorting through.

  Eleanor had her hand outstretched, holding up a dress that looked more like a scrap of red silk than it did an actual dress. It was an off-the-shoulder number, very short, and was the deep red, nearly black of the darkest, most expensive of red rose petals.

  Victoria wouldn’t wear it in a million years.

  “Seriously, Ell?”

  “Oh come on, it’s perfect.”

  “You wear it then.”

  “I’ve already got mine sorted out.” Eleanor cast another glance over it. “You can’t deny it’s sexy.”

  Victoria turned back to the rack of clothes she was examining. “I don’t do sexy. You know that. I’m not even sure if I’m going to go anyway.”

  She and Eleanor had spent most of the day looking for a dress for Victoria to wear to Kahu’s party, a futile mission as Victoria had kept pointing out to her friend since she probably wouldn’t go anyway. But Eleanor had been adamant. She was “fucking going to Kahu’s party”, and she was “going to wear a sexy fucking dress”.

  Victoria didn’t particularly want to do either but it looked like she wasn’t going to have a choice in the matter, at least not about attending the party. Kahu was a very old friend. She couldn’t not go to what was ostensibly his farewell party.

  Pity Connor was also going to be there.

  She set her jaw, ignoring the sudden burst of anger flowering inside her at the thought of him. He was being a grade A bastard about signing those papers and she still didn’t know why.

  It’s not over…

  Why on earth would he think that? When he’d made no effort to talk to her or see her, or even discuss their separation with her for over a year. It was as over as a marriage could be so why he thought any different, she didn’t understand. Not when he’d never given her even one sign that he wanted them to stay together.

  She jerked a hanger along the rail, looking sightlessly at the next dress on the rack. It was black. Plain. A high neckline and longer sleeves. Mid-calf length. Very conservative and pretty much exactly what she was looking for.

  “Oh fuck no,” Eleanor said from behind her. “You’re not trying that thing on. I forbid it.”

  Victoria let out a slow, silent breath. “It’s more me.”

  “Yes, it is. Elegant. Classy. Conservative. And there’s nothing wrong with that, believe me.”

  She turned and met her friend’s direct gray eyes. “I can hear the ‘there’s everything wrong with that’ in your voice, though.”

  Eleanor’s gaze was uncomfortably sharp. “Okay, I’ll be honest here. I’m worried about you, Vic. You’re working a lot and you’ve lost weight. And…” She stopped. “I don’t want you to go to London.”

  Victoria had told her friend a month or so ago about her plans and Eleanor had been unimpressed. In her usual direct way, she’d told her that leaving was not going to solve her problems. Which presupposed there were problems to solve and there weren’t.

  Only a long lost daughter who had turned up out of the blue and a husband who refused to sign the divorce papers.

  Jessica was not an issue—the letter Victoria had been sent had been short and to the point. A brief note to explain she was well, she was with a family who loved her and she loved them. That she wanted to reassure her mother she was okay. She hadn’t left any contact details, which indicated she didn’t want Victoria to return the contact and Victoria was okay with that. Her daughter was safe and well, and that was all that mattered.

  And as to the husband…

  “I know you don’t want me to go. But the job is a good one and—”

  “It’s not about the job. This is about Connor, isn’t it?”

  Victoria turned away, uncomfortable. She slid the black dress along the rail, looking at the next one along. She didn’t want to have this discussion. Didn’t want to tell her friend the truth about her marriage. Eleanor had had her own difficulties with her ex-husband, Piers. And though Eleanor had never given her the details, Victoria knew they were pretty serious ones. So she’d never shared her own about Connor, because suddenly falling in lust with your husband three years after you’d married him seemed a ridiculous thing to complain about.

  It would also mean exposing her initial reasons for the marriage and that too seemed like a step too far. She would have to fess up about Jessica and she wasn’t ready to tell the world about her daughter yet. Not when it had gone so spectacularly wrong after Connor had found out.

  “He won’t sign the papers,” Victoria said eventually. “And he’s had them a month now. I went to see him personally about them last week and he refused point blank. He wouldn’t even give me a reason.”

  “So? Make him then.”

  Victoria turned around. “I can’t make him, Ell.”

  Her friend was staring at her, blonde brows drawn together in a frown. “Of course you can. There must be something he wants that only you can give him. All you have to do is tell him he can’t have it unless he signs those papers.”

  There were many things Connor Blake might want. Unfortunately, despite being his wife of five years, she had no idea what they could be. Oh, there were the obvious things, like his passion for becoming a crown prosecutor. For making his firm, Blake and Associates, the leading private law firm in Auckland. Becoming a QC. All career-oriented things. But that was the extent of her knowledge of his desires and dreams. They’d never shared any others.

  At her silence, Eleanor’s frown deepened. “You can think of something he wants, right?”

  “Yes,” Victoria answered reflexively.

  “All right. And you should probably wear this dress when you talk to him because it’ll look damn hot on you.” Eleanor wrinkled her nose. “Actually, on second th
ought, maybe you’d better not wear it. He might never sign those papers if he sees what he’s giving up.”

  A kernel of guilt settled in her stomach. “It’s not his fault,” she said. “I’m the one who gave up the marriage.”

  She’d always been careful to make sure people knew that. Not giving them the whole truth about Jessica being the catalyst and certainly not revealing her real reasons for walking away from Connor, but citing the fact that they’d changed and both wanted different things. He’d never refuted her and for that she was glad. It was easier not to go into detail for either of them after all.

  “Yeah, but he didn’t exactly go after you, did he?” Eleanor pointed out.

  “He respected my choice. That’s what I wanted.”

  But her friend’s gaze was shrewd and far too perceptive. “Are you sure that’s what you wanted? I mean, yeah, choice is important. Actually, it’s vital. But sometimes, in certain situations, it’s nice to have it taken away from you too.”

  There was a look in Eleanor’s eyes Victoria found both fascinating and yet somehow threatening at the same time. Like her friend knew something she didn’t. “What do you mean?”

  Eleanor only gave her an enigmatic smile and thrust out the red dress. “At least try it on.”

  It wasn’t her kind of dress. It showed too much skin and that split promised bad things. But what the hell. She supposed trying it on wouldn’t hurt, and at least it would get Eleanor off her back.

  With a sigh, she took it into the fitting room and got rid of her suit. Then she pulled the dress up and stared at herself in the mirror.

  The dress was actually quite beautiful, the fabric petal-soft and light against her skin. But it clung to her hips and thighs in a way that was almost indecent, plus she was right about the split. It went all the way up to one hip meaning her underwear would be on show. The way it gathered on one shoulder would also require a strapless bra, which was annoying.

  She shifted uncomfortably.

  “I’m disappointed, Victoria. This is not what we brought you up to be. We expected better of you than this…”

  She blinked at the echoes of her father’s voice in her head. Why on earth was she thinking of him now? Especially those sad, disappointed words he’d thrown at her the morning he’d caught her sneaking back into the house after she’d been out all night. At the time his sad disappointment had hurt worse than anger because she’d always hated letting her parents down. Especially when they worked so hard to give her better opportunities and had so many plans for her.

  She’d only disobeyed them once, creeping out of her window to go to the school dance. They hadn’t wanted her to go or wear the short sexy dress she’d chosen because that’s what the other girls were going to be wearing. But she’d been sick of their rules and limitations. Sick of being suffocated by the need to be equal to their impossible standards. She’d only wanted a little fun.

  But there had been consequences to that fun. Consequences that had nearly ruined her life.

  Victoria met the gaze of the woman in the mirror. A tall woman, too thin. Wrapped in deep red silk. With a dark, fathomless gaze. Enigmatic, full of secrets.

  A stranger in a sexy dress that emphasized the curves she still had, breasts, hips and thighs. Sexual. Sensual…

  A shiver went through her.

  She’d always put herself under pressure to do things well. To be successful. To not make any mistakes. And all because of Jessica and what she’d had to give up.

  Because she had to make that sacrifice mean something.

  And if it was a chance at having the kind of successful life her parents had planned for her then that’s what she had to do. Otherwise she may as well have disobeyed them and kept her baby.

  You should have done that anyway.

  Ah, but there was no point in thinking that. She hadn’t kept her. Her parents had told her Jessica would have a better life with people who could afford to look after her properly. Who could give her all the opportunities and advantages Victoria wouldn’t be able to. And they were right. She wouldn’t have been able to give her daughter what she needed, which made giving her up for adoption the right thing to do.

  Victoria reached up behind herself to undo the zipper on the dress.

  “Are you ready?” Eleanor asked from outside the fitting room curtain.

  “No.” She began to tug down the zipper. The dress could go back on the rack. It really wasn’t her.

  There was a pause and suddenly the curtain was jerked back, Eleanor standing in the doorway, one hand on her hip. “Hmmm. I knew you were lying.”

  She could feel a flush creeping into her cheeks as her friend gave her the once over, unexpectedly and uncharacteristically self-conscious. “I can’t wear this. It’s not me.”

  “You keep saying that. And, yeah, maybe not.”

  Victoria blinked. “Well, I’m glad you—”

  “Connor will never sign the papers if you’re wearing that dress. He’ll also never want to let you out of his sight.”

  A jolt went through her, like an electric shock. The thought of Connor’s eyes on her, following the line of her figure, the spark she’d noticed at the Law Society drinks getting hotter and hotter…

  She turned sharply back to the mirror, breathless.

  You want to be a bad girl…just once more…

  Only to meet her friend’s perceptive, gray gaze reflected back.

  “Ah,” Eleanor said softly. “So it’s like that, is it? You do want him to see you like this.”

  Victoria put her hands on her hips, smoothing down the fabric, using the motion as an excuse to look away. “I couldn’t care less if he saw me or not.” But even to herself the statement sounded false.

  “Hey, Vic. It’s me,” Eleanor murmured. “What’s going on between you two?”

  “There’s nothing going on.”

  “I’m your friend. Don’t lie to me.”

  She didn’t want to explain, but it had kind of gotten past the point of no return. Damn her friend for knowing her so well.

  Giving the dress one last smooth, she said, “All right. Don’t get me wrong, I do want the divorce and I’m going to go through with it, but…” Finally she raised her head and turned, facing Eleanor directly. “I still…want him, Ell.”

  There was a brief silence.

  “Well, that’s annoying,” Eleanor said. “Seeing as how you’re separated and everything.”

  The understatement made Victoria smile reluctantly. “You could say that.”

  Slowly, the other woman came into the fitting room and made a spinning motion with her hand. “Turn around.”

  Victoria did so then felt Eleanor pulling at the zipper on the dress, tugging it back up again, closing the fabric back around her.

  “So,” her friend said after a brief pause. “Why not have him?”

  Oh, there were many reasons why not. Most of which she wasn’t going to talk about in a fitting room in a dress shop because they were too complicated. But there was one she could give Eleanor, a reason that didn’t need any complex explaining. “Because he doesn’t want me.”

  In the mirror she could see a skeptical look cross Eleanor’s face. “Are you sure?”

  The spark in his eyes as he’d looked at her. The thick, dense energy between them.

  But that couldn’t be what she thought it was, could it? He’d never wanted her, not really and not in that way. Because if he had, surely he would have stopped her when she walked out the door?

  “It’s not over, Victoria.”

  “Yes,” she said. “No. I don’t know.”

  Eleanor stepped back. “I think you should find out for certain.”

  “Why? What’s the point? I’m not changing my mind about the divorce.”

  “I wasn’t suggesting that.” Her friend’s smile was only ju
st a tad short of evil. “I think you should find out because then you might have something you can use to make him sign those divorce papers.”

  For a second, Victoria wasn’t quite sure what she meant. Then she realized. “You mean sex?”

  Eleanor look amused. “Of course I mean sex. What else did you think I meant?”

  She could feel her mouth start to get tight. God, she really didn’t want to talk about this either. Sex had always been a difficult subject ever since she’d been sixteen, after that night at the school dance where she’d been seduced by Simon Curtis in one of the dark halls near the girl’s bathrooms. She’d given in so easily, amazed by the power of the feeling that had gripped her, the intensity of the need, the ferocity of the pleasure. It had been like a whole new world opening up to her. So much so she hadn’t even realized he hadn’t stopped to put on a condom until after it was all over.

  It had shocked her that she, a good girl who knew all about safe sex, could be so blinded by the needs of her own body. And perhaps if there hadn’t been consequences, she wouldn’t have worried so much. But there had been consequences, devastating ones, and ever since then she simply hadn’t trusted herself enough when it came to men.

  She’d tended to stick with men with whom she had little chemistry, sex perfunctory and at least not actively unpleasant, keeping herself in control at all times.

  Which had made Connor so damn perfect. Until she’d seen him in the courtroom…

  “You’re looking prudish again,” Eleanor observed. “You should have been a Puritan, Vic. It would have suited you.”

  She looked away, back to the mirror where that woman stood, a siren in a slinky red dress. Definitely not a Puritan. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she said. “What if he says no?”

  Eleanor shrugged. “Then he says no and you have to think of something else. But…honestly. I don’t think he’s going to say no.”

  That’s not what you’re worried about. You’re worried about him saying yes.

  Another hot jolt went through her and in the mirror she saw a dusky blush rise to her cheeks. Because what if he did say yes? What if he did want her after all? And not just in that somewhat mechanical, detached way he had when they were in bed. But in a way that was hotter, more intense. Demanding. The way he was when he was in the courtroom, when he was trying to seduce the jury…