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Back The Marriage Trap: A completely addictive psychological thriller Save as PDF
Chapters (60)
  1. Cover
  2. Books by Sheryl Browne
  3. Dedication
  4. KARLA
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-One
  26. Twenty-Two
  27. Twenty-Three
  28. Twenty-Four
  29. Twenty-Five
  30. Twenty-Six
  31. Twenty-Seven
  32. Twenty-Eight
  33. Twenty-Nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-One
  36. Thirty-Two
  37. Thirty-Three
  38. Thirty-Four
  39. Thirty-Five
  40. Thirty-Six
  41. Thirty-Seven
  42. Thirty-Eight
  43. Thirty-Nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-One
  46. Forty-Two
  47. Forty-Three
  48. Forty-Four
  49. Forty-Five
  50. Forty-Six
  51. Forty-Seven
  52. Forty-Eight
  53. Epilogue
  54. The Affair
  55. Hear more from Sheryl
  56. Books by Sheryl Browne
  57. A Letter from Sheryl
  58. The Babysitter
  59. The Second Wife
  60. Acknowledgements

It must be a good twenty minutes later when I feel Jason’s arm slide around my waist, pulling me away from my slow dance with the toy boy and forcefully to him. I’d glanced across to him once or twice, but my father had joined him the last time I looked and the two were deep in conversation, so I’d decided to stay where I was. I’m sure my father won’t break his promise not to say anything to Jason about our conversation, but still, seeing them together, I’d felt nervous butterflies take off in my stomach.

‘I hope this is my dance?’ Jason says, close to my ear, as he moves around in front of me. With the band now crooning ‘Save the Last Dance for Me’, and my husband looking classically tall, dark and extremely handsome in his blue linen-mix jacket and cream chinos, it might have been terribly romantic, but for the thunderous expression I see in Jason’s eyes.

Two

JASON

Driving away from the golf club, finally, Jason blew out a sigh of relief.

‘Everything okay?’ Karla asked, her tone slightly wary.

Jason nodded, though he supposed it was obvious he wasn’t ‘okay’, since he’d more or less insisted they leave. He hadn’t been able to help himself. After being cornered by her father, again, and then watching the guy his wife was dancing with appreciating the view – his eyes had been all over her – Jason had fervently wished he’d made a work-related excuse not to go to Diana’s party. But it wouldn’t have gone down well with Karla. Her old man, though, might possibly have mustered up a smidgeon of respect for him, putting business before pleasure – as he himself always had, he was fond of saying, which was bullshit. Robert Fenton might bang on about business acumen and work ethic, but when it came right down to it, the man had no ethics. Jason had learned that as soon as he’d met him. The man had made it clear he didn’t consider him suitable husband material for his daughter from the outset. He’d wanted her to finish her acting degree at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art – validated by King’s College, London, no less – not throw her future away.

He’d wanted her to abort their child.

Jason still felt it now, the anger that had boiled up inside him twelve long years ago, when he’d overheard her ‘caring’ father trying to make her see sense. Fenton’s study window had been open. Arriving at the front door, Jason had heard every word.