Читать онлайн книгу «Rachel′s Child» автора Jennifer Taylor
Rachel's Child
Jennifer Taylor
Her lie came back to haunt her…Ten years ago Rachel and Stephen had had an affair–and the result was little Jamie. For reasons of her own, Rachel had told Stephen that Jamie was someone else's child. But when Rachel finally admitted Stephen was the father, he wouldn't believe her. He was convinced Rachel was a conniving, scheming woman who would go to any lengths to get what she wanted–and she appeared to want Stephen. Perhaps it wasn't a case of what Rachel wanted at all, but what Jamie needed–a dad!Jennifer Taylor "is sure to touch each and every heart in a unique but fierce way."–Affaire de Coeur
“I know what it means to be in love, Stephen. (#u13e55398-4dc6-5575-83b3-fc541409d84d)About the Author (#u5ad55240-ab10-5d65-81e2-f48793899dc8)Title Page (#u30a2d9f8-0cf9-5136-a960-57dbe8a40724)Chapter One (#uf39e9e22-bec0-559e-8951-c048d71333eb)Chapter Two (#u2ee52617-50bf-5767-a9ba-9384bd233f32)Chapter Three (#ue2d4cb6f-8f3b-5fa5-968e-f8c41c3e574d)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“I know what it means to be in love, Stephen.
“I know how it feels to put someone else’s needs before your own, to make a decision you know you will regret, because it is the only one that will make the person you love happy.” Rachel continued, “I know what real love is, but do you? Answer me that!”
There was a nerve ticking along Stephen’s jaw and his lips were drawn into a tight line that spoke of restraint. “Oh, I know what love is, Rachel. I know what a fool it makes of a man. He sees, believes things that aren’t true.” He gave a contemptuous laugh. “I know that above all else, above the passion and the desire, love means fidelity and trust—and they are two things that you have no conception of and probably never will have.”
Jennifer Taylor was born in Liverpool, England, and still lives in the northwest, several miles outside the city. Books have always been a passion of hers, so it seemed natural to choose a career in librarianship—a wise decision, as the library was where she met her husband, Bill. Twenty years and two children later, they are still happily married, with the added bonus that she has discovered how challenging and enjoyable writing romance fiction can be!
Rachel’s Child
Jennifer Taylor
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
STEPHEN didn’t bother to tell anyone he was leaving. He simply took his private lift down to the ground floor. They would find out soon enough that he was gone—when the negotiations were over.
Frankly, he no longer cared what the outcome would be, whether or not by this evening he would still have control of the company he had built up with such ruthless determination over the past ten years. He had known last night when he’d heard the news he had been waiting for what he must do today.
The irony of the situation struck him as amusing. Ever since the take-over bid had first been made and he had decided not to fight it he had been looking for Rachel. The team of investigators he’d hired had had little success in tracking her down, and then last night Stephen had received a phone call.
He had been stunned to learn that Rachel was here in the town—yet in an odd way wasn’t it fitting? Rachel had gone out of his life just as everything was beginning; that she should come back now seemed somehow right. Now he intended to tie up some loose ends before he closed the book on this chapter in his life.
The wind was sharp as it blew across from the park. It lifted the dark brown hair back from his face, setting his harshly cut features in even sharper relief. Stephen caught a glimpse of himself in the glass door and smiled again with little pleasure.
Life and experience had etched themselves onto his face and filled his slate-grey eyes with cynicism. That was the legacy he would be left with when this was over. Oh, there would be money, of course—more than he would need in his lifetime—but nothing to make him regret the decision he had made. It seemed a bitter indictment of all he had achieved.
The roads were quiet, but Stephen took his time following a route which he hadn’t taken in years. His life had moved on from these narrow streets, the huge house set in countless acres now the proper setting for a man of his means, but as he drove he experienced a sense of time slipping away...
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he drew up outside the house. He felt overwhelmed by the sudden feeling that he could be making a mistake. What did he hope to achieve by this meeting? Rachel had made no attempt to seek him out, so was he a fool to rake up the past when it might be best to leave things as they were?
Stephen hesitated only for a moment before his resolve hardened. For the past ten years he had wanted answers, and now more than any other time seemed the perfect time to hear them.
He glanced along the street as he got out of the car and felt shock hit him hard in the stomach when he saw the woman walking towards him. She was muffled up in a thick coat, the hood drawn up over her head, but he would have recognised that long-legged stride anywhere...
‘Rachel.’
Her name slid so easily from his lips that it might have been days not years since he had seen her last. Stephen had thought he was prepared for this meeting, yet he wasn’t prepared at all as everything he had felt that long-ago lost summer came rushing back so swiftly, so fiercely...
‘Can we go to the park later, Mummy? Please?’
The child’s voice carried clearly along the street. Stephen started, realising for the first time that Rachel wasn’t alone, then seconds later registering what he had heard. His gaze fell to the child beside her and he experienced another cold jolt of shock.
The boy had to be Rachel’s son; the resemblance to her was startling as the child ran on ahead and came closer to him. It wasn’t just the boy’s pale gold hair or his small, even features, but the lift of his chin, which carried a familiar hint of determination, the way he looked Stephen straight in the eyes so unflinchingly as he stopped outside the house...
The shock Stephen had felt before was just a forerunner for what he felt then. He stared into the boy’s eyes and saw there something he had never dreamed he would see!
Suddenly, he felt anger start to burn inside him and melt away the years of uncertainty. Once the need to find out the truth had eaten into his soul. Now he knew what that truth was at last, although he didn’t have all the answers...but he would!
Stephen looked up, his eyes like ice as he watched Rachel stop to open her bag. Yes, he would have his answers—and something which by rights should have been his a long time ago!
Rachel took the keys out of her bag and sighed. The last thing she felt like doing was taking Jamie to the park, but she hated to refuse him the small treat. If only she didn’t feel so tired, but nursing Aunt Edith in the weeks before the elderly woman died had been exhausting.
Rachel hadn’t wanted to come back, but her conscience wouldn’t have allowed her to stay away after she had got her aunt’s letter, and in the event her fears about returning had proved groundless.
Now all that remained to be done was to pack what few things Aunt Edith had left to her and go home. Yet the thought of going back to her flat on a faceless estate in Birmingham wasn’t one Rachel relished. Being cooped up in a tower block wasn’t the best thing for a nine-year-old.
Jamie was waiting on the doorstep, staring at the expensive car parked by the kerb. Rachel glanced at it curiously as she slid her key into the lock. Her gaze moved on to the man leaning against the bonnet and she felt the shock run through her so fast that it stole her breath.
For a moment she couldn’t seem to move, her whole body clenched in a spasm of disbelief as she stared at him. The wind suddenly rose, whipping the hood off her head so that her long silver-blonde hair blew across her face, but Rachel just stood there, unmoving, and heard the man give a low laugh which held no trace of amusement.
‘Hello, Rachel. How are you? I hope you haven’t forgotten me. Stephen Hunter...remember?’ He looked at Jamie and his eyes were full of a hard, cold anger when they came back to her. ‘I’m sure you must.’
He knew! Rachel felt the words swell inside her, filling her with fear and stealing her ability to think rationally. All she knew was that she had to get away from the knowledge she saw in Stephen Hunter’s eyes!
Her breath came in tiny frightened spurts as she grasped Jamie’s hand to hurry him inside, but suddenly Stephen was there, big and dangerous-looking as he placed his arm across the door and barred her way.
‘No! You aren’t going anywhere. It’s time we talked, Rachel. In fact, I would say it’s way past time we did that, wouldn’t you?’
The taunting note in Stephen’s voice made Rachel feel sick because she had never heard it before. Unbidden, the memory of that summer flooded back, Stephen’s voice saying her name, so deep and resonant with emotion, as he told her that he loved her...
‘Mummy, you’re hurting me!’
Jamie shook her arm, his small face full of mounting fear. Rachel struggled to regain control as she released his hand and forced herself to smile. ‘Sorry, darling. I...I just wanted to get you inside out of the wind.’
‘I’m not cold. Can’t I play out for a bit before we go to the park?’
Stephen glanced down at the child and his expression softened. ‘Why don’t you go inside for now?’ He looked back at Rachel, and there was no trace of softness as he continued, ‘Mummy and I are...old friends. There are a lot of things we need to catch up on.’
Rachel heard the irony in Stephen’s voice. Her heart lurched but she was powerless to do anything with Jamie standing there. She looked down at her son, feeling love spilling through her as she saw the worry on his face. What was the point in worrying Jamie even more when she might be able to sort this out without the need to tell him who Stephen Hunter was?
‘Yes, go along in, Jamie. I won’t be long.’
Jamie gave them both a considering look then disappeared inside the house. Rachel took a long, slow breath before she turned to face Stephen. In the beginning she had imagined this scene so many times, at her blackest moments half wished that it would happen. But the years had passed and the likelihood of them ever meeting again had become remote—as remote as Stephen himself had become.
She had read about him in the papers, of course, followed his success and taken comfort from the fact that she had been proved right in doing what she had. The only thing she had ever wanted was Stephen’s happiness. Yet, looking at him now, Rachel suddenly wondered if by ensuring that she had paved the way to her own worst nightmare!
‘Why, Rachel? Answer me that. Why did you do it?’
Stephen’s voice was so low that she had to strain to hear it, but it wasn’t an indication of his feelings. Rachel could hear the fury in those deep tones, feel it emanating from him. She shivered convulsively and looked away, afraid that her fear would be all the confirmation he needed. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Stephen gave a harsh laugh, his fingers hurting as he turned her face back so that he could stare into her eyes. ‘Don’t lie! Damn you, Rachel, don’t you dare do that on top of everything else you’ve done! I only had to look at the boy to know the truth. He’s my son, isn’t he? Isn’t he?’
‘I... No...no! You’re wrong, Stephen.’ Rachel forced a laugh but it sounded empty of conviction even to her. ‘I don’t know where you got that idea from...’
‘The boy has my eyes, Rachel. I looked at him and saw the same reflection I see each day in the mirror. My eyes, your features...our child! Now all I want to know is why you didn’t tell me. Why for all these years you have kept my child, my son, a secret from me.’
Stephen’s fingers tightened on her chin, his eyes glittering wildly. Rachel felt a jolt of real fear. Stephen was almost out of control. Who knew what he was capable of right then, what he might be capable of later?
Stephen Hunter was a powerful man now, with a reputation of always getting what he wanted. What if he decided that he wanted Jamie? What if his anger turned into a desire to take back what she had held from him all these years? That she had done so only to ensure that Stephen might achieve the success he had wanted so desperately would mean nothing to him now.
Losing Jamie was a risk she wouldn’t take!
‘No! You’re wrong. Jamie isn’t...isn’t yours.’ Rachel swallowed hard, aching for the lie she must tell. ‘Jamie just has the Hunter eyes not...not your eyes, Stephen.’
Her voice was low but she felt Stephen tense. She winced from the pressure of his fingers yet he seemed not to notice. He stared back at her, his face set, his eyes so dark that they appeared almost black. ‘Meaning?’
‘Ja—Jamie is Robert’s son, not yours. We...we slept together while you were away in London that time. I never wanted you to know, Stephen. That’s why I left after Robert died and I discovered I was pregnant.’
Rachel stared back at him, willing herself not to betray the agony she felt as she denied everything she and Stephen had once been to each other. ‘Jamie isn’t your child but your cousin’s, and you...you have no claim on him.’
For a moment Stephen didn’t move, his fingers still gripping her chin, his eyes still staring into hers. Rachel could feel the ugliness of the lie spreading. She wanted to scream that it wasn’t true, that she had loved him to the exclusion of anyone else, but the words were held back by the fear of what she could be facing until in the end it was too late.
‘Damn you, Rachel! Damn you to hell!’
Stephen let her go, his eyes blazing down at her for one long moment before he turned and strode to his car.
‘Stephen!’ Rachel’s voice held a desperate plea, but if Stephen heard it he gave no sign. He got into the car and drove off without looking back, leaving Rachel as once she had left him—but her reasons for doing so then had been ones of love; Stephen’s now were born out of hatred.
‘Mum, what’s the matter? Why are you crying? What did that man say to upset you?’
Jamie touched her arm, shades of uncertainty in his voice. Rachel ran a hand over her face, unaware until that moment that she was crying. She glanced down at her son, her heart breaking as she recalled what she had seen just now in another pair of grey eyes...
‘Well, I don’t like him! I hope we never see him again.’
Rachel fought free of her own pain when she saw the mutinous pout of Jamie’s lower lip as he glared after the car. Suddenly she knew that she couldn’t let this happen. She might have denied Stephen his son, but she couldn’t live with herself if she allowed Jamie to hate his father.
‘I haven’t seen Stephen for a long time and I...I told him something he didn’t know which upset him. Stephen didn’t make my cry, Jamie. It’s just the wind making my eyes water. How about if we go straight to the park now? And when we get back we can make some toast by the fire for tea?’
Jamie’s face brightened. ‘Brill! Can I make it, Mummy? I’ll be really careful—promise.’
‘We’ll see.’ Rachel smiled shakily. Taking Jamie’s hand, she closed the front door and started back down the road. She paused when they reached the corner to look back, but the street was empty, Stephen gone. But the memory of their meeting was going to haunt her, she knew, like that lie she had told. That Stephen should have believed jt so readily was something else she was going to have to learn to live with.
If Stephen had ever really loved her then surely he should have known she could never betray him like that? ‘So there you are. Dammit, Stephen, you could have said that you were going out! The whole place has been in an uproar for the past hour since you couldn’t be found.’
Stephen turned from the window, his brows arching cynically. ‘I thought I gave you permission to negotiate the deal, David. Why did you need me there to hold your hand?’
Colour ran up the younger man’s face. ‘I know what you told me but it isn’t that simple. Rogerson refuses to deal with anyone but you.’ David laughed wryly. ‘Can’t say I blame him. It does seem hard to believe that The Shark has lost his bite!’
Stephen acknowledged the statement with a thin smile, well aware of the nickname he had acquired since some wit of a journalist had used it in one of the financial papers. He had been likened to a shark, eating up and spitting out anything which got in his path.
Maybe it had been true once, but recently he had lost his taste for the sharp end of business—which was why this take-over bid had arisen. Now, after what had just happened, Stephen was less inclined than ever to worry about what became of the damned company!
His hands clenched as he swung round to stare out of the window again. ‘Then it’s your job to convince him, David. That is what I pay you for and I shall continue to do so until Rogerson takes over. After that, well...’
Stephen shrugged indifferently, wishing that David would leave, knowing that he would have to tell him to go soon. He wanted to be by himself, to let what Rachel had told him sink in so that he could start to understand it!
‘You’re a fool, Stephen! God knows why you’re throwing away everything you’ve worked for. But I do know that you’re making a big mistake. The pity of it is that you will only realise that when it’s too late!’
It was a measure of how deeply David felt that he should speak that way, and it was that which curbed Stephen’s response. ‘Then I shall only have myself to blame. Maybe it’s hard for you to understand but I just don’t give a damn any longer. If it goes it goes; so be it. Now if that’s all...?’
‘Yes, it is! But if I were in your shoes I would be out there fighting. I wouldn’t let anyone take all this away. I would want to pass it on to my children, as something they could be proud of!’
David left, missing the expression which crossed Stephen’s face. Stephen stared out of the window, trying to control the flood of emotions he felt. It felt as though someone had ripped a hole in his chest, torn out what had once been his heart...
He had loved Rachel so much! Maybe it had been simply the intensity of youth which had heightened his feelings for her, the sweetness of first love, but nothing since had ever touched him so deeply, not even his marriage to Shelley. Shelley had been beautiful and cultured and had fit perfectly into the life he had built for himself—but had he ever loved her?
Stephen knew the answer to that without thinking about it, knew that was why Shelley had divorced him in the end. And all he had felt was a fleeting regret that he had failed, little else. Yet learning what Rachel had done all those years ago hurt so bitterly that he could hardly believe the pain and anger he felt.
He slammed his fist against the wall then turned and stared around the luxurious office. Everything he had achieved had been based on that long hot summer. He might have tried to blank thoughts of Rachel from his mind but she had never really left his spirit. He had striven to achieve his dreams because they were the dreams he had discussed with her, the ambitions he had spoken of only to Rachel.
Rachel had been like a shining beacon, her beauty and sweetness unmatched, their relationship something he had measured every succeeding one against—to their detriment. And it had all been a sham, a mockery. Everything he had done so far in his life had been done for the wrong reasons. He felt cheated!
Stephen glanced at his watch and his eyes narrowed. He might not be able to change the past but he could shape his future. He hadn’t known what he wanted for a long time. Now suddenly it was crystal-clear—fresh ambitions, a whole new set of dreams. And Rachel had played her part in it, just as she had played such a vital role before!
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS almost ten before Jamie finally settled for the night. Rachel had hoped that the distraction of making toast by the fire would take his mind off what had happened, but Jamie had refused to let the incident drop.
Rachel didn’t feel happy about the lies she had been forced to tell but they couldn’t be helped. Jamie knew little about his father, apart from the fact that Rachel had loved him very much. Now Jamie rarely mentioned him. Single-parent families were quite common where they lived, so Jamie found nothing strange about his situation—although that didn’t make it easier for Rachel.
She had lost her own parents in a tragic road accident in her teens and, although Aunt Edith had been kind, Rachel had missed them dreadfully, still valued the years they’d had together as a family. She hated the idea that Jamie would never have the security of two loving parents as she’d had. Had she done the right thing today in telling Stephen what she had?
Rachel sat down on the sofa, recalling their meeting. It had taken on a certain unreality now, yet she didn’t need to try hard to recall how Stephen had looked at her, his eyes so cold and condemning...
A shiver ran through and she got up abruptly to add more coal to the fire. Outside in the street a car door slammed, followed by the sound of footsteps crossing the pavement. Rachel held her breath, her heart racing, but then the door to the adjoining house banged and voices came clearly through the thin dividing wall.
Rachel gave a gasping little sob as she sat down again. What had she imagined? That Stephen had come to see her again? Stephen had believed her story. He had nothing to come for! Anything she and Stephen Hunter had once shared was well and truly dead. Her heart ached at the thought.
The sudden ringing of the doorbell made Rachel jump. She hurried to the window but there was only the car parked next door. Obviously her neighbours had visitors and probably wanted to borrow some milk or something. It was that sort of community, and after the impersonality of the big estate where she and Jamie lived, Rachel found it a pleasant change.
Rachel didn’t bother to slip on the chain before she opened the door, and she felt the smile die on her lips. For a moment she couldn’t find her voice, and then it came out as a husky croak which betrayed only too clearly the shock she felt.
‘What... what do you want?’
Stephen arched both brows, the cool smile doing little to soften his austerely handsome face. ‘I thought I should drop round again. I realised that there were a lot of things we never got around to talking about before.’
‘Th—there’s nothing we need to talk about! Now if you don’t mind...’
Rachel started to close the door, but she was no match for Stephen as he calmly pushed it open and stepped inside. He glanced round, dwarfing the small, shabby hall with his powerful frame. He was wearing a black cashmere coat over a dinner suit and the thick wool added to the impression of bulk, emphasised the solid width of his shoulders, the power of his body.
Rachel had a sudden vivid mental flash of Stephen as he had been all those years before—his lean frame dressed in jeans and shirt, his dark hair falling across his forehead—and then the picture faded as abruptly as it had come and there seemed to be little left of the boy in the elegant figure of the man. Yet when Stephen turned to look at her there was just something in the depths of his eyes which made her heart catch...
Rachel looked away, scared by the sudden rush of warmth along her veins. What she had felt once for this man was long gone. Love couldn’t survive such an absence. Oh, the memory of it was still there, a warm glow which lingered long after the fire had burned out. That summer had been both the best and the worst time in her life, but she was no longer the girl who had loved the young Stephen Hunter with such desperation!
‘You seem surprised to see me, Rachel.’
‘I am surprised! I thought we said everything that needed to be said before.’
‘Did you? How odd. I think there’s still a lot we need to talk about.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘Even more than I imagined when I first came here today! I’ve been looking for you for a while now, Rachel, but it was only last night that I heard you’d come back to town.’
‘Looking for me...?’ Rachel’s heart seemed to jolt to a halt. ‘I don’t understand. Wh—why would you do that after all this time?’
Stephen smiled thinly. ‘Why indeed? Just a whim, I suppose. I’d reached a point in my life when it seemed time to make some changes. I decided to tie up a few loose ends, find the answers to all the questions which have puzzled me—although I must confess I wasn’t expecting to find out what I did!’
Rachel felt the ready colour run up her face. ‘I cannot see any point in...in raking over the past!’
‘Oh, but I can. So why don’t we go inside and sit down and chat about it like two old friends should?’
Her heart ached at the irony she heard in his voice. ‘Are we friends, though, Stephen? I think not.’
‘Once we were a lot more than just friends, Rachel, or so I believed. Can you blame me for wanting to find out how I could have made such a mistake?’ He gave a softly taunting laugh which curled through the air between them. ‘So, Rachel, what’s it to be? Can you spare a cup of coffee and a few minutes? Or do you think that is more than what we shared all those years ago warrants?’
Rachel felt the sting of that mocking reference to their past. She had grieved at the thought of spoiling the memory of what they had been to each other once, but obviously it meant little to Stephen now!
‘Why not? A cup of coffee seems the least I can offer after all this time. Go on through to the sitting room and make yourself comfortable. It won’t take long.’
Rachel held the brittle smile until Stephen had turned and walked along the hall. She closed her eyes on a wave of pain, wishing she had told him to leave rather than prolong the agony when there was so little point. Nothing could change what had happened in the past; nothing would alter what had happened today.
She and Stephen Hunter were so far apart now that it would be impossible to bridge the chasm between them!
Why had he come back?
Stephen glanced around the room, making no attempt to sit down. He was too tense to sit, too on edge to wait calmly for Rachel to come back with coffee he didn’t want to drink and she didn’t want to offer.
Impatiently he strode to the window, but there was little to be seen apart from the long terraces of houses—nothing to take his mind off the reason why he was here...
He swore roughly. Just a few short hours ago he had told himself that he could handle what Rachel had told him once he had taken steps to set his life back on course. Yet as he’d sat in the auditorium tonight, pretending to follow the opera, he had realised that it wasn’t that simple.
He had left his companion at her flat with some excuse he couldn’t even remember now and driven over here, ready to make Rachel tell him the whole sordid tale from start to finish before he put it out of his mind for good. Now God alone knew just how much he was regretting the impulse! How could he forget how Rachel had betrayed him?
Stephen prowled restlessly, picking up an ornament from the shelf in the alcove, putting it down to reach for another. He stopped, his attention caught by a photograph in a cheap cardboard frame. Almost of its own volition, his hand went out to pick it up while the memories flowed through him like bitter-sweet wine and the years fell away...
‘Who is she?’
Robert opened one eye and followed the direction of his cousin’s gaze then sank back onto the sand with a heavy sigh. ‘Venus, Aphrodite—the embodiment of perfect womanhood...’
‘Thanks!’ Stephen gave Robert a friendly punch on the shoulder, his eyes following the girl as she walked along the beach. He hadn’t seen her before, he was certain; he would have remembered if he had! It wasn’t just that silver-gilt hair which flowed down her back, or the purity of her profile, it was the way she moved so gracefully, so regally...
Stephen pushed himself up from the sand, his grey eyes full of determination which made his cousin groan. ‘Uh-oh! I hope she’s read her horoscope and knows that a tall, dark, handsome...’ Robert paused. ‘No, let’s not get too carried away—that a tall, dark stranger is going to cross her path today. I wouldn’t like her to get too much of a shock.’
Stephen ignored the teasing banter. He and Robert were more like brothers than cousins. They were almost the same age, with Stephen just six months the senior, and had been inseparable since childhood. The fact that their fathers were twins had probably forged a closer bond than normal, although he and Robert looked little alike apart from both having the same slate-grey eyes.
‘I won’t be long, but...’
‘But don’t wait if you’re not back by sundown.’
Robert waved him off, closing his eyes again as he sank back onto the warm sand. Stephen grinned, wondering how anyone could happily live his life at such a slow pace. At nineteen years of age Stephen was burning with ambition. Getting a job—any job—seemed the sum total of his friends’ aspirations, but Stephen wanted so much more that there wasn’t a limit on what he intended to achieve...
Purposefully he closed the gap between himself and the girl, his long, powerful legs eating up the distance. The day was hot and he’d stripped down to old denim cut-offs. His skin was darkly tanned from working outdoors and his body was lean, fit, the wide shoulders and narrow hips drawing appreciative looks from a group of girls he passed, but Stephen didn’t even glance their way. His eyes were centred on the slender, elegant back of the blonde up ahead.
In contrast to most people on the beach, who were wearing as little as was decent, she was covered from throat to ankle by a floating dress of pale cream cotton. The breeze caught the delicate fabric as she walked so that the skirt moulded to the shape of her long, slender legs, the bodice clinging to the high curve of her small breasts in a way which was far more provocative than any scanty bikini.
Stephen felt desire stir inside him, hot and vibrant. He quickened his pace until he came level with her. She glanced round then looked away, her face faintly flushed as she carried on walking just a shade faster, but Stephen had no difficulty in keeping up with her.
They walked like that for several minutes, neither speaking, Stephen watching her with long sideways looks she couldn’t help but notice. Then suddenly she stopped, her brown eyes stormy as she turned to face him.
‘What do you want?’
She had a soft voice, sweet and musical, despite the annoyance which touched it. Stephen felt a small thrill of pleasure that it should so exactly match his expectations. He gave her a slow smile, his eyes glittering with an appreciation she’d have needed to be blind not to see.
‘You.’
For a moment she appeared dumbstruck, then suddenly laughed with genuine amusement. It surprised him because he’d half expected some frosty response, had almost been looking forward to overcoming any initial resistance she might show. But obviously she didn’t intend to play the game the way he had planned it.
‘Mmm, so what do you want me to say to that, I wonder?’ She chewed her lower lip, delicate white teeth showing against a soft red mouth which bore no trace of lipstick. She tilted her head to one side so that her hair swung over her shoulder, the fine strands glittering like spun gold in the sunlight.
Stephen felt his palms dampen. He looked away, afraid of what might be on his face right then, faintly shocked by his own reaction. He was popular with the girls—in the town and beyond—his dark good looks and confidence a potent combination he had long since learned to use to full advantage. Yet right at that moment he felt gauche and inexperienced. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
‘Well, come along, tell me. You’ve followed me all this way down the beach so you may as well.’
Sudden laughter touched Stephen’s mouth as his confidence surged back, but he knew enough not to grab too greedily at the small advantage. He merely raised both brows in an expression which was both quizzical and knowing.
‘How do you know how far I’ve followed you?’ His deep voice hummed with meaning. The girl gasped, her hand covering her mouth for a second before she let it fall to her side and laughed again, slightly ruefully this time.
‘Well, I did just happen to notice you...’
Stephen laughed at the admission as well, overwhelmed by a sense of well being. He looked back along the beach, deliberately measuring the distance to where Robert was lying. ‘Then all things considered maybe we should introduce ourselves. I’m Stephen Hunter.’
‘Rachel Harris.’ She held her hand out to him in a gesture which was unexpected and strangely touching.
Stephen took it, feeling the coolness of her flesh, the way her slender fingers barely filled his far larger palm. When she drew her hand away he felt a sense of loss which stunned him. He hastened to disguise it as Rachel started to speak.
‘Well, I really must go.’
She began to edge away and Stephen realised he was going to miss his chance if he didn’t get his act together. Yet, strangely, the last thing he wanted was to go through the routine he had used so often and so effectively in the past.
Impulsively he caught Rachel’s arm, then let her go when she glanced down with a cool hauteur which brought the colour to his face and a tightness to his voice.
‘How about letting me buy you a drink?’ He nodded towards the refreshment stand further along the beach. ‘A Coke sounds good to me on a day like today.’
‘I’m sorry, I really can’t. I have to go. Some other time, perhaps.’
She was already walking away before she had even finished speaking, the polite words more a dismissal than a real statement of regret. Stephen watched her striding along the beach, the sun in her hair, the breeze catching her dress, and knew there and then that he wanted to see her again. Frankly, he couldn’t recall ever wanting anything so much...!
‘Here we are. I’m sorry it’s only instant. Aunt Edith never drinks...drank anything else.’
Rachel came in with the tray, pausing when Stephen stared blankly at her before he put down whatever he had been holding. He turned to take off his overcoat and she wondered if she had imagined the expression on his face.
She set the tray down on the small table in front of the sofa and handed him a cup, spilling a little coffee into the saucer when Stephen’s fingers brushed hers as he took it from her.
‘Thank you.’
Stephen’s voice grated, resonant with something which made Rachel’s heart leap, perhaps a reflection of what she thought she had seen on his face just now. Yet when she chanced another look at him there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.
Rachel sipped her own coffee, feeling the hot sting of tears behind her lids. What a fool she was to look for something which had died a long time ago. Stephen felt nothing for her now, nothing at all!
She took a deep breath, disguising the pain beneath a veneer of politeness. ‘So, how have you been? Obviously life has treated you well, Stephen.’
Stephen settled back in the chair and crossed one long leg over the other, a cynical smile touching his mouth. ‘If you mean am I a rich man now, Rachel, then the answer is yes. I can honestly say that I have more money than I really know what to do with.’
His tone was mocking; it brought a sudden heat to her cheeks. Rachel set her cup down, her eyes blazing. ‘That wasn’t what I asked! Frankly, I don’t give a damn whether or not you’re rich as Croesus, Stephen. Life doesn’t revolve around money, and if you haven’t discovered that yet then pity help you!’
There was a moment’s silence before Stephen replied, his tone less abrasive. ‘I apologise. Let me answer your question the way you meant it to be answered, then. I have achieved all I set out to and probably more than I’d hoped, but it hasn’t been easy. There have been failures to set against the successes, including a marriage which ended in divorce.’
Rachel felt the shock ripple through her in small waves and looked down at her hands. ‘I...I didn’t know that you’d been married.’
‘Why should you? We went our separate ways many years ago, Rachel. Why should you know anything about what has happened to me since? And it’s obvious that I know very little about what has happened to you!’
Stephen raised his cup, noticing in surprise that his hand was trembling. He took a sip of the coffee then set the cup down on the table, not enjoying the fact that Rachel could still affect him in any way at all. ‘So, tell me, are you married?’
She shook her head, her pale hair shimmering as it caught the light from the old glass fitment overhead. ‘No, I’ve never been married.’
‘Why not?’ He shrugged lightly enough but his gaze was searching. ‘Surely you must know that the last thing Robert would have wanted was for you to waste your life grieving for him?’
God, how the lies grew and demanded more! Rachel’s hands tightened on the soft cord of her trousers, her fingers cold as ice. ‘Maybe I just never found anyone to...to match up to him.’
Stephen felt the pain of that statement like a physical blow. His voice was hard and uncompromising with the effort not to show how he felt. ‘I see. A touching tribute to my cousin, indeed. I must say, Rachel, that I never suspected how you and Robert felt at the time—although, thinking about it in the light of recent revelations, I suppose there were signs if I had taken the trouble to read them properly.’
‘What do you mean?’ Rachel stared at him in confusion.
He gave a soft laugh which made a shiver dance down her spine because it reminded her for a moment of how Stephen had used to laugh. But when she looked at him there was no hint of genuine amusement in his glittering eyes, little trace of the Stephen she had once loved so desperately.
‘Oh, small things which seemed insignificant at the time, like the way you and Robert used to laugh together over some magazine story or other.’ Stephen smiled narrowly, studying her with an almost clinical detachment. ‘You and he always did share the same off-beat sense of humour, didn’t you, Rachel, the same sense of the ridiculous? I used to be pleased that you and Robert got on so well. Only, apparently, it wasn’t quite so innocent as it seemed! However, I don’t blame Robert for what happened. He was undoubtedly as taken in as I was.
‘Still, that’s all water under the bridge, as they say, and I do think that you are making a mistake by clinging to the past. The boy needs a father, and I’m sure that Robert would have been the first to agree with that sentiment.’
Robert most probably would have! Dear, sweet Robert, who would have forgiven her these lies because he had understood only too well what Stephen was like and how much Rachel had loved him!
Rachel couldn’t believe that Stephen was actually saying these things, that he really could read more into the innocent friendship she and Robert had enjoyed than had been there. Yet wasn’t that just what she had wanted? She had wanted to convince Stephen that Jamie wasn’t his child, yet that very success left behind a bitterly unpalatable taste.
‘I’m sure you’re right, but unfortunately life isn’t quite that simple.’ Rachel gave a strained laugh, aching at the thought of how readily Stephen had dismissed all they had been to one another. ‘Few men are interested in taking on another man’s child, Stephen, so the offers haven’t exactly been pouring in over the years.’
‘But I’m sure there must have been some. You are a beautiful woman, Rachel. The boy would be just a minor handicap in most men’s eyes.’
‘I don’t want my son to be viewed as a “handicap”!’ Her eyes blazed back at him. ‘Not even if it means spending the rest of my life alone. I have made a life for Jamie and myself without help. I saw no need to...to sell myself for a meal ticket!’
Stephen’s smile was cynical. ‘That wasn’t what I was suggesting. However, it isn’t beyond the realms of possibility that you might meet someone and fall in love, is it?’ He paused deliberately, ‘That is if you really understand what love is, Rachel.’
Rachel knew that Stephen was alluding to the fact that she had told him that she loved him so many times and yet, apparently, had gone off with Robert! Her heart ached, but the anger she felt carried her through the pain.
Stephen should have known that she had loved him...him, no one else! The fact that he doubted her just proved what a sham their relationship had been.
Rachel got to her feet rather shakily but her voice was steady. ‘I know what it means to be in love, Stephen. I know how it feels to put someone else’s needs before your own, to make a decision you know you will regret because it is the only one which will make the person you love happy. I know what real love is, but do you? Answer me that!’
Stephen stood up too, big and intimidating as he faced her. There was a nerve ticking along his jaw and his lips were drawn into a tight line which spoke of restraint. But there was no heat in his anger when he answered. It was icily controlled, and far more hurtful because of that.
‘Oh, I know what love is, Rachel. I know what a fool it makes of a man so that he sees things in a woman which aren’t there, believes things which aren’t true because he is blind to the truth.’ He gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘I know that above all else, above the passion and the desire, love means fidelity and trust—and they are two things you have no conception of and probably never will have. So don’t stand there, Rachel, and lecture me on love, because you don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!’
Stephen picked up his overcoat and left, the sound of the front door slamming echoing like an accusation. Rachel stood where she was, her hands clenched at her sides, her whole body stiff with pain yet she couldn’t cry. Tears wouldn’t relieve this agony she felt. It went too deep and hurt too much. To know just how low she had sunk in Stephen’s estimation was almost more than she could bear.
CHAPTER THREE
‘I WISH we weren’t leaving, Mum. You said we could stay a few more days.’ Jamie picked up a sweater and rammed it into the case, his lower lip trembling. ‘I’ll miss the school trip.’
Rachel bit back a sharp retort, realising that it was unfair to take her feelings out on Jamie. All night long she had lain sleeplessly, going over what Stephen had said to her. She’d got up just before dawn and made coffee, then sat at the kitchen table with it growing cold as she had come to a decision.
She had to leave the town. Staying here now was out of the question. She couldn’t face the thought of seeing Stephen again. He hated her and she would have to live with that for the rest of her days.
‘I’m sorry, darling. I know it’s disappointing for you, but there will be other trips when you get back to your old school.’
‘Not like this one! I hate my old school, I hate that horrible flat and I hate that man—because he’s why we’re going!’
Tears rolled down Jamie’s face but Rachel remained stunned into immobility. ‘Wh—which man?’
‘You know who—that man who came here yesterday. He scared you and that’s why we’re going. I hate him, I hate him, I hate—!’
‘Stop it!’ Rachel gripped her son by his thin shoulders, her face ashen. ‘Stop that right now. I will not have you behaving like this, Jamie.’
She rarely spoke to the child so sharply, but then he had never thrown a tantrum like this before. She let Jamie go, feeling the tears burning her eyes. Their lives were falling apart, everything she had striven so hard to achieve crumbling around them. Yet she couldn’t explain to Jamie what was happening and why. He was far too young to cope with such a burden.
She took a steadying breath, her voice as level as she could make it. ‘We are leaving today because we have to. It has nothing to do with Stephen Hunter. Now, I want you to pack your things like I told you to and let’s have no more of this nonsense.’
Jamie scuffed the toe of his trainer against the rug. ‘I wish we could stay though, Mum.’
Rachel forced a smile, her heart aching at his downcast expression. ‘I know you do, darling, but we can’t. Quite apart from the fact that I don’t have a job here, we would have no place to live. Aunt Edith only rented this house and the landlord wants to let it to someone else as soon as he can.
‘So come along, let’s get a move on. If we hurry, we can catch the train before lunch. Then there will be time to see your friends when we get home and tell them everything you’ve been up to.’
Leaving Jamie to finish packing, Rachel hurried downstairs. Most of the furniture was too shabby to bother with, but there were some small items of Aunt Edith’s which she wanted to take with her.
She found a sturdy cardboard box then set about emptying the shelves in the sitting room of their ornaments. None of them were of any great value, but Aunt Edith had treasured them and Rachel couldn’t bring herself to throw them out.
She stowed them carefully into the box, then paused when she came to the photo. She had forgotten it was there—had almost forgotten about it being taken during her last year at the Academy. Now, as she took it off the shelf, she knew it was what Stephen had been looking at the night before.
How had he felt, seeing it again after all this time? Had it brought back memories of what they had shared? Or was that time so long ago now that Stephen couldn’t even remember how they had felt about one another that summer?
With a pang Rachel realised that she would never know the answer, and maybe it was better that she didn’t. She packed the photo then found some tape to seal the box and it felt almost as though she was sealing away her past.
Whatever happened now it was over between her and Stephen Hunter. Now there wasn’t even the sweetness of memory to bind them together...
‘I don’t know how you pulled it off, Stephen! What a coup!’
David couldn’t hide his admiration. Stephen smiled, but his eyes showed little genuine pleasure at what would go down as the deal of the century. The phones had been buzzing all morning but he had refused to take any calls, telling his secretary to inform everyone that he would be making a statement shortly. Once what he had achieved would have buoyed him up for months. Now it made little impression.
David appeared not to notice his lack of enthusiasm. ‘Did you have it planned from the outset? You did, didn’t you? My God, but you must have nerves of steel, Stephen. If you’d lost then the whole lot would have gone...’ David looked round the elegant office and swallowed. ‘But instead you allowed Rogerson’s to show their hand and ended up taking them over! I don’t know what to say.’
‘You seem to be managing quite well.’ Stephen heard the dry sting in his own voice and sighed. He got up from the desk and went to a cabinet hidden behind the pale grey ash panelling. He took out a bottle of malt whisky and poured some into a glass then offered it to David. ‘Join me in a toast?’
‘Thanks.’ David took it but his expression was puzzled. ‘I’ve never known you to drink at this time of the day.’
Stephen poured whisky into a second glass and swirled it around, his mouth twisting wryly. ‘There’s a first time for everything, so they say. So—a toast, then: to success; the only thing which matters in this life!’
He tipped the whisky down his throat but its fire did little to ease the coldness within. He set the glass down and went back to his desk, aware that David was watching him with an astonishment which made him feel instantly annoyed with himself. He didn’t want people speculating, wondering if there was anything wrong! But if David had any idea how he really felt...
Stephen picked up a file to study the figures on a projection sheet, but the numbers started to swim before his eyes as his mind raced back to what had happened yesterday, what had been said last night...
‘There’s nothing wrong is there, Stephen? We went through those figures a dozen times or more after you left.’
‘What?’ Stephen glanced up in confusion then shook his head. ‘No. I just wanted to double-check before we set everything in motion. Get on to Rogerson and tell him that I’ll be wanting to see him later today.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Around three, I imagine. Don’t take any bull either. Rogerson won’t be happy about this, but make sure he knows he’ll have a hell of a lot more to lose by not co-operating.’
‘Will do.’ David sounded relieved. ‘I’ll get on to it right away. Will you be in your office until then or what? Just in case we need you...’
‘I’ll leave word with Trish. Check with her. You’ll be able to get me on the mobile anyhow.’
Stephen looked down at the projection sheet again as David left, but the figures were still dancing around. With a sigh he got up and went back to the drinks cabinet, then stopped with his hand halfway towards the bottle. That wasn’t the way to clear his head.
He walked back across the room to his private bathroom and sluiced his face with cold water, then stood and stared at his reflection in the mirror on the wall above the basin. He had just pulled off a deal most men would have given their right arm for, even though he hadn’t planned on doing it when he’d got up yesterday. Yesterday he had been prepared to let the whole lot go, and yet he had ended up taking over the company which had attempted to buy him out!
Now the combined power of Hunter Electronics and Rogerson’s would make the new operation so big that none could match it. He was right at the top, higher than he had even dreamed of going, yet he felt neither pleasure nor any sense of achievement, just this empty ache...
Rachel could never have loved him; he saw that now, finally. All these years the memory of her love had stayed with him, but he had simply fooled himself into believing something which hadn’t been true. Rachel had loved Robert, borne Robert’s child, had stayed faithful all this time to his cousin’s memory...
God, how it hurt to discover that, but the truth had to be faced—as did the fact that there were certain obligations he needed to attend to. Yesterday he hadn’t been thinking clearly, had failed to see the implications of what he had found out.
Now Stephen realised it couldn’t end here. There were more loose ends to tie up than he had imagined. But after that was done Rachel was going out of his life for good!
It was raining when the taxi dropped them at the station. Rachel stacked their case and the box on the pavement then paid the fare. She added a very small tip, ignoring the driver’s obvious disgust as he roared away. She had just as much need of the money as he, and she couldn’t afford to be overly generous!
There seemed to be a lot of people milling around outside the main entrance. Rachel worked her way through the crowd, only to be brought to a halt by a uniformed station employee.
‘Sorry, miss, you can’t go in. Station’s closed.’
‘Closed? But we have a train to catch in fifteen minutes.’
The man shook his head, putting out a restraining hand as another passenger tried to walk past. ‘Sorry, sir. Like I was just telling this young lady, station’s closed. Been a derailment further down the line, there has, and until we’ve sorted it out all trains have been cancelled.’
As though to reinforce the seriousness of the situation, a cavalcade of emergency vehicles came roaring along the road with their sirens wailing. Within minutes the police were clearing the area and setting up yellow and black tape barriers to keep sightseers at bay.
Rachel hurried Jamie away, the weight of the case and the box dragging on her arms. She stopped to put them down, wondering what to do. The rain was beating down now and she didn’t relish the thought of standing around getting soaked until the trains were running again, but what choice did she have? She had handed over the keys to Aunt Edith’s house on their way here, so they couldn’t go back.
Jamie shivered, his small face pinched and wan as he stood dejectedly at her side. ‘I’m cold, Mummy.’
Rachel bent and gave him a quick hug, ‘I know, sweetheart. Maybe we can find a café and have a drink to warm us up?’
She straightened up and looked round, but the only café in sight already had a queue out of the door. Her gaze moved on over the traffic, which had been brought to a halt by the police, and she felt her heart lurch as her eyes locked with a pair of grey ones staring from the window of a big maroon Jaguar.
For a second Rachel stood stunned into immobility by the sight of Stephen, then she turned away, her heart thundering. Taking a firm grip on the suitcase and the box, she reached for Jamie’s hand. But at that moment the police sent a group of football supporters streaming noisily away from the station. Suddenly Rachel found herself caught up in the mêlée, saw to her horror Jamie being carried along with them.
‘Jamie... Jamie!’ she shouted, but within seconds the child had been swallowed up by the crowd. Dropping the case and the box, she tried to push her way through the people to get to him, but they resisted her efforts, a couple of the younger men deliberately barring her way.
‘What’s the hurry, darling? You don’t want to go rushing out of my life when we’ve only just met, do you?’
One of the men grabbed her around the waist and stared lustfully into her face while his friends laughed.
‘Let me go! Let...me...go!’ Rachel beat against the man’s chest with her clenched fists, panic eroding any caution.
The man’s smile faded, his face turning ugly. ‘Now that isn’t very nice. I don’t like people who don’t know how to take a joke...’
‘The joke’s over. Let her go.’
Stephen hadn’t raised his voice, but then he didn’t need to. Every word cut like a lash, making the younger man blanch. He let Rachel go at once, then elbowed his way into the crowd with his cronies following.
Rachel sucked in a terrified gasp but still felt breathless, her face bloodless. Stephen caught her arm, his fingers biting into her flesh through her wet raincoat.
‘Are you all right? Did he hurt you? Rachel?’
‘Jamie...!’ she managed to gasp, then saw that Stephen had no idea what she meant. ‘He...he’s caught up in that crowd! I can’t see him... I can’t see him, Stephen!’
‘I’ll get him. Stay there.’
Stephen didn’t hesitate as he pushed his way into the swell of bodies. He was a head taller than most, which was obviously an advantage. Suddenly he bent, and as Rachel watched he swung Jamie up in his arms.
He carried the child back, his powerful body forging a path through the crush of people. He set Jamie down beside Rachel then crouched down and looked sternly into the child’s frightened face.
‘You scared your mother half to death, young man. Make sure you hold onto her hand next time. Understand?’
Jamie nodded, too scared by what had happened to speak. He caught hold of Rachel’s hand and held it tightly, his eyes huge as he stared up at the man towering over him.
Rachel felt her legs go weak as reaction set in, and she swayed unsteadily. She heard Stephen utter something harsh as he slid his hand under her elbow. He retrieved her case and the box then led her to where he had left his car.
‘Get in. You look as though you’re likely to drop right where you’re standing.’
Rachel tried to pull back, but although Stephen’s grip didn’t hurt he held her firmly enough to make that impossible. ‘I’m fine. Really, Stephen, there’s no need to...’
He gave a short laugh which held scant amusement. ‘You don’t look fine. Now spare us both the indignity of a scene. Just get in, Rachel—because, believe me, I’m in no mood to persuade you politely that it is in your best interests and the best interests of the boy.’
It shouldn’t have hurt so much to hear Stephen speak like that but it did. ‘His name is Jamie! Is it so hard to remember who he is, Stephen?’
Stephen’s eyes shimmered with bitterness, and something which made Rachel want to weep. ‘No, it isn’t difficult. It’s only too easy to remember that.’
He opened the car door without another word. Rachel slid inside, watching numbly as Jamie got in the back. Just for a moment, as Stephen bent to help the child with his seat belt, their two heads were close together, one so dark and the other so fair. Then Stephen straightened, his face like stone as he slammed the door.
Rachel took a sobbing breath, feeling the anguish scoring deep inside her. What she had seen in Stephen’s eyes just now was everything she felt—all the pain, all the regret. Only it was worse for her because she knew just how different this situation might have been if she’d been able to tell him the truth! Yet how could she do that when she had no idea what the consequences might be?
If Stephen had been the boy she had fallen in love with ten years ago then she would have told him—here, now, this very second. But he wasn’t.
Stephen Hunter, the father of her child, was a stranger now. And it terrified her to imagine what Stephen might do if he ever found out that Jamie was his son!
‘Where are we going?’
It had taken some time to work their way out of the traffic. Rachel had sat silently, engrossed in her own painful thoughts, while Stephen negotiated the busy roads. Now they had left the town behind, she suddenly realised, and were heading for the open country.
Stephen barely spared her a glance as he increased the car’s speed until the hedges became just a green blur. ‘To my house. We’ll be there in a few minutes.’
‘Your house?’ Rachel could hear the shock in her voice. She glanced in panic through the window but the rain was still falling steadily, making it impossible to tell where they were. All she knew was that the last thing she wanted was to go to Stephen’s home!
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stephen. Please take us back into town. Jamie and I have a train to catch and...’
‘And a long wait ahead of you by the look of it.’ He smiled thinly, his hands steady and confident on the wheel, his eyes centred on the grey ribbon of road ahead. ‘It will be hours before the trains are running again. What exactly do you intend to do until then? Stand around getting soaked?’
He shot a quick glance in the mirror at the child sitting silently in the back and his mouth tightened. ‘I suggest you think about your son. He looks in no fit state to stand around in the rain.’
Rachel’s face flamed at the criticism, but when she turned to glance at Jamie she was forced to swallow the angry retort. The child didn’t look well, his face sickly white, his eyes almost black in contrast. Reaching out, Rachel laid her hand on Jamie’s forehead, shocked to feel how hot his skin was.
‘Aren’t you feeling well, darling?’ she asked softly.
Jamie shook his head. ‘I feel funny. Sort of hot—and my head hurts.’
‘Why didn’t you say so?’ Rachel frowned. ‘You should have told me you were feeling poorly.’
Jamie bit his lip and glanced pointedly at the man behind the wheel. ‘You said we had to leave. I thought you’d be cross.’
‘Oh, Jamie!’
Rachel sighed and squeezed Jamie’s hand. She turned back to face the road then flushed as she caught the look in Stephen’s eyes. Stephen knew why she had been so desperate to leave! She waited for him to pass some pithy comment, but surprisingly his tone was almost gentle as he spoke to Jamie.
‘When we get to my house I’ll have my housekeeper give you something to ease your headache. Just try to rest for now, there’s a good boy.’ Stephen glanced at Rachel and his voice hardened. ‘I imagine it’s the fright he had when you two got separated which has upset him.’
‘Perhaps. But I really don’t see any need for you to go to all this trouble, Stephen. You must have far more important things to do. If you would just take us back to the station, I’m sure the trains will be running shortly.’
‘I’m sure they will. However, it wasn’t just coincidence that I saw you this morning. I went to the station specifically to find you.’ Stephen must have seen her surprise because he smiled thinly. ‘A neighbour told me that was where you’d gone. She’d seen you leaving with your case and put two and two together.’
‘But why?’ Rachel cleared her throat, feeling her heart start to hammer in sudden nervous anticipation. ‘What did you want to see me about?’
Stephen glanced pointedly in the mirror. ‘Perhaps it would be better if we wait until later to discuss that, Rachel.’
Rachel knew he was right; with Jamie listening this was hardly the time to demand an explanation. Yet the more she thought about it the more uneasy she became. Stephen would never have gone to the trouble of following her to the station if he hadn’t considered it to be important that he speak to her. But what was it about?
‘Here we are.’
Stephen turned the car between tall stone pillars which marked the entrance to a long driveway. Rachel stared through the window, experiencing a sudden curiosity to see where he lived despite her initial reluctance to come. However, it was only as they rounded a bend in the driveway that she suddenly realised which house it was.
Rachel felt the colour drain from her face as they drew up. She heard Stephen cut the engine then open his door, but everything seemed to be happening from a distance as she sat there and stared at the house with disbelieving eyes.
She had been here only once before, many years ago, with Stephen, but she recognised the house immediately, despite the fact that there had been many dramatic changes made to it. Then the house had been little more than a ruin, having fallen into that state after the death of its elderly owner, a former prima ballerina.
She and Stephen had been out for a walk when they had come across the house by chance, and Rachel had been persuaded to climb the crumbling wall by much gentle teasing from Stephen. Hand in hand they had wandered the overgrown grounds, and then Stephen had found a window hanging open and they had gone inside the house.
The place had echoed with the sound of their footsteps, the dust and dirt lying thickly everywhere. Yet despite its condition there had been a beauty about the old house which even the grime and decay couldn’t detract from.
They had examined each of the rooms in turn, then made love in one of the empty bedrooms, the sunlight spilling through the dusty window falling on their two bodies as they lay entwined in each other’s arms. And afterwards, as Rachel had bent and kissed him, her eyes adoring, she had whispered, ‘If we ever have a house then this is the one I want, Stephen. This one...no other...’
‘Ready, Rachel?’
The sound of her own voice receded into the past. Rachel stared at Stephen, the shock still rippling through her body, the questions pounding inside her head. Why had Stephen bought this house when he could have had his pick? Had he...had he been influenced by the memory of what had happened here that day?
Her brain spun as she tried to make sense of something which made so little, yet which filled her with a breathless kind of hope. Maybe, just maybe that was the answer...?
‘Are you coming in, Rachel, or do you intend to sit there all day?’
Stephen’s voice was full of impatience and nothing more. Rachel searched his face for one long moment as the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting, then slowly she got out of the car and walked past him, and the fragile bud of hope died a painful death.
Stephen watched her go, his hand tightening around the keys he held until they bit into his palm. He was glad of the pain. Slowly he eased his grip, felt the tension which had beset him seep away to leave him oddly deflated.
What had he hoped for in bringing Rachel here?
He could tell himself that he’d had little choice, that they could hardly discuss what needed to be discussed in the street—especially in the state Rachel had been in before—that taking Rachel back to the office would have aroused the kind of speculation he preferred to avoid! All that made sense enough but it wasn’t the truth, not the whole truth, Stephen knew.
Had he chosen to bring Rachel to this house today so that she would recall what had happened here all those years ago? And if she remembered, what then? Exactly what had he been hoping for?
Stephen slammed the car door, his mouth twisting with self-mockery as he shot another look at Rachel’s rigid back, at the child standing by her side. What he and Rachel had shared was long past; the boy was all the proof he needed of that. Frankly, that was the only thing either of them needed to remember!
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/jennifer-taylor/rachel-s-child/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
Jennifer Taylor
Her lie came back to haunt her…Ten years ago Rachel and Stephen had had an affair–and the result was little Jamie. For reasons of her own, Rachel had told Stephen that Jamie was someone else's child. But when Rachel finally admitted Stephen was the father, he wouldn't believe her. He was convinced Rachel was a conniving, scheming woman who would go to any lengths to get what she wanted–and she appeared to want Stephen. Perhaps it wasn't a case of what Rachel wanted at all, but what Jamie needed–a dad!Jennifer Taylor "is sure to touch each and every heart in a unique but fierce way."–Affaire de Coeur
“I know what it means to be in love, Stephen. (#u13e55398-4dc6-5575-83b3-fc541409d84d)About the Author (#u5ad55240-ab10-5d65-81e2-f48793899dc8)Title Page (#u30a2d9f8-0cf9-5136-a960-57dbe8a40724)Chapter One (#uf39e9e22-bec0-559e-8951-c048d71333eb)Chapter Two (#u2ee52617-50bf-5767-a9ba-9384bd233f32)Chapter Three (#ue2d4cb6f-8f3b-5fa5-968e-f8c41c3e574d)Chapter Four (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Five (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
“I know what it means to be in love, Stephen.
“I know how it feels to put someone else’s needs before your own, to make a decision you know you will regret, because it is the only one that will make the person you love happy.” Rachel continued, “I know what real love is, but do you? Answer me that!”
There was a nerve ticking along Stephen’s jaw and his lips were drawn into a tight line that spoke of restraint. “Oh, I know what love is, Rachel. I know what a fool it makes of a man. He sees, believes things that aren’t true.” He gave a contemptuous laugh. “I know that above all else, above the passion and the desire, love means fidelity and trust—and they are two things that you have no conception of and probably never will have.”
Jennifer Taylor was born in Liverpool, England, and still lives in the northwest, several miles outside the city. Books have always been a passion of hers, so it seemed natural to choose a career in librarianship—a wise decision, as the library was where she met her husband, Bill. Twenty years and two children later, they are still happily married, with the added bonus that she has discovered how challenging and enjoyable writing romance fiction can be!
Rachel’s Child
Jennifer Taylor
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
STEPHEN didn’t bother to tell anyone he was leaving. He simply took his private lift down to the ground floor. They would find out soon enough that he was gone—when the negotiations were over.
Frankly, he no longer cared what the outcome would be, whether or not by this evening he would still have control of the company he had built up with such ruthless determination over the past ten years. He had known last night when he’d heard the news he had been waiting for what he must do today.
The irony of the situation struck him as amusing. Ever since the take-over bid had first been made and he had decided not to fight it he had been looking for Rachel. The team of investigators he’d hired had had little success in tracking her down, and then last night Stephen had received a phone call.
He had been stunned to learn that Rachel was here in the town—yet in an odd way wasn’t it fitting? Rachel had gone out of his life just as everything was beginning; that she should come back now seemed somehow right. Now he intended to tie up some loose ends before he closed the book on this chapter in his life.
The wind was sharp as it blew across from the park. It lifted the dark brown hair back from his face, setting his harshly cut features in even sharper relief. Stephen caught a glimpse of himself in the glass door and smiled again with little pleasure.
Life and experience had etched themselves onto his face and filled his slate-grey eyes with cynicism. That was the legacy he would be left with when this was over. Oh, there would be money, of course—more than he would need in his lifetime—but nothing to make him regret the decision he had made. It seemed a bitter indictment of all he had achieved.
The roads were quiet, but Stephen took his time following a route which he hadn’t taken in years. His life had moved on from these narrow streets, the huge house set in countless acres now the proper setting for a man of his means, but as he drove he experienced a sense of time slipping away...
His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he drew up outside the house. He felt overwhelmed by the sudden feeling that he could be making a mistake. What did he hope to achieve by this meeting? Rachel had made no attempt to seek him out, so was he a fool to rake up the past when it might be best to leave things as they were?
Stephen hesitated only for a moment before his resolve hardened. For the past ten years he had wanted answers, and now more than any other time seemed the perfect time to hear them.
He glanced along the street as he got out of the car and felt shock hit him hard in the stomach when he saw the woman walking towards him. She was muffled up in a thick coat, the hood drawn up over her head, but he would have recognised that long-legged stride anywhere...
‘Rachel.’
Her name slid so easily from his lips that it might have been days not years since he had seen her last. Stephen had thought he was prepared for this meeting, yet he wasn’t prepared at all as everything he had felt that long-ago lost summer came rushing back so swiftly, so fiercely...
‘Can we go to the park later, Mummy? Please?’
The child’s voice carried clearly along the street. Stephen started, realising for the first time that Rachel wasn’t alone, then seconds later registering what he had heard. His gaze fell to the child beside her and he experienced another cold jolt of shock.
The boy had to be Rachel’s son; the resemblance to her was startling as the child ran on ahead and came closer to him. It wasn’t just the boy’s pale gold hair or his small, even features, but the lift of his chin, which carried a familiar hint of determination, the way he looked Stephen straight in the eyes so unflinchingly as he stopped outside the house...
The shock Stephen had felt before was just a forerunner for what he felt then. He stared into the boy’s eyes and saw there something he had never dreamed he would see!
Suddenly, he felt anger start to burn inside him and melt away the years of uncertainty. Once the need to find out the truth had eaten into his soul. Now he knew what that truth was at last, although he didn’t have all the answers...but he would!
Stephen looked up, his eyes like ice as he watched Rachel stop to open her bag. Yes, he would have his answers—and something which by rights should have been his a long time ago!
Rachel took the keys out of her bag and sighed. The last thing she felt like doing was taking Jamie to the park, but she hated to refuse him the small treat. If only she didn’t feel so tired, but nursing Aunt Edith in the weeks before the elderly woman died had been exhausting.
Rachel hadn’t wanted to come back, but her conscience wouldn’t have allowed her to stay away after she had got her aunt’s letter, and in the event her fears about returning had proved groundless.
Now all that remained to be done was to pack what few things Aunt Edith had left to her and go home. Yet the thought of going back to her flat on a faceless estate in Birmingham wasn’t one Rachel relished. Being cooped up in a tower block wasn’t the best thing for a nine-year-old.
Jamie was waiting on the doorstep, staring at the expensive car parked by the kerb. Rachel glanced at it curiously as she slid her key into the lock. Her gaze moved on to the man leaning against the bonnet and she felt the shock run through her so fast that it stole her breath.
For a moment she couldn’t seem to move, her whole body clenched in a spasm of disbelief as she stared at him. The wind suddenly rose, whipping the hood off her head so that her long silver-blonde hair blew across her face, but Rachel just stood there, unmoving, and heard the man give a low laugh which held no trace of amusement.
‘Hello, Rachel. How are you? I hope you haven’t forgotten me. Stephen Hunter...remember?’ He looked at Jamie and his eyes were full of a hard, cold anger when they came back to her. ‘I’m sure you must.’
He knew! Rachel felt the words swell inside her, filling her with fear and stealing her ability to think rationally. All she knew was that she had to get away from the knowledge she saw in Stephen Hunter’s eyes!
Her breath came in tiny frightened spurts as she grasped Jamie’s hand to hurry him inside, but suddenly Stephen was there, big and dangerous-looking as he placed his arm across the door and barred her way.
‘No! You aren’t going anywhere. It’s time we talked, Rachel. In fact, I would say it’s way past time we did that, wouldn’t you?’
The taunting note in Stephen’s voice made Rachel feel sick because she had never heard it before. Unbidden, the memory of that summer flooded back, Stephen’s voice saying her name, so deep and resonant with emotion, as he told her that he loved her...
‘Mummy, you’re hurting me!’
Jamie shook her arm, his small face full of mounting fear. Rachel struggled to regain control as she released his hand and forced herself to smile. ‘Sorry, darling. I...I just wanted to get you inside out of the wind.’
‘I’m not cold. Can’t I play out for a bit before we go to the park?’
Stephen glanced down at the child and his expression softened. ‘Why don’t you go inside for now?’ He looked back at Rachel, and there was no trace of softness as he continued, ‘Mummy and I are...old friends. There are a lot of things we need to catch up on.’
Rachel heard the irony in Stephen’s voice. Her heart lurched but she was powerless to do anything with Jamie standing there. She looked down at her son, feeling love spilling through her as she saw the worry on his face. What was the point in worrying Jamie even more when she might be able to sort this out without the need to tell him who Stephen Hunter was?
‘Yes, go along in, Jamie. I won’t be long.’
Jamie gave them both a considering look then disappeared inside the house. Rachel took a long, slow breath before she turned to face Stephen. In the beginning she had imagined this scene so many times, at her blackest moments half wished that it would happen. But the years had passed and the likelihood of them ever meeting again had become remote—as remote as Stephen himself had become.
She had read about him in the papers, of course, followed his success and taken comfort from the fact that she had been proved right in doing what she had. The only thing she had ever wanted was Stephen’s happiness. Yet, looking at him now, Rachel suddenly wondered if by ensuring that she had paved the way to her own worst nightmare!
‘Why, Rachel? Answer me that. Why did you do it?’
Stephen’s voice was so low that she had to strain to hear it, but it wasn’t an indication of his feelings. Rachel could hear the fury in those deep tones, feel it emanating from him. She shivered convulsively and looked away, afraid that her fear would be all the confirmation he needed. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’
Stephen gave a harsh laugh, his fingers hurting as he turned her face back so that he could stare into her eyes. ‘Don’t lie! Damn you, Rachel, don’t you dare do that on top of everything else you’ve done! I only had to look at the boy to know the truth. He’s my son, isn’t he? Isn’t he?’
‘I... No...no! You’re wrong, Stephen.’ Rachel forced a laugh but it sounded empty of conviction even to her. ‘I don’t know where you got that idea from...’
‘The boy has my eyes, Rachel. I looked at him and saw the same reflection I see each day in the mirror. My eyes, your features...our child! Now all I want to know is why you didn’t tell me. Why for all these years you have kept my child, my son, a secret from me.’
Stephen’s fingers tightened on her chin, his eyes glittering wildly. Rachel felt a jolt of real fear. Stephen was almost out of control. Who knew what he was capable of right then, what he might be capable of later?
Stephen Hunter was a powerful man now, with a reputation of always getting what he wanted. What if he decided that he wanted Jamie? What if his anger turned into a desire to take back what she had held from him all these years? That she had done so only to ensure that Stephen might achieve the success he had wanted so desperately would mean nothing to him now.
Losing Jamie was a risk she wouldn’t take!
‘No! You’re wrong. Jamie isn’t...isn’t yours.’ Rachel swallowed hard, aching for the lie she must tell. ‘Jamie just has the Hunter eyes not...not your eyes, Stephen.’
Her voice was low but she felt Stephen tense. She winced from the pressure of his fingers yet he seemed not to notice. He stared back at her, his face set, his eyes so dark that they appeared almost black. ‘Meaning?’
‘Ja—Jamie is Robert’s son, not yours. We...we slept together while you were away in London that time. I never wanted you to know, Stephen. That’s why I left after Robert died and I discovered I was pregnant.’
Rachel stared back at him, willing herself not to betray the agony she felt as she denied everything she and Stephen had once been to each other. ‘Jamie isn’t your child but your cousin’s, and you...you have no claim on him.’
For a moment Stephen didn’t move, his fingers still gripping her chin, his eyes still staring into hers. Rachel could feel the ugliness of the lie spreading. She wanted to scream that it wasn’t true, that she had loved him to the exclusion of anyone else, but the words were held back by the fear of what she could be facing until in the end it was too late.
‘Damn you, Rachel! Damn you to hell!’
Stephen let her go, his eyes blazing down at her for one long moment before he turned and strode to his car.
‘Stephen!’ Rachel’s voice held a desperate plea, but if Stephen heard it he gave no sign. He got into the car and drove off without looking back, leaving Rachel as once she had left him—but her reasons for doing so then had been ones of love; Stephen’s now were born out of hatred.
‘Mum, what’s the matter? Why are you crying? What did that man say to upset you?’
Jamie touched her arm, shades of uncertainty in his voice. Rachel ran a hand over her face, unaware until that moment that she was crying. She glanced down at her son, her heart breaking as she recalled what she had seen just now in another pair of grey eyes...
‘Well, I don’t like him! I hope we never see him again.’
Rachel fought free of her own pain when she saw the mutinous pout of Jamie’s lower lip as he glared after the car. Suddenly she knew that she couldn’t let this happen. She might have denied Stephen his son, but she couldn’t live with herself if she allowed Jamie to hate his father.
‘I haven’t seen Stephen for a long time and I...I told him something he didn’t know which upset him. Stephen didn’t make my cry, Jamie. It’s just the wind making my eyes water. How about if we go straight to the park now? And when we get back we can make some toast by the fire for tea?’
Jamie’s face brightened. ‘Brill! Can I make it, Mummy? I’ll be really careful—promise.’
‘We’ll see.’ Rachel smiled shakily. Taking Jamie’s hand, she closed the front door and started back down the road. She paused when they reached the corner to look back, but the street was empty, Stephen gone. But the memory of their meeting was going to haunt her, she knew, like that lie she had told. That Stephen should have believed jt so readily was something else she was going to have to learn to live with.
If Stephen had ever really loved her then surely he should have known she could never betray him like that? ‘So there you are. Dammit, Stephen, you could have said that you were going out! The whole place has been in an uproar for the past hour since you couldn’t be found.’
Stephen turned from the window, his brows arching cynically. ‘I thought I gave you permission to negotiate the deal, David. Why did you need me there to hold your hand?’
Colour ran up the younger man’s face. ‘I know what you told me but it isn’t that simple. Rogerson refuses to deal with anyone but you.’ David laughed wryly. ‘Can’t say I blame him. It does seem hard to believe that The Shark has lost his bite!’
Stephen acknowledged the statement with a thin smile, well aware of the nickname he had acquired since some wit of a journalist had used it in one of the financial papers. He had been likened to a shark, eating up and spitting out anything which got in his path.
Maybe it had been true once, but recently he had lost his taste for the sharp end of business—which was why this take-over bid had arisen. Now, after what had just happened, Stephen was less inclined than ever to worry about what became of the damned company!
His hands clenched as he swung round to stare out of the window again. ‘Then it’s your job to convince him, David. That is what I pay you for and I shall continue to do so until Rogerson takes over. After that, well...’
Stephen shrugged indifferently, wishing that David would leave, knowing that he would have to tell him to go soon. He wanted to be by himself, to let what Rachel had told him sink in so that he could start to understand it!
‘You’re a fool, Stephen! God knows why you’re throwing away everything you’ve worked for. But I do know that you’re making a big mistake. The pity of it is that you will only realise that when it’s too late!’
It was a measure of how deeply David felt that he should speak that way, and it was that which curbed Stephen’s response. ‘Then I shall only have myself to blame. Maybe it’s hard for you to understand but I just don’t give a damn any longer. If it goes it goes; so be it. Now if that’s all...?’
‘Yes, it is! But if I were in your shoes I would be out there fighting. I wouldn’t let anyone take all this away. I would want to pass it on to my children, as something they could be proud of!’
David left, missing the expression which crossed Stephen’s face. Stephen stared out of the window, trying to control the flood of emotions he felt. It felt as though someone had ripped a hole in his chest, torn out what had once been his heart...
He had loved Rachel so much! Maybe it had been simply the intensity of youth which had heightened his feelings for her, the sweetness of first love, but nothing since had ever touched him so deeply, not even his marriage to Shelley. Shelley had been beautiful and cultured and had fit perfectly into the life he had built for himself—but had he ever loved her?
Stephen knew the answer to that without thinking about it, knew that was why Shelley had divorced him in the end. And all he had felt was a fleeting regret that he had failed, little else. Yet learning what Rachel had done all those years ago hurt so bitterly that he could hardly believe the pain and anger he felt.
He slammed his fist against the wall then turned and stared around the luxurious office. Everything he had achieved had been based on that long hot summer. He might have tried to blank thoughts of Rachel from his mind but she had never really left his spirit. He had striven to achieve his dreams because they were the dreams he had discussed with her, the ambitions he had spoken of only to Rachel.
Rachel had been like a shining beacon, her beauty and sweetness unmatched, their relationship something he had measured every succeeding one against—to their detriment. And it had all been a sham, a mockery. Everything he had done so far in his life had been done for the wrong reasons. He felt cheated!
Stephen glanced at his watch and his eyes narrowed. He might not be able to change the past but he could shape his future. He hadn’t known what he wanted for a long time. Now suddenly it was crystal-clear—fresh ambitions, a whole new set of dreams. And Rachel had played her part in it, just as she had played such a vital role before!
CHAPTER TWO
IT WAS almost ten before Jamie finally settled for the night. Rachel had hoped that the distraction of making toast by the fire would take his mind off what had happened, but Jamie had refused to let the incident drop.
Rachel didn’t feel happy about the lies she had been forced to tell but they couldn’t be helped. Jamie knew little about his father, apart from the fact that Rachel had loved him very much. Now Jamie rarely mentioned him. Single-parent families were quite common where they lived, so Jamie found nothing strange about his situation—although that didn’t make it easier for Rachel.
She had lost her own parents in a tragic road accident in her teens and, although Aunt Edith had been kind, Rachel had missed them dreadfully, still valued the years they’d had together as a family. She hated the idea that Jamie would never have the security of two loving parents as she’d had. Had she done the right thing today in telling Stephen what she had?
Rachel sat down on the sofa, recalling their meeting. It had taken on a certain unreality now, yet she didn’t need to try hard to recall how Stephen had looked at her, his eyes so cold and condemning...
A shiver ran through and she got up abruptly to add more coal to the fire. Outside in the street a car door slammed, followed by the sound of footsteps crossing the pavement. Rachel held her breath, her heart racing, but then the door to the adjoining house banged and voices came clearly through the thin dividing wall.
Rachel gave a gasping little sob as she sat down again. What had she imagined? That Stephen had come to see her again? Stephen had believed her story. He had nothing to come for! Anything she and Stephen Hunter had once shared was well and truly dead. Her heart ached at the thought.
The sudden ringing of the doorbell made Rachel jump. She hurried to the window but there was only the car parked next door. Obviously her neighbours had visitors and probably wanted to borrow some milk or something. It was that sort of community, and after the impersonality of the big estate where she and Jamie lived, Rachel found it a pleasant change.
Rachel didn’t bother to slip on the chain before she opened the door, and she felt the smile die on her lips. For a moment she couldn’t find her voice, and then it came out as a husky croak which betrayed only too clearly the shock she felt.
‘What... what do you want?’
Stephen arched both brows, the cool smile doing little to soften his austerely handsome face. ‘I thought I should drop round again. I realised that there were a lot of things we never got around to talking about before.’
‘Th—there’s nothing we need to talk about! Now if you don’t mind...’
Rachel started to close the door, but she was no match for Stephen as he calmly pushed it open and stepped inside. He glanced round, dwarfing the small, shabby hall with his powerful frame. He was wearing a black cashmere coat over a dinner suit and the thick wool added to the impression of bulk, emphasised the solid width of his shoulders, the power of his body.
Rachel had a sudden vivid mental flash of Stephen as he had been all those years before—his lean frame dressed in jeans and shirt, his dark hair falling across his forehead—and then the picture faded as abruptly as it had come and there seemed to be little left of the boy in the elegant figure of the man. Yet when Stephen turned to look at her there was just something in the depths of his eyes which made her heart catch...
Rachel looked away, scared by the sudden rush of warmth along her veins. What she had felt once for this man was long gone. Love couldn’t survive such an absence. Oh, the memory of it was still there, a warm glow which lingered long after the fire had burned out. That summer had been both the best and the worst time in her life, but she was no longer the girl who had loved the young Stephen Hunter with such desperation!
‘You seem surprised to see me, Rachel.’
‘I am surprised! I thought we said everything that needed to be said before.’
‘Did you? How odd. I think there’s still a lot we need to talk about.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘Even more than I imagined when I first came here today! I’ve been looking for you for a while now, Rachel, but it was only last night that I heard you’d come back to town.’
‘Looking for me...?’ Rachel’s heart seemed to jolt to a halt. ‘I don’t understand. Wh—why would you do that after all this time?’
Stephen smiled thinly. ‘Why indeed? Just a whim, I suppose. I’d reached a point in my life when it seemed time to make some changes. I decided to tie up a few loose ends, find the answers to all the questions which have puzzled me—although I must confess I wasn’t expecting to find out what I did!’
Rachel felt the ready colour run up her face. ‘I cannot see any point in...in raking over the past!’
‘Oh, but I can. So why don’t we go inside and sit down and chat about it like two old friends should?’
Her heart ached at the irony she heard in his voice. ‘Are we friends, though, Stephen? I think not.’
‘Once we were a lot more than just friends, Rachel, or so I believed. Can you blame me for wanting to find out how I could have made such a mistake?’ He gave a softly taunting laugh which curled through the air between them. ‘So, Rachel, what’s it to be? Can you spare a cup of coffee and a few minutes? Or do you think that is more than what we shared all those years ago warrants?’
Rachel felt the sting of that mocking reference to their past. She had grieved at the thought of spoiling the memory of what they had been to each other once, but obviously it meant little to Stephen now!
‘Why not? A cup of coffee seems the least I can offer after all this time. Go on through to the sitting room and make yourself comfortable. It won’t take long.’
Rachel held the brittle smile until Stephen had turned and walked along the hall. She closed her eyes on a wave of pain, wishing she had told him to leave rather than prolong the agony when there was so little point. Nothing could change what had happened in the past; nothing would alter what had happened today.
She and Stephen Hunter were so far apart now that it would be impossible to bridge the chasm between them!
Why had he come back?
Stephen glanced around the room, making no attempt to sit down. He was too tense to sit, too on edge to wait calmly for Rachel to come back with coffee he didn’t want to drink and she didn’t want to offer.
Impatiently he strode to the window, but there was little to be seen apart from the long terraces of houses—nothing to take his mind off the reason why he was here...
He swore roughly. Just a few short hours ago he had told himself that he could handle what Rachel had told him once he had taken steps to set his life back on course. Yet as he’d sat in the auditorium tonight, pretending to follow the opera, he had realised that it wasn’t that simple.
He had left his companion at her flat with some excuse he couldn’t even remember now and driven over here, ready to make Rachel tell him the whole sordid tale from start to finish before he put it out of his mind for good. Now God alone knew just how much he was regretting the impulse! How could he forget how Rachel had betrayed him?
Stephen prowled restlessly, picking up an ornament from the shelf in the alcove, putting it down to reach for another. He stopped, his attention caught by a photograph in a cheap cardboard frame. Almost of its own volition, his hand went out to pick it up while the memories flowed through him like bitter-sweet wine and the years fell away...
‘Who is she?’
Robert opened one eye and followed the direction of his cousin’s gaze then sank back onto the sand with a heavy sigh. ‘Venus, Aphrodite—the embodiment of perfect womanhood...’
‘Thanks!’ Stephen gave Robert a friendly punch on the shoulder, his eyes following the girl as she walked along the beach. He hadn’t seen her before, he was certain; he would have remembered if he had! It wasn’t just that silver-gilt hair which flowed down her back, or the purity of her profile, it was the way she moved so gracefully, so regally...
Stephen pushed himself up from the sand, his grey eyes full of determination which made his cousin groan. ‘Uh-oh! I hope she’s read her horoscope and knows that a tall, dark, handsome...’ Robert paused. ‘No, let’s not get too carried away—that a tall, dark stranger is going to cross her path today. I wouldn’t like her to get too much of a shock.’
Stephen ignored the teasing banter. He and Robert were more like brothers than cousins. They were almost the same age, with Stephen just six months the senior, and had been inseparable since childhood. The fact that their fathers were twins had probably forged a closer bond than normal, although he and Robert looked little alike apart from both having the same slate-grey eyes.
‘I won’t be long, but...’
‘But don’t wait if you’re not back by sundown.’
Robert waved him off, closing his eyes again as he sank back onto the warm sand. Stephen grinned, wondering how anyone could happily live his life at such a slow pace. At nineteen years of age Stephen was burning with ambition. Getting a job—any job—seemed the sum total of his friends’ aspirations, but Stephen wanted so much more that there wasn’t a limit on what he intended to achieve...
Purposefully he closed the gap between himself and the girl, his long, powerful legs eating up the distance. The day was hot and he’d stripped down to old denim cut-offs. His skin was darkly tanned from working outdoors and his body was lean, fit, the wide shoulders and narrow hips drawing appreciative looks from a group of girls he passed, but Stephen didn’t even glance their way. His eyes were centred on the slender, elegant back of the blonde up ahead.
In contrast to most people on the beach, who were wearing as little as was decent, she was covered from throat to ankle by a floating dress of pale cream cotton. The breeze caught the delicate fabric as she walked so that the skirt moulded to the shape of her long, slender legs, the bodice clinging to the high curve of her small breasts in a way which was far more provocative than any scanty bikini.
Stephen felt desire stir inside him, hot and vibrant. He quickened his pace until he came level with her. She glanced round then looked away, her face faintly flushed as she carried on walking just a shade faster, but Stephen had no difficulty in keeping up with her.
They walked like that for several minutes, neither speaking, Stephen watching her with long sideways looks she couldn’t help but notice. Then suddenly she stopped, her brown eyes stormy as she turned to face him.
‘What do you want?’
She had a soft voice, sweet and musical, despite the annoyance which touched it. Stephen felt a small thrill of pleasure that it should so exactly match his expectations. He gave her a slow smile, his eyes glittering with an appreciation she’d have needed to be blind not to see.
‘You.’
For a moment she appeared dumbstruck, then suddenly laughed with genuine amusement. It surprised him because he’d half expected some frosty response, had almost been looking forward to overcoming any initial resistance she might show. But obviously she didn’t intend to play the game the way he had planned it.
‘Mmm, so what do you want me to say to that, I wonder?’ She chewed her lower lip, delicate white teeth showing against a soft red mouth which bore no trace of lipstick. She tilted her head to one side so that her hair swung over her shoulder, the fine strands glittering like spun gold in the sunlight.
Stephen felt his palms dampen. He looked away, afraid of what might be on his face right then, faintly shocked by his own reaction. He was popular with the girls—in the town and beyond—his dark good looks and confidence a potent combination he had long since learned to use to full advantage. Yet right at that moment he felt gauche and inexperienced. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.
‘Well, come along, tell me. You’ve followed me all this way down the beach so you may as well.’
Sudden laughter touched Stephen’s mouth as his confidence surged back, but he knew enough not to grab too greedily at the small advantage. He merely raised both brows in an expression which was both quizzical and knowing.
‘How do you know how far I’ve followed you?’ His deep voice hummed with meaning. The girl gasped, her hand covering her mouth for a second before she let it fall to her side and laughed again, slightly ruefully this time.
‘Well, I did just happen to notice you...’
Stephen laughed at the admission as well, overwhelmed by a sense of well being. He looked back along the beach, deliberately measuring the distance to where Robert was lying. ‘Then all things considered maybe we should introduce ourselves. I’m Stephen Hunter.’
‘Rachel Harris.’ She held her hand out to him in a gesture which was unexpected and strangely touching.
Stephen took it, feeling the coolness of her flesh, the way her slender fingers barely filled his far larger palm. When she drew her hand away he felt a sense of loss which stunned him. He hastened to disguise it as Rachel started to speak.
‘Well, I really must go.’
She began to edge away and Stephen realised he was going to miss his chance if he didn’t get his act together. Yet, strangely, the last thing he wanted was to go through the routine he had used so often and so effectively in the past.
Impulsively he caught Rachel’s arm, then let her go when she glanced down with a cool hauteur which brought the colour to his face and a tightness to his voice.
‘How about letting me buy you a drink?’ He nodded towards the refreshment stand further along the beach. ‘A Coke sounds good to me on a day like today.’
‘I’m sorry, I really can’t. I have to go. Some other time, perhaps.’
She was already walking away before she had even finished speaking, the polite words more a dismissal than a real statement of regret. Stephen watched her striding along the beach, the sun in her hair, the breeze catching her dress, and knew there and then that he wanted to see her again. Frankly, he couldn’t recall ever wanting anything so much...!
‘Here we are. I’m sorry it’s only instant. Aunt Edith never drinks...drank anything else.’
Rachel came in with the tray, pausing when Stephen stared blankly at her before he put down whatever he had been holding. He turned to take off his overcoat and she wondered if she had imagined the expression on his face.
She set the tray down on the small table in front of the sofa and handed him a cup, spilling a little coffee into the saucer when Stephen’s fingers brushed hers as he took it from her.
‘Thank you.’
Stephen’s voice grated, resonant with something which made Rachel’s heart leap, perhaps a reflection of what she thought she had seen on his face just now. Yet when she chanced another look at him there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.
Rachel sipped her own coffee, feeling the hot sting of tears behind her lids. What a fool she was to look for something which had died a long time ago. Stephen felt nothing for her now, nothing at all!
She took a deep breath, disguising the pain beneath a veneer of politeness. ‘So, how have you been? Obviously life has treated you well, Stephen.’
Stephen settled back in the chair and crossed one long leg over the other, a cynical smile touching his mouth. ‘If you mean am I a rich man now, Rachel, then the answer is yes. I can honestly say that I have more money than I really know what to do with.’
His tone was mocking; it brought a sudden heat to her cheeks. Rachel set her cup down, her eyes blazing. ‘That wasn’t what I asked! Frankly, I don’t give a damn whether or not you’re rich as Croesus, Stephen. Life doesn’t revolve around money, and if you haven’t discovered that yet then pity help you!’
There was a moment’s silence before Stephen replied, his tone less abrasive. ‘I apologise. Let me answer your question the way you meant it to be answered, then. I have achieved all I set out to and probably more than I’d hoped, but it hasn’t been easy. There have been failures to set against the successes, including a marriage which ended in divorce.’
Rachel felt the shock ripple through her in small waves and looked down at her hands. ‘I...I didn’t know that you’d been married.’
‘Why should you? We went our separate ways many years ago, Rachel. Why should you know anything about what has happened to me since? And it’s obvious that I know very little about what has happened to you!’
Stephen raised his cup, noticing in surprise that his hand was trembling. He took a sip of the coffee then set the cup down on the table, not enjoying the fact that Rachel could still affect him in any way at all. ‘So, tell me, are you married?’
She shook her head, her pale hair shimmering as it caught the light from the old glass fitment overhead. ‘No, I’ve never been married.’
‘Why not?’ He shrugged lightly enough but his gaze was searching. ‘Surely you must know that the last thing Robert would have wanted was for you to waste your life grieving for him?’
God, how the lies grew and demanded more! Rachel’s hands tightened on the soft cord of her trousers, her fingers cold as ice. ‘Maybe I just never found anyone to...to match up to him.’
Stephen felt the pain of that statement like a physical blow. His voice was hard and uncompromising with the effort not to show how he felt. ‘I see. A touching tribute to my cousin, indeed. I must say, Rachel, that I never suspected how you and Robert felt at the time—although, thinking about it in the light of recent revelations, I suppose there were signs if I had taken the trouble to read them properly.’
‘What do you mean?’ Rachel stared at him in confusion.
He gave a soft laugh which made a shiver dance down her spine because it reminded her for a moment of how Stephen had used to laugh. But when she looked at him there was no hint of genuine amusement in his glittering eyes, little trace of the Stephen she had once loved so desperately.
‘Oh, small things which seemed insignificant at the time, like the way you and Robert used to laugh together over some magazine story or other.’ Stephen smiled narrowly, studying her with an almost clinical detachment. ‘You and he always did share the same off-beat sense of humour, didn’t you, Rachel, the same sense of the ridiculous? I used to be pleased that you and Robert got on so well. Only, apparently, it wasn’t quite so innocent as it seemed! However, I don’t blame Robert for what happened. He was undoubtedly as taken in as I was.
‘Still, that’s all water under the bridge, as they say, and I do think that you are making a mistake by clinging to the past. The boy needs a father, and I’m sure that Robert would have been the first to agree with that sentiment.’
Robert most probably would have! Dear, sweet Robert, who would have forgiven her these lies because he had understood only too well what Stephen was like and how much Rachel had loved him!
Rachel couldn’t believe that Stephen was actually saying these things, that he really could read more into the innocent friendship she and Robert had enjoyed than had been there. Yet wasn’t that just what she had wanted? She had wanted to convince Stephen that Jamie wasn’t his child, yet that very success left behind a bitterly unpalatable taste.
‘I’m sure you’re right, but unfortunately life isn’t quite that simple.’ Rachel gave a strained laugh, aching at the thought of how readily Stephen had dismissed all they had been to one another. ‘Few men are interested in taking on another man’s child, Stephen, so the offers haven’t exactly been pouring in over the years.’
‘But I’m sure there must have been some. You are a beautiful woman, Rachel. The boy would be just a minor handicap in most men’s eyes.’
‘I don’t want my son to be viewed as a “handicap”!’ Her eyes blazed back at him. ‘Not even if it means spending the rest of my life alone. I have made a life for Jamie and myself without help. I saw no need to...to sell myself for a meal ticket!’
Stephen’s smile was cynical. ‘That wasn’t what I was suggesting. However, it isn’t beyond the realms of possibility that you might meet someone and fall in love, is it?’ He paused deliberately, ‘That is if you really understand what love is, Rachel.’
Rachel knew that Stephen was alluding to the fact that she had told him that she loved him so many times and yet, apparently, had gone off with Robert! Her heart ached, but the anger she felt carried her through the pain.
Stephen should have known that she had loved him...him, no one else! The fact that he doubted her just proved what a sham their relationship had been.
Rachel got to her feet rather shakily but her voice was steady. ‘I know what it means to be in love, Stephen. I know how it feels to put someone else’s needs before your own, to make a decision you know you will regret because it is the only one which will make the person you love happy. I know what real love is, but do you? Answer me that!’
Stephen stood up too, big and intimidating as he faced her. There was a nerve ticking along his jaw and his lips were drawn into a tight line which spoke of restraint. But there was no heat in his anger when he answered. It was icily controlled, and far more hurtful because of that.
‘Oh, I know what love is, Rachel. I know what a fool it makes of a man so that he sees things in a woman which aren’t there, believes things which aren’t true because he is blind to the truth.’ He gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘I know that above all else, above the passion and the desire, love means fidelity and trust—and they are two things you have no conception of and probably never will have. So don’t stand there, Rachel, and lecture me on love, because you don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!’
Stephen picked up his overcoat and left, the sound of the front door slamming echoing like an accusation. Rachel stood where she was, her hands clenched at her sides, her whole body stiff with pain yet she couldn’t cry. Tears wouldn’t relieve this agony she felt. It went too deep and hurt too much. To know just how low she had sunk in Stephen’s estimation was almost more than she could bear.
CHAPTER THREE
‘I WISH we weren’t leaving, Mum. You said we could stay a few more days.’ Jamie picked up a sweater and rammed it into the case, his lower lip trembling. ‘I’ll miss the school trip.’
Rachel bit back a sharp retort, realising that it was unfair to take her feelings out on Jamie. All night long she had lain sleeplessly, going over what Stephen had said to her. She’d got up just before dawn and made coffee, then sat at the kitchen table with it growing cold as she had come to a decision.
She had to leave the town. Staying here now was out of the question. She couldn’t face the thought of seeing Stephen again. He hated her and she would have to live with that for the rest of her days.
‘I’m sorry, darling. I know it’s disappointing for you, but there will be other trips when you get back to your old school.’
‘Not like this one! I hate my old school, I hate that horrible flat and I hate that man—because he’s why we’re going!’
Tears rolled down Jamie’s face but Rachel remained stunned into immobility. ‘Wh—which man?’
‘You know who—that man who came here yesterday. He scared you and that’s why we’re going. I hate him, I hate him, I hate—!’
‘Stop it!’ Rachel gripped her son by his thin shoulders, her face ashen. ‘Stop that right now. I will not have you behaving like this, Jamie.’
She rarely spoke to the child so sharply, but then he had never thrown a tantrum like this before. She let Jamie go, feeling the tears burning her eyes. Their lives were falling apart, everything she had striven so hard to achieve crumbling around them. Yet she couldn’t explain to Jamie what was happening and why. He was far too young to cope with such a burden.
She took a steadying breath, her voice as level as she could make it. ‘We are leaving today because we have to. It has nothing to do with Stephen Hunter. Now, I want you to pack your things like I told you to and let’s have no more of this nonsense.’
Jamie scuffed the toe of his trainer against the rug. ‘I wish we could stay though, Mum.’
Rachel forced a smile, her heart aching at his downcast expression. ‘I know you do, darling, but we can’t. Quite apart from the fact that I don’t have a job here, we would have no place to live. Aunt Edith only rented this house and the landlord wants to let it to someone else as soon as he can.
‘So come along, let’s get a move on. If we hurry, we can catch the train before lunch. Then there will be time to see your friends when we get home and tell them everything you’ve been up to.’
Leaving Jamie to finish packing, Rachel hurried downstairs. Most of the furniture was too shabby to bother with, but there were some small items of Aunt Edith’s which she wanted to take with her.
She found a sturdy cardboard box then set about emptying the shelves in the sitting room of their ornaments. None of them were of any great value, but Aunt Edith had treasured them and Rachel couldn’t bring herself to throw them out.
She stowed them carefully into the box, then paused when she came to the photo. She had forgotten it was there—had almost forgotten about it being taken during her last year at the Academy. Now, as she took it off the shelf, she knew it was what Stephen had been looking at the night before.
How had he felt, seeing it again after all this time? Had it brought back memories of what they had shared? Or was that time so long ago now that Stephen couldn’t even remember how they had felt about one another that summer?
With a pang Rachel realised that she would never know the answer, and maybe it was better that she didn’t. She packed the photo then found some tape to seal the box and it felt almost as though she was sealing away her past.
Whatever happened now it was over between her and Stephen Hunter. Now there wasn’t even the sweetness of memory to bind them together...
‘I don’t know how you pulled it off, Stephen! What a coup!’
David couldn’t hide his admiration. Stephen smiled, but his eyes showed little genuine pleasure at what would go down as the deal of the century. The phones had been buzzing all morning but he had refused to take any calls, telling his secretary to inform everyone that he would be making a statement shortly. Once what he had achieved would have buoyed him up for months. Now it made little impression.
David appeared not to notice his lack of enthusiasm. ‘Did you have it planned from the outset? You did, didn’t you? My God, but you must have nerves of steel, Stephen. If you’d lost then the whole lot would have gone...’ David looked round the elegant office and swallowed. ‘But instead you allowed Rogerson’s to show their hand and ended up taking them over! I don’t know what to say.’
‘You seem to be managing quite well.’ Stephen heard the dry sting in his own voice and sighed. He got up from the desk and went to a cabinet hidden behind the pale grey ash panelling. He took out a bottle of malt whisky and poured some into a glass then offered it to David. ‘Join me in a toast?’
‘Thanks.’ David took it but his expression was puzzled. ‘I’ve never known you to drink at this time of the day.’
Stephen poured whisky into a second glass and swirled it around, his mouth twisting wryly. ‘There’s a first time for everything, so they say. So—a toast, then: to success; the only thing which matters in this life!’
He tipped the whisky down his throat but its fire did little to ease the coldness within. He set the glass down and went back to his desk, aware that David was watching him with an astonishment which made him feel instantly annoyed with himself. He didn’t want people speculating, wondering if there was anything wrong! But if David had any idea how he really felt...
Stephen picked up a file to study the figures on a projection sheet, but the numbers started to swim before his eyes as his mind raced back to what had happened yesterday, what had been said last night...
‘There’s nothing wrong is there, Stephen? We went through those figures a dozen times or more after you left.’
‘What?’ Stephen glanced up in confusion then shook his head. ‘No. I just wanted to double-check before we set everything in motion. Get on to Rogerson and tell him that I’ll be wanting to see him later today.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Around three, I imagine. Don’t take any bull either. Rogerson won’t be happy about this, but make sure he knows he’ll have a hell of a lot more to lose by not co-operating.’
‘Will do.’ David sounded relieved. ‘I’ll get on to it right away. Will you be in your office until then or what? Just in case we need you...’
‘I’ll leave word with Trish. Check with her. You’ll be able to get me on the mobile anyhow.’
Stephen looked down at the projection sheet again as David left, but the figures were still dancing around. With a sigh he got up and went back to the drinks cabinet, then stopped with his hand halfway towards the bottle. That wasn’t the way to clear his head.
He walked back across the room to his private bathroom and sluiced his face with cold water, then stood and stared at his reflection in the mirror on the wall above the basin. He had just pulled off a deal most men would have given their right arm for, even though he hadn’t planned on doing it when he’d got up yesterday. Yesterday he had been prepared to let the whole lot go, and yet he had ended up taking over the company which had attempted to buy him out!
Now the combined power of Hunter Electronics and Rogerson’s would make the new operation so big that none could match it. He was right at the top, higher than he had even dreamed of going, yet he felt neither pleasure nor any sense of achievement, just this empty ache...
Rachel could never have loved him; he saw that now, finally. All these years the memory of her love had stayed with him, but he had simply fooled himself into believing something which hadn’t been true. Rachel had loved Robert, borne Robert’s child, had stayed faithful all this time to his cousin’s memory...
God, how it hurt to discover that, but the truth had to be faced—as did the fact that there were certain obligations he needed to attend to. Yesterday he hadn’t been thinking clearly, had failed to see the implications of what he had found out.
Now Stephen realised it couldn’t end here. There were more loose ends to tie up than he had imagined. But after that was done Rachel was going out of his life for good!
It was raining when the taxi dropped them at the station. Rachel stacked their case and the box on the pavement then paid the fare. She added a very small tip, ignoring the driver’s obvious disgust as he roared away. She had just as much need of the money as he, and she couldn’t afford to be overly generous!
There seemed to be a lot of people milling around outside the main entrance. Rachel worked her way through the crowd, only to be brought to a halt by a uniformed station employee.
‘Sorry, miss, you can’t go in. Station’s closed.’
‘Closed? But we have a train to catch in fifteen minutes.’
The man shook his head, putting out a restraining hand as another passenger tried to walk past. ‘Sorry, sir. Like I was just telling this young lady, station’s closed. Been a derailment further down the line, there has, and until we’ve sorted it out all trains have been cancelled.’
As though to reinforce the seriousness of the situation, a cavalcade of emergency vehicles came roaring along the road with their sirens wailing. Within minutes the police were clearing the area and setting up yellow and black tape barriers to keep sightseers at bay.
Rachel hurried Jamie away, the weight of the case and the box dragging on her arms. She stopped to put them down, wondering what to do. The rain was beating down now and she didn’t relish the thought of standing around getting soaked until the trains were running again, but what choice did she have? She had handed over the keys to Aunt Edith’s house on their way here, so they couldn’t go back.
Jamie shivered, his small face pinched and wan as he stood dejectedly at her side. ‘I’m cold, Mummy.’
Rachel bent and gave him a quick hug, ‘I know, sweetheart. Maybe we can find a café and have a drink to warm us up?’
She straightened up and looked round, but the only café in sight already had a queue out of the door. Her gaze moved on over the traffic, which had been brought to a halt by the police, and she felt her heart lurch as her eyes locked with a pair of grey ones staring from the window of a big maroon Jaguar.
For a second Rachel stood stunned into immobility by the sight of Stephen, then she turned away, her heart thundering. Taking a firm grip on the suitcase and the box, she reached for Jamie’s hand. But at that moment the police sent a group of football supporters streaming noisily away from the station. Suddenly Rachel found herself caught up in the mêlée, saw to her horror Jamie being carried along with them.
‘Jamie... Jamie!’ she shouted, but within seconds the child had been swallowed up by the crowd. Dropping the case and the box, she tried to push her way through the people to get to him, but they resisted her efforts, a couple of the younger men deliberately barring her way.
‘What’s the hurry, darling? You don’t want to go rushing out of my life when we’ve only just met, do you?’
One of the men grabbed her around the waist and stared lustfully into her face while his friends laughed.
‘Let me go! Let...me...go!’ Rachel beat against the man’s chest with her clenched fists, panic eroding any caution.
The man’s smile faded, his face turning ugly. ‘Now that isn’t very nice. I don’t like people who don’t know how to take a joke...’
‘The joke’s over. Let her go.’
Stephen hadn’t raised his voice, but then he didn’t need to. Every word cut like a lash, making the younger man blanch. He let Rachel go at once, then elbowed his way into the crowd with his cronies following.
Rachel sucked in a terrified gasp but still felt breathless, her face bloodless. Stephen caught her arm, his fingers biting into her flesh through her wet raincoat.
‘Are you all right? Did he hurt you? Rachel?’
‘Jamie...!’ she managed to gasp, then saw that Stephen had no idea what she meant. ‘He...he’s caught up in that crowd! I can’t see him... I can’t see him, Stephen!’
‘I’ll get him. Stay there.’
Stephen didn’t hesitate as he pushed his way into the swell of bodies. He was a head taller than most, which was obviously an advantage. Suddenly he bent, and as Rachel watched he swung Jamie up in his arms.
He carried the child back, his powerful body forging a path through the crush of people. He set Jamie down beside Rachel then crouched down and looked sternly into the child’s frightened face.
‘You scared your mother half to death, young man. Make sure you hold onto her hand next time. Understand?’
Jamie nodded, too scared by what had happened to speak. He caught hold of Rachel’s hand and held it tightly, his eyes huge as he stared up at the man towering over him.
Rachel felt her legs go weak as reaction set in, and she swayed unsteadily. She heard Stephen utter something harsh as he slid his hand under her elbow. He retrieved her case and the box then led her to where he had left his car.
‘Get in. You look as though you’re likely to drop right where you’re standing.’
Rachel tried to pull back, but although Stephen’s grip didn’t hurt he held her firmly enough to make that impossible. ‘I’m fine. Really, Stephen, there’s no need to...’
He gave a short laugh which held scant amusement. ‘You don’t look fine. Now spare us both the indignity of a scene. Just get in, Rachel—because, believe me, I’m in no mood to persuade you politely that it is in your best interests and the best interests of the boy.’
It shouldn’t have hurt so much to hear Stephen speak like that but it did. ‘His name is Jamie! Is it so hard to remember who he is, Stephen?’
Stephen’s eyes shimmered with bitterness, and something which made Rachel want to weep. ‘No, it isn’t difficult. It’s only too easy to remember that.’
He opened the car door without another word. Rachel slid inside, watching numbly as Jamie got in the back. Just for a moment, as Stephen bent to help the child with his seat belt, their two heads were close together, one so dark and the other so fair. Then Stephen straightened, his face like stone as he slammed the door.
Rachel took a sobbing breath, feeling the anguish scoring deep inside her. What she had seen in Stephen’s eyes just now was everything she felt—all the pain, all the regret. Only it was worse for her because she knew just how different this situation might have been if she’d been able to tell him the truth! Yet how could she do that when she had no idea what the consequences might be?
If Stephen had been the boy she had fallen in love with ten years ago then she would have told him—here, now, this very second. But he wasn’t.
Stephen Hunter, the father of her child, was a stranger now. And it terrified her to imagine what Stephen might do if he ever found out that Jamie was his son!
‘Where are we going?’
It had taken some time to work their way out of the traffic. Rachel had sat silently, engrossed in her own painful thoughts, while Stephen negotiated the busy roads. Now they had left the town behind, she suddenly realised, and were heading for the open country.
Stephen barely spared her a glance as he increased the car’s speed until the hedges became just a green blur. ‘To my house. We’ll be there in a few minutes.’
‘Your house?’ Rachel could hear the shock in her voice. She glanced in panic through the window but the rain was still falling steadily, making it impossible to tell where they were. All she knew was that the last thing she wanted was to go to Stephen’s home!
‘I don’t think that’s a good idea, Stephen. Please take us back into town. Jamie and I have a train to catch and...’
‘And a long wait ahead of you by the look of it.’ He smiled thinly, his hands steady and confident on the wheel, his eyes centred on the grey ribbon of road ahead. ‘It will be hours before the trains are running again. What exactly do you intend to do until then? Stand around getting soaked?’
He shot a quick glance in the mirror at the child sitting silently in the back and his mouth tightened. ‘I suggest you think about your son. He looks in no fit state to stand around in the rain.’
Rachel’s face flamed at the criticism, but when she turned to glance at Jamie she was forced to swallow the angry retort. The child didn’t look well, his face sickly white, his eyes almost black in contrast. Reaching out, Rachel laid her hand on Jamie’s forehead, shocked to feel how hot his skin was.
‘Aren’t you feeling well, darling?’ she asked softly.
Jamie shook his head. ‘I feel funny. Sort of hot—and my head hurts.’
‘Why didn’t you say so?’ Rachel frowned. ‘You should have told me you were feeling poorly.’
Jamie bit his lip and glanced pointedly at the man behind the wheel. ‘You said we had to leave. I thought you’d be cross.’
‘Oh, Jamie!’
Rachel sighed and squeezed Jamie’s hand. She turned back to face the road then flushed as she caught the look in Stephen’s eyes. Stephen knew why she had been so desperate to leave! She waited for him to pass some pithy comment, but surprisingly his tone was almost gentle as he spoke to Jamie.
‘When we get to my house I’ll have my housekeeper give you something to ease your headache. Just try to rest for now, there’s a good boy.’ Stephen glanced at Rachel and his voice hardened. ‘I imagine it’s the fright he had when you two got separated which has upset him.’
‘Perhaps. But I really don’t see any need for you to go to all this trouble, Stephen. You must have far more important things to do. If you would just take us back to the station, I’m sure the trains will be running shortly.’
‘I’m sure they will. However, it wasn’t just coincidence that I saw you this morning. I went to the station specifically to find you.’ Stephen must have seen her surprise because he smiled thinly. ‘A neighbour told me that was where you’d gone. She’d seen you leaving with your case and put two and two together.’
‘But why?’ Rachel cleared her throat, feeling her heart start to hammer in sudden nervous anticipation. ‘What did you want to see me about?’
Stephen glanced pointedly in the mirror. ‘Perhaps it would be better if we wait until later to discuss that, Rachel.’
Rachel knew he was right; with Jamie listening this was hardly the time to demand an explanation. Yet the more she thought about it the more uneasy she became. Stephen would never have gone to the trouble of following her to the station if he hadn’t considered it to be important that he speak to her. But what was it about?
‘Here we are.’
Stephen turned the car between tall stone pillars which marked the entrance to a long driveway. Rachel stared through the window, experiencing a sudden curiosity to see where he lived despite her initial reluctance to come. However, it was only as they rounded a bend in the driveway that she suddenly realised which house it was.
Rachel felt the colour drain from her face as they drew up. She heard Stephen cut the engine then open his door, but everything seemed to be happening from a distance as she sat there and stared at the house with disbelieving eyes.
She had been here only once before, many years ago, with Stephen, but she recognised the house immediately, despite the fact that there had been many dramatic changes made to it. Then the house had been little more than a ruin, having fallen into that state after the death of its elderly owner, a former prima ballerina.
She and Stephen had been out for a walk when they had come across the house by chance, and Rachel had been persuaded to climb the crumbling wall by much gentle teasing from Stephen. Hand in hand they had wandered the overgrown grounds, and then Stephen had found a window hanging open and they had gone inside the house.
The place had echoed with the sound of their footsteps, the dust and dirt lying thickly everywhere. Yet despite its condition there had been a beauty about the old house which even the grime and decay couldn’t detract from.
They had examined each of the rooms in turn, then made love in one of the empty bedrooms, the sunlight spilling through the dusty window falling on their two bodies as they lay entwined in each other’s arms. And afterwards, as Rachel had bent and kissed him, her eyes adoring, she had whispered, ‘If we ever have a house then this is the one I want, Stephen. This one...no other...’
‘Ready, Rachel?’
The sound of her own voice receded into the past. Rachel stared at Stephen, the shock still rippling through her body, the questions pounding inside her head. Why had Stephen bought this house when he could have had his pick? Had he...had he been influenced by the memory of what had happened here that day?
Her brain spun as she tried to make sense of something which made so little, yet which filled her with a breathless kind of hope. Maybe, just maybe that was the answer...?
‘Are you coming in, Rachel, or do you intend to sit there all day?’
Stephen’s voice was full of impatience and nothing more. Rachel searched his face for one long moment as the world seemed to hold its breath, waiting, then slowly she got out of the car and walked past him, and the fragile bud of hope died a painful death.
Stephen watched her go, his hand tightening around the keys he held until they bit into his palm. He was glad of the pain. Slowly he eased his grip, felt the tension which had beset him seep away to leave him oddly deflated.
What had he hoped for in bringing Rachel here?
He could tell himself that he’d had little choice, that they could hardly discuss what needed to be discussed in the street—especially in the state Rachel had been in before—that taking Rachel back to the office would have aroused the kind of speculation he preferred to avoid! All that made sense enough but it wasn’t the truth, not the whole truth, Stephen knew.
Had he chosen to bring Rachel to this house today so that she would recall what had happened here all those years ago? And if she remembered, what then? Exactly what had he been hoping for?
Stephen slammed the car door, his mouth twisting with self-mockery as he shot another look at Rachel’s rigid back, at the child standing by her side. What he and Rachel had shared was long past; the boy was all the proof he needed of that. Frankly, that was the only thing either of them needed to remember!
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/jennifer-taylor/rachel-s-child/) на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.