by Penny Jordan
She had just finished pointing out that since Mandy herself had been allowed a bar of chocolate earlier in the week even though she hadn’t been able to eat her sprouts, it was hardly fair to demand now that Simon be deprived of his treat simply because he disliked carrots, when Alec and James came into the kitchen, the dog at their heels. The labrador made straight for Simon, tongue lolling as she sat expectantly at his side, eyeing the despised carrots with a hopeful gleam in sherry brown eyes.
Alec pounced on his son, drawing shrill screams of pleasure from the little boy as his father hoisted him on to his shoulder.
‘Alec you’ll make him sick, he’s only just finished eating,’ Sue protested. ‘Put him down.’
Simon was engrossed in the dog, Sue and Alec in their son. At the opposite end of the table, Mandy, sturdy independent Mandy, glanced from her high stool down to the floor and then hopefully, enchantingly up at James’s lean height. Tara felt a huge lump come into her throat, and something raw and painful turned over in her breast.
‘Mandy—’ she began warningly, but it was already too late. Mandy had turned to James, a winsome smile planting dimples either side of her upturned mouth, her arms stretching upwards imperiously.
Tara’s heart quaked for her small, 5.0 vulnerable daughter. Never in all her six years had Mandy ever made the slightest gesture of appeal to a member of the despised male sex, and Tara wished with all her heart that she had not chosen to make her first to James Harvey of all people.
She saw James step forward and then grimace, his eyes hooded and unreadable as he turned away from the small girl.
Mandy’s face dropped, tears filling her eyes and, her maternal instincts up in arms, Tara rushed forward, clasping Mandy in her arms and swinging her down to the floor, her expression bitter with indignation and contempt as her eyes clashed hotly with James’s.
Later when they were getting the children ready for bed, Sue, who had obviously witnessed the incident, said uncertainly, ‘I can’t understand what’s come over James. He’s always seemed so fond of children.’
‘As long as they’re not mine,’ Tara supplied acidly.
‘I just don’t understand it,’ Sue repeated. ‘It’s so out of character.’
Not as far as she was concerned, Tara reflected grimly. Unlike Sue she was under no delusions as to James’s true character. Behind that handsome face, that virilely male body lay nothing but an arid desert incapable of supporting any real emotion.
She dressed for dinner reluctantly. At best it could only be an awkward meal. Sue was already aware of the emnity which existed between her two guests; and Tara could not forgive James for the way he had deliberately turned his back on Mandy—on his own child. She tugged impatiently at her hair, anger sparkling in the jade depths of her eyes as she applied eye-shadow and mascara.
Sue had said that while they invariably changed for dinner when they were in the country it was only into clothes they could relax in, and with this in mind Tara elected to wear a dress which had been one of the ‘free samples’ she had been given by one of the fashion houses. Designed along the lines of an Eastern kimono, the heavy cream silk was embroidered delicately with flowers and butterflies in soft iridescent colours that caught the light whenever Tara moved.
The gown was tied with a matching sash and secured by hidden press-studs. Tara had worn it on several occasions and felt extremely comfortable in it. Fastening her hair into a smooth chignon, she checked her appearance again in the mirror before stroking her throat and wrists with Van Cleef’s ‘First’, a Christmas present from Chas, and then feeling that she had done all she could to prepare herself for the evening ahead, Tara slipped on a pair of high-heeled gold sandals and opened her bedroom door. Her heart dropped as she saw James on the point of leaving his room. A narrow-fitting velvet jacket and narrow tapering dark trousers added to his height, emphasising the subtle play of muscles beneath the tailored fabric. He paused as he saw Tara approach, his eyes moving slowly over her body.
Tara felt as though she were frozen to the spot, completely incapable of moving, forced to suffer the hated subjugation to his will as his glance stroked mercilessly over every inch of her body, leaving her nerve endings acutely sensitised to the aura of raw maleness emanating from him. An electric silence seemed to spread out around them, even the sound of her own heartbeat unnaturally loud in her ears.
Somewhere in the distance Tara registered the opening of a door, and then Sue’s voice shattered the silence, her generous,
‘Tara, you look fantastic—where did you get that gorgeous creation from?’ restoring some semblance of normality to the atmosphere. Drawing a shuddering breath, Tara managed to find the coherency to explain how she had come by her gown.
‘A perk?’ James sneered openly. ‘And that satisfies you? Being paid for your services with a handful of cast-off dresses? My dear, you’ve sold yourself cheap indeed.’
‘James!’ Sue looked shocked and upset. ‘Tara, I’m…’
‘Forget it,’ Tara told her, forcing a smile. ‘Contrary to what James seems to suppose, Chas pays me for my work,’ she emphasised the word deliberately, ‘in the usual coinage—and neither am I his mistress, paid or otherwise. Even if I wanted to have an affair with Chas, I wouldn’t,’ she added for good measure. ‘I’ve got the twins to think about, and I happen to think that children learn best by example.’
‘Very noble,’ James sneered. ‘Quite a metamorphosis. When did it come about?’
‘James…’
There was no mercy in the look he turned upon Tara, when Sue murmured his name James’s expression softened, his arm coming round her shoulders in an affectionate gesture that filled Tara with a welter of conflicting emotions.
‘Don’t look so worried,’ he told her. ‘Tara’s tougher than you think. Aren’t you?’
There was no kindness in the dark blue eyes as they held her captive and to her horror Tara felt tears burning the back of her throat.
She managed to make some brittle comment, something cynical and mocking which brought an uncertain smile to Sue’s lips, and as though that exchange had set the tone for the evening it passed in a state of armed guardedness which made Tara’s skin prickle with tension. And to think she had come away this weekend to try and relax! She was beginning to think she might have been better off with Chas after all. Her expression must have betrayed her, because Alec teased suddenly, ‘Where did you go—you looked almost wistful?’
‘I was thinking of Chas,’ Tara said without thinking. ‘I was supposed to spend the weekend with him.’ She was about to add that they had been going to work when she saw James’s cynical grimace, contempt darkening his eyes as he murmured for her ears alone, ‘What was that you were saying before dinner? It’s always advisable when you tell lies to at least remember some of them.’
‘Thanks,’ Tara replied sweetly in the same low voice. ‘I take it you’re speaking with the benefit of experience.’
It was worse, far worse than she had imagined it could be, she acknowledged shakily when they were all sitting in the drawing room. Alec had insisted on pouring her a large brandy, and that, on top of the wine they had had with the meal, had combined to make her feel distinctly lightheaded. Tomorrow the first thing she was going to do was to make some excuse for returning home. There was simply no way she could endure another twenty-four hours in James’s company. How dare he look at her with such contempt and loathing, such derision, when she was the one with the grievance, with the right to feel those emotions? Tara drank her brandy slowly. The rich warm liquid fired the anger burning up inside her. Quite when anger turned to drowsiness she didn’t know. One moment she had been listening in a desultory fashion to the conversation between Alec and James. Alec, it was apparent, held James in high regard—Sue had gone to see Mrs Barnes about the arrangements for breakfast—and the next waves of drowsiness were sweeping over her, drowning out the low hum of male voices until consciousness faded.
In some dim and distant
fashion Tara was aware of being lifted and carried, of a warm comforting sound against her ear, like the echo of a sea-shell found on the beach. For the first time in years she felt warm and safe. She murmured something in her sleep, curling inwards to the source of the warmth, muttering protestingly as the warmth was removed.
‘Tara.’ The coolly firm male voice was familiar and not to be ignored. Reluctantly she opened her eyes, shock widening them and darkening the pupils to jade as she realised that she was lying fully dressed on her bed with James leaning over her.
‘Relax,’ he told her sardonically as she tensed and edged away. ‘You’re quite safe.’ The cynical look in his eyes brought a vivid flush of colour to her pale cheeks. ‘Or perhaps that’s it,’ James said softly, studying her rich colour with hard eyes. ‘Perhaps you don’t want to be safe, eh, Tara?’
‘Get out of my room.’ Even to her own ears her voice sounded shaky rather than firm. ‘Just get out,’ she reiterated huskily.
When he had gone she lay staring at the ceiling, forcing herself not to remember how it had felt to be held in his arms, but the moment she closed her eyes it swept over her in shuddering waves; the sensation of being held close to him, of being safe. With a tortured groan Tara rolled over, trying to blot out the memories.
* * *
‘After we’ve had breakfast, I’m going to take Misty for a walk by the lake,’ Simon announced proudly over his cornflakes. Tara smiled at him, mentally wondering just what sort of pressure she was going to be subjected to once they got home concerning the addition of a puppy to their household.
‘Oh, that reminds me, James,’ Sue murmured, ‘There was a phone call for you this morning.’ She pulled a slight face as she turned to Tara, ‘A neighbour of ours, who seems to have attached herself to James.’
‘Yes, I believe we met her yesterday,’ Tara responded, allowing herself a tight smile. ‘They make a very… well matched couple.’
She could tell that James was looking at her, but she refused to return it. Much to her amazement Mandy, despite James’s rejection of her the previous evening, was doing her level best to engage his attention.
Tara watched them out of the corner of her eye, burningly resentful when James tried to ignore Mandy’s beguiling smiles. Was it because Mandy was her daughter? she wondered bitterly. Poor little Mandy, she had no idea of her handicap.
‘I’m going for a walk after breakfast,’ Mandy announced to James. ‘Do you like going for walks?’
‘Mr Harvey is far too busy to go for walks with little girls,’ Tara interrupted hastily, trying to divert Mandy’s attention, but the little girl clung to the subject like a limpet.
‘Why not?’ she demanded with enquiring eyes. ‘Doesn’t he like little girls?’
‘She certainly knows how to load her questions, doesn’t she?’ Sue murmured under her breath to Tara. ‘And will you look at James? Game, set and match to Mandy in one go, I believe!’
A sudden wail from Piers saved James from having to reply, and watching him hold the little boy as Sue retrieved the toy her son had flung to the floor, Tara felt a sharp pain stabbing through her. While his own children were ignored and unwanted James lavished time and affection on Susan’s little boy. Telling herself that she was being ridiculous, Tara got up abruptly. She was glad James would be going out, that would make it much easier for her to make her excuses to Sue and leave early. She could pack their things while the twins went for their walk.
‘Don’t worry about them, they’ll be quite safe in the garden,’ Sue assured her.
From her window Tara had an excellent view of the garden and the attractive lily-strewn pool. Guessing that Sue would be busy with her son for some time after breakfast, she decided to wait for half an hour or so before broaching the subject of their departure. She was packing the twins’ case when something drew her to the window. Glancing out of it, she studied the countryside. One could forget how fresh and green everything was, living in London. If her dream ever came true and she was able to set up her own business it would be somewhere quiet; some small market town where Simon could have a dog and… A dog! Her heart suddenly thudded heavily as she saw Misty rushing excitedly into the pool after an inaccurately thrown stick. The dog was paddling vigorously, its golden tail sweeping the still water. A terrible sense of dread suddenly swept over Tara, and her blood turned to ice as some sixth sense kept her glued to the window, sick terror rising up inside her as she saw Mandy’s familiar dungaree-clad frame wading purposefully after the dog. She opened her window and called, but it was obvious that the little girl couldn’t hear her.
Filled with sick panic, Tara flung open her door and ran swiftly downstairs. The dog had been swimming, not paddling, and Mandy wasn’t much taller than the labrador.
Thoughts, wild and terrible, flashed through her mind in the precious minutes it took her to race down the path towards the lake, her heart pounding like a drum, the same refrain falling over and over again from tense lips, ‘Please God, don’t let any harm come to her, please, please God!’
Sue and Alec, alerted by her frantic race through the house, were somewhere behind her, but when Tara reached the pool there was no sign of the blue dungarees or the dark-haired little girl. Fear clawed at her, icy terror flooding through her veins.
‘Mum, over here!’ She responded automatically to Simon’s high-pitched cry, turning towards the sound.
Some bushes shielded him from her view. She pushed past them, careless of scratches on her arms and legs. Simon was standing on the grass behind the bushes. Lying at his side was a wet and obviously chastened Misty and several yards away lay a tiny limp figure like a boneless rag doll, a tall man on his haunches beside her, jeans plastered wetly to his legs as he bent over her tiny figure.
‘Mandy!’
The cry was torn from her lips, as Sue and Alec reached her, Sue’s arm going protectively round her shoulders.
‘James?’
There was an urgent question in Alec’s voice as he hurried across the grass.
‘She’s all right,’ James assured them without turning. ‘Just shocked and frightened. She didn’t realise the water was so deep. She saw Misty go in…’
Tara shuddered and broke free of Sue to go and kneel beside Mandy’s prone form. ‘I know,’ she said huskily. ‘I saw it all from my window; I guessed what was going to happen, but there wasn’t a thing I could do…’
‘Mandy wanted to get Misty’s stick,’ Simon interpolated in an uncertain voice. ‘It was floating away.’
How many times had she warned them against the dangers of water? Tara wondered tiredly, but it was no use blaming the twins. The blame was hers. If anything had happened to Mandy! She shuddered deeply. If she hadn’t been so wrapped up in her own thoughts, so selfishly determined to put as much distance between James and herself as she could… Mandy stirred and opened her eyes.
‘Mandy!’ Tears rose in Tara’s eyes, as her self-control threatened to give way. ‘I’ll take her upstairs,’ she began, but it was James who lifted the slight body in his arms, his eyes unexpectedly tender, before he veiled his expression from her with lashes which she had always maintained were far too thick and long for any man.
‘There’s no need—’ she began formally, but Mandy herself overruled her by murmuring huskily, ‘No, Mummy, I want James to carry me.’
Upstairs in the twins’ bedroom James placed Mandy carefully on the bed.
‘I’ll get Doctor Lewis out just to take a look at her,’ Sue announced.
The blue dungarees were filthy and soaking, and Tara stripped them off, running a bath in the adjacent bathroom. A subdued and worried Simon had crept into the room and was sitting down watching Mandy’s pale face.
James turned to go, but Mandy started to protest so much that he turned back.
‘I want James to give me, my bath,’ Mandy announced. There was a hectic flush on her cheeks, and fresh alarm flared as Tara saw it.
‘James has got to go out,’ Tara rem
inded her. ‘And you haven’t thanked him yet for rescuing you. I still don’t understand how you managed to get there before me,’ she told him. ‘I was watching from my bedroom.’
‘So was I,’ James told her grimly, ‘but I used the backstairs—much quicker. It’s all right,’ he told her when Mandy made another plea for his company, ‘I’m not going out, as it happens. Come on, young lady!’ He scooped Mandy up in his arms and, watching him, Tara could almost have believed she had imagined the dislike with which he had looked at the little girl only the previous day.
When Doctor Lewis arrived he pronounced Mandy to be suffering from nothing more than too much pond water and mild shock. ‘Kids are blessedly resilient,’ he told Tara sympathetically, eyeing her pale cheeks. ‘Far less vulnerable than we tend to think, although they can tend to play up a bit. I dare say they’ll give you more than the odd grey hair before they’re done,’ he added to James with a grin.
Shock wrenched through Tara, her eyes widening and fastening on James’s as he frowned slightly. With every thud of her heart she expected the doctor to comment on the likeness between James and Simon, so absurdly his father in miniature that Tara couldn’t believe James himself couldn’t see it, but to her relief he said nothing. Although when Sue had escorted the doctor back downstairs, Simon frowned consideringly and said questioningly, ‘Why did the doctor think James was our daddy? Doesn’t he know we haven’t got one?’
‘I don’t think he does, darling.’ Tara bent down, ruffling the dark hair, keeping her face deliberately averted from James.
‘I wish we did have a daddy,’ Simon sighed wistfully. ‘If we had a daddy we could live in the country and have a dog.’
‘I can’t honestly see Chas Saunders providing either of those requirements,’ James murmured dulcetly in Tara’s ear as he turned to leave the room. ‘Can you?’
The warmth of his breath against her ear caused her to shiver faintly. Now that the ordeal was over and Mandy was safe reaction had set in. Her legs felt like jelly, the cessation of adrenalin being pumped into her veins inducing a lethargic and shivery sensation that made her long to lie down on her own bed.
