by Anne Mather
Rafe looked down at the can he was holding before placing it carefully on the low table near by. Then he leant against the cushions behind him, arms along the back of the sofa, one ankle resting on his knee. ‘Was that why you ran away?’ he asked mildly. ‘Wasn’t that a rather childish thing to do?’
‘I didn’t run away.’ Juliet was indignant. ‘I never wanted to attend the reading of the will in the first place, and you weren’t interested in anything I had to say. I would have liked to say goodbye to Josie, but you and she were talking to the solicitor. I just walked into the village and called a taxi. I already had a ticket for the train back to London.’
Rafe’s eyes smouldered a little. ‘Did you travel with Cary?’
‘No!’ She gazed at him warily. ‘Did he tell you that I had?’
Rafe shrugged. ‘He might have said something,’ he responded carelessly. ‘I gather you’ve seen him. Despite your protestations, my cousin appears to play some part in your life still.’
‘That’s not true.’ Juliet sighed. ‘If you must know, he came to ask me to lend him the rings your grandmother left me.’ And at his narrowing brows, ‘I didn’t do it. I couldn’t. I was afraid that if I’d let him have them, I’d never see them again.’
‘Ain’t that the truth?’ Rafe was sarcastic. ‘My God, that man has no shame.’
Juliet considered a moment, and then she said, ‘I think he doesn’t believe I have any right to the rings. And, in all honesty, neither do I.’
‘That’s rubbish and you know it.’ Rafe got to his feet again, looking down at her with a dark, disturbing intensity. ‘The old lady wanted you to have them. All of them.’ He put his hand into his back pocket and brought out the velvet box she recognised as being the one she’d sent to him. ‘Including this.’
When he flicked the lid on the box, Juliet saw the Burmese ruby nestling on its white satin bed. It sparkled with a life of its own, its circlet of what she now realised must be real diamonds catching and reflecting the light.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ he said, with a peculiar huskiness in his voice. ‘Here.’ He held the box out. ‘Take it.’
‘No.’ Juliet shook her head and deliberately thrust her hands behind her back. Rafe guessed she was unaware that in doing so, she’d proved to him she wasn’t wearing a bra. ‘It’s yours,’ she added, a little of the tension that had been between them in the cemetery sharpening her words. ‘It was your mother’s ring. No one has more right to it than you do. That’s why I sent it back.’
Rafe tried to ignore the hardening in his groin and concentrate on what she’d said. ‘So it wasn’t just because it was my mother’s ring?’
‘No.’ Nothing could be further from the truth.
He arched an enquiring brow. ‘Then, perhaps you sent it back in the hope that I’d return it personally.’
‘No.’ She was indignant now. ‘I wouldn’t give you that satisfaction.’ She paused. ‘Besides, Cary told me that you and—Lady Holderness were—very close.’
‘Oh, really?’ Rafe was impatient. ‘I might have expected something like that from him, but not from you.’
‘Why not?’ But she coloured in embarrassment just the same. ‘You can’t deny she knew her way round your apartment. And as for those pictures—’
‘The sketches, you mean?’ Rafe gave a weary shake of his head. ‘I told you about them. She wanted me to paint her portrait for her husband’s sixtieth birthday. It was intended to be a surprise. What was I supposed to do? Refuse the commission?’
Juliet caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘So did you do it? Paint her portrait, I mean?’
‘Yes.’ He shrugged. ‘I finished it and she presented it to her husband. Apparently he was delighted, so it’s not a secret any more.’
Juliet sighed. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah, so am I.’
‘You can’t deny she—well, she likes you.’
‘And I like her. In small doses. Juliet, when I agreed to paint her portrait I hadn’t even met you.’
‘I know.’ Juliet felt ashamed. She glanced towards the lobby. ‘The drawing you brought—it’s very good.’
‘So you’re not going to tear it up the minute I walk out the door.’
‘No!’ She was appalled.
‘You sent back the ring.’
‘And you know why.’
‘Whatever Cary says?’
‘Whatever Cary says,’ she said fiercely. ‘Cary’s a liar. I know that now.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Rafe closed the velvet box again and placed it on the table beside the empty can. ‘But then, he wanted me to fund his overdraft by allowing him to sell the ring. As compensation, as he put it, for depriving him of his inheritance.’
Juliet shook her head. ‘But you didn’t. Deprive him, I mean.’
‘I know. But, like you, I felt some guilt for the way the old lady had treated him.’
Juliet shrugged. ‘Most people would consider two hundred thousand pounds more than generous.’
‘Yes.’ Rafe pulled a wry face. ‘But all things are relative, I suppose, and nobody said Cary was cheap.’
Juliet twisted her hands together. ‘So?’
‘So I offered him the studio and the apartment above it. I said he could either use it as a holiday rental or sell it. I won’t need it. I’m having the old coach-house studio where I used to work updated, and I’ll be living at Tregellin from now on. Josie says she’ll stay until I decide on her replacement. What with all the renovations and such, I couldn’t do without her.’
Juliet hesitated. ‘So how are you—?’ She broke off abruptly. ‘Forget I said that. It’s nothing to do with me.’
‘How am I financing the renovations?’ guessed Rafe shrewdly, and Juliet coloured. ‘Remember the safety-deposit box old Arnold mentioned?’ And at her unwilling nod, ‘It contained dozens of investment bonds that the old lady had had since my grandfather died. Arnold said I should cash them in and I did. There was tax to pay, of course, but even so there’s more than enough money to restore Tregellin and finance its upkeep for a considerable number of years.’
Juliet’s shoulders sagged. ‘Well—good. I’m so glad everything’s working out for you.’
‘Are you?’ She was totally unprepared for him to run a slightly unsteady hand over her hot cheek. ‘Do you have any real idea of why I came here? Do you know how grateful I was when you returned the ring and I had an excuse to come and see you?’
Juliet quivered. ‘Did you need an excuse?’
‘After what happened on the day of the funeral? I think so.’
Juliet’s nails dug into her palms. ‘You were only saying what you thought of me—’
‘No!’ He shook his head. ‘No, I wasn’t.’
‘Yes.’ She licked her lips. ‘And I don’t blame you. What I did was unforgivable—’
‘Juliet—’
‘I’m sorry, OK? My only excuse is that at the time I was pretty desperate—’
‘As I am now,’ Rafe broke in harshly, capturing her startled face between his hands and gazing down at her with frustrated eyes. ‘My darling, listen to me. I’ve regretted every word of what I said a hundred times over. Yes, I was angry with you; yes, I believed you and Cary were still together; and yes, I was blind with jealousy. But it had been a rough couple of months for me and seeing you with Cary just tore me up.’
‘I understand.’ Juliet gazed up at him. ‘Your grandmother’s death must have been a terrible shock for you.’
‘Yeah, it was.’ Rafe sighed. ‘I really loved that old lady. But it wasn’t just that. Before she died, she told me that my mother’s death hadn’t been an accident as I’d always thought. She said—she said my mother committed suicide. That when she fell from that balcony, it was a deliberate thing.’
Juliet gasped. ‘But how could she know something like that? I thought they were estranged.’
‘They were.’ Rafe nodded. ‘But she wrote to the old lady the day before she died, asking her if she
’d look after me.’
‘Oh, Rafe!’
‘Yeah.’ His lips twisted. ‘I guess it’s not what you expected to hear either.’ He paused. ‘Does it make a difference?’
Juliet swallowed. ‘A difference to what?’
‘What do you think?’ He shook his head. ‘You must know I care about you.’ He expelled an unsteady breath. ‘Dear God, Juliet, I’m in love with you.’
Juliet could hardly speak. But her hands came up to cover his. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
‘You could say you feel the same,’ he ventured softly. His eyes dipped to her mouth. ‘Do you know how much I want to kiss you at this moment? Let me kiss you. You don’t know it, but you have the most incredible mouth…’
This last was said against her lips, his breath filling her mouth with his taste, his scent. His hands cradled her head, holding her still while his tongue invaded and caressed, showing her how much he needed her with this simple act of love.
And Rafe was a past master at lovemaking. She knew that. But this time he touched her with love, with reverence, and when his finger sought the hem of her T-shirt she was eager to help him. Her insides turned to liquid as he stroked her, his tongue possessing first one swollen nipple and then the other. She was trembling in his arms. She’d longed so much for him to hold her again, and her husky whisper of, ‘Of course I love you,’ was almost inaudible against his throat.
But he heard her.
‘You’ve no idea how desperate I’ve been since you left Tregellin,’ he said, pulling her closer, letting her feel what her urgent confession had done to him. ‘I really thought I’d blown it with you and you didn’t even know about my mother. God, I haven’t slept since you left me. Not to mention the fact I thought you and Cary were still together.’
‘We were never together,’ Juliet told him fiercely, twining her fingers in his dark hair. ‘You do believe me, don’t you? And I’m sorry about your mother, but grateful, too. If you’d still been living in Italy, we might never have met.’
‘I believe you,’ he assured her, his voice thickening as the blood rushed hotly into his groin. A moan vibrated in his chest and he gathered her against him. ‘But, dear God, can we save any more explanations until later? I want you, I want to be inside you. Is that a concept you can recognise at all?’
Juliet’s lips parted in a delicious smile. ‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘I think so.’ She paused a moment. ‘Would you like to see where I sleep?’
‘So long as you understand I don’t have sleeping in mind,’ said Rafe ruefully. Then he grinned. ‘OK, show me. Perhaps I’ll think of something else to show you.’
The windows were open in Juliet’s bedroom and the muted sounds from the street outside drifted softly on the air. She would have closed the curtains, but Rafe wouldn’t let her. ‘If anyone wants to watch, let them,’ he murmured huskily. ‘I love you, Juliet. We’ve got nothing to hide.’
They undressed each other, slowly at first, but then with an increasing urgency. Juliet’s T-shirt and shorts were easy, but it took her slightly longer to unfasten his belt and unzip his trousers.
‘Juliet, let me,’ he said, his hands shaking a little as he pushed the jeans down his thighs. ‘I’ve had more experience than you,’ he added, and she cast him a knowing look. ‘Not as much as you think,’ he assured her as she knelt on the bed in front of him. ‘And I’ve never said I love a woman before. Except the old lady, of course. But she was something else.’
His mouth on hers was warm and urgent, his hands taking possession of her breasts, his thumbs rubbing sensuously over the hardened peaks. ‘You are so beautiful,’ he said, regarding her with such reverence that she was humbled. ‘I can’t believe I let you leave without telling you how I feel about you. My only excuse is, I didn’t know you’d gone until afterwards.’
Juliet looped her arms about his neck. ‘I couldn’t wait to get away,’ she confessed. ‘I was so sure you must hate and despise me. I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had. I hated and despised myself.’
Rafe gave a wry smile. ‘And how did you feel about me?’
Her eyes widened. ‘Need you ask?’
‘I think so.’ Rafe nodded. ‘After the way I’d behaved.’
‘Oh.’ She drew back to rest her forehead against his, her smile gentle, her breath warm against his face. ‘I think I’ve been in love with you since that first morning at Tregellin. You and Hitchins came to greet us and I thought you were the most attractive couple I’d ever seen.’
Rafe arched his dark brows. ‘Are you sure about that? Hitchins wasn’t exactly welcoming.’
Juliet giggled. ‘No, he wasn’t.’ She frowned. ‘Where is he, by the way? I’m sort of fond of that little dog.’
‘He’s at Tregellin. Where he belongs,’ said Rafe, and circled her lips with his tongue. ‘You’ll see him soon enough. He’s an amazingly good judge of character.’
But then he couldn’t wait any longer. Bearing her back against the pillows, he buried his face between her breasts. ‘I love you. So much,’ he said, moving over her. ‘Don’t ever leave me again. I don’t think I could bear it. I’ve filled the house with pictures of you, but they’re not good enough. Nothing…’ his voice sank to a sensual whisper ‘…nothing compares to the real thing…’
EPILOGUE
JULIET’S first Christmas at Tregellin was the happiest she’d ever known. She and Rafe had decorated the old house together, and branches of holly and mistletoe added their own particular aromas to the delicious scent of pine from the huge tree that stood in the hall.
They’d been married in October. The vicar had presided over the service at the small church in Tregellin village with just a dozen or so of their closest friends as witnesses. Then they’d spent a heavenly couple of weeks on an island in the Indian Ocean, before returning to the newly renovated Tregellin House and the life they would share together.
To begin with, Rafe had wanted her to give up her job and go back with him in the summer. But, although it had been a great temptation, she’d decided to complete her computer course. Besides, although he’d told her he loved her, she’d been half-afraid the emotional storm of Lady Elinor’s passing had left him feeling vulnerable. She was so worried he’d regret being so impulsive when he’d had time to think.
Of course, she’d been completely wrong. Rafe had spent the subsequent three months travelling back and forth between Tregellin and London whenever his work permitted. He became such a frequent visitor at the apartment that old Mrs Heaton had asked if he’d moved in. ‘Given half a chance,’ Rafe had assured her humorously, and Juliet had found herself blushing furiously when he’d looked her way.
Since their return from honeymoon, Juliet had virtually taken over the running of the estate. Her newly acquired computer skills had enabled her to format all the accounts, and Rafe had been more than willing to leave the organisation to her.
His own career was going from strength to strength. Several commissions had followed on from his portrait of Lady Holderness, and his talent was being recognised by other galleries around the country. He had so much work that he’d had to cut back on the hours he’d spent teaching, but Juliet was always his first consideration.
As far as they knew, Cary was living in New York these days. He’d left England just after their wedding, leaving a stack of debts behind. Rafe had attended to most of them, despite his solicitor’s disapproval. But afterwards, he’d confessed to Juliet that he’d done it for Lady Elinor, not himself.
Then, in January, two things happened that would have an impact on their lives.
The first was that Juliet discovered she was pregnant. She and Rafe had never discussed when they might start a family, and she was a little tentative when she broke the news to him. But Rafe was delighted, if a little anxious about her reaction. ‘Do you mind?’ he asked her honestly. ‘I have to admit, I haven’t always been as diligent about using protection as I should.’
‘Oh, darling!’ Juliet wound her
arms around his neck and pressed the whole length of her warm body against him. ‘I couldn’t be more pleased. I can imagine nothing more satisfying than knowing I have your baby growing inside me. Can you?’
Of course, Rafe took pains to assure her he agreed and by the time they went downstairs again the afternoon was half over. It was snowing outside, the fluffy kind of snow they’d hoped to have for Christmas, and they spent some time watching the flakes falling over the estuary from the windows of the conservatory.
‘Just think,’ murmured Rafe, drawing his wife’s still slim body back against him. ‘Next winter, there’ll be three of us.’ He nuzzled her neck as his hands caressed the slight mound of her stomach. ‘So I suppose I should make the most of having you to myself.’
The second thing that happened was totally different.
Towards the end of the month, when Juliet was beginning to suffer the effects of morning sickness, she got a letter from her father’s solicitors. It informed her that her ex-husband, David Hammond, had died in George Town in Grand Cayman. He had apparently developed a virulent form of cancer six months ago, and he had made a will making her his only beneficiary.
To say Juliet was stunned would have been an understatement. The letter had arrived as she was making an early-morning cup of tea and she’d had to sit down for a few moments before she could go on. Although Josie still worked part-time at the house, her niece, Connie Boswell, had taken over much of the housework. However, both women were not due to arrive before nine o’clock, so Juliet usually enjoyed this time on her own.
Now, however, she set the cups and teapot on the tray and carried it upstairs to her husband. Despite the efficient heating system, it was still chilly, and she was glad when she could shed her robe and tumble back into bed.
‘Mmm, you’re freezing,’ Rafe groaned as she curled her cold feet around his legs. ‘Come here. Let me warm you.’
