by Penny Jordan
‘You know me so well.’ Despite the laconic drawl, Rafe was showing classic signs of annoyance at that moment.
‘Rafe!’ The voice at her shoulder made Chloe spin around. Her much practised flirtatious smile faded as she absorbed the furious contempt in his eyes. ‘I didn’t see you there.’
‘I know, and just for the record, Chloe, your aunt isn’t a kiss-and-tell sort of lady.’ Rafe didn’t spare her more than a few seconds before he turned his attention to Tess, but the contact had been long enough for Chloe to feel as bad about herself as she ever had allowed herself to.
‘I’ll be off, then,’ Chloe said weakly.
‘Might be a good idea,’ Tess agreed without looking at her niece.
‘Is it true?’ Rafe stepped over the threshold and closed the door firmly behind him.
Tess’s unrealistic hope that he hadn’t been standing there long enough to hear what Chloe had said vanished.
‘I thought you’d gone.’ She picked up a plate from the table and promptly dropped it on the floor where it smashed into a thousand pieces. ‘Look what you made me do…’ Her voice quivered.
‘I asked you a question.’
‘I chose not to answer it,’ she responded flippantly.
‘Will you stop doing that? You’re going to cut yourself.’ He came up behind her and, arms around her narrow ribcage, hauled her to her feet. He brushed the tiny fragments of powdery china off her knees before straightening up himself. Placing his fingers beneath her chin, he searched with grim eyes the flushed face she turned reluctantly up to him.
‘I wish you wouldn’t tower over me.’
‘Blame my genes and a well-balanced diet.’
‘Let go of me,’ she whispered shakily.
‘You can’t have children…?’
Tess closed her eyes. ‘That’s right, I’m sterile.’
Or as good as damn it, anyhow! Improbable, but not impossible was the way the doctor who had patiently explained about her condition had put it. He’d gone on to speak at length about IVF and associated treatments, but Tess, who irrationally had felt as if her very femininity had been cast into doubt by the news, hadn’t actually taken in much of what he’d said.
She supposed that it was something she’d just taken for granted…the fact that one day she’d meet someone and they’d have children. She had never actually thought about it and if anyone had asked her she wouldn’t have claimed to be a particularly maternal person. It was only when she’d realised this was never going to happen that she’d known how strong the desire to one day be a mother was.
‘You didn’t tell me.’
This resentful observation wrenched a bitter laugh from her. ‘It isn’t the sort of thing that crops up in conversation very often! By the way, when my appendix burst that time it seems it left me a bit tied up, quite literally.’
Rafe winced. He couldn’t begin to imagine what this sort of thing meant to a woman. ‘How long have you known about it?’
‘About five years.’
The sound of his startled inhalation was audible. ‘So long…?’ he wondered.
‘And, no matter what Chloe implied, it wouldn’t make any difference if I could have a hundred children of my own—no child could replace Ben!’ She glared at him obstinately, daring him to think otherwise.
He swore. ‘I know that, Tess.’
She glared but his dark eyes were kind and caring. Tess felt her antagonism slide away, leaving a raw sadness in its place.
‘I know you know,’ she mumbled indistinctly as with a sigh she finally allowed herself to relax into the embrace and succour his waiting arms offered.
‘You should have told me.’
‘I wish I had,’ she mumbled honestly. Deep down she supposed she’d been afraid that Rafe would look at her differently when he knew.
She didn’t weep, she just held onto him as though her life depended on it. In his turn Rafe stroked her hair, caressed the curve of her spine. It wasn’t the soft, silly things he said that comforted her so much as the reassuring sound of his deep voice.
‘Thanks.’ Feeling suddenly intensely shy, Tess experienced an urgent desire to be released from the strong arms that held her. Rafe seemed to have no trouble interpreting the sudden rigidity in her slender body.
Standing back on her own two feet, she smoothed her hair and avoided his compassionate eyes.
‘You know, maybe it would be better if Chloe does have Ben to live with her and Ian,’ she announced, trying to look at the problem objectively. ‘I’ve never been able to offer Ben a father. A boy needs a man in his life…role model…that sort of thing…’
‘You’ll marry one day and someone who’d be a better role model than that creep Chloe’s got herself involved with.’
Given Rafe’s antagonism to Ian, Tess decided to leave the creep issue well alone. She shook her head firmly. ‘No, I’ll never get married.’
‘You say that now, but when you meet someone…’
It made Tess angry that he was just telling her what he thought she wanted to hear—a pretty pointless exercise when they both knew the reality was that no man would want her once he knew the truth.
‘I said never.’ Her expression hardened. ‘Marriage is all about providing a loving, secure environment for children. That’s why a man gets married.’
‘That’s why women get married,’ he corrected. ‘They’re the practical ones. A man gets married for other reasons.’
‘You really don’t have to try and make me feel better, Rafe. I’ve had a lot of time to get used to the idea and I’m quite realistic about it.’
‘That must account for the saintly aura,’ he snapped.
‘Who made you the expert on what men want?’
His anger continued to confuse her. ‘Well, I’m not, but—’
‘But nothing! I can see that you’ve written yourself this naff script that says you’ve got to be brave and stoical, and quite frankly it makes me want to wring your stupid neck.’
‘I’d noticed,’ she responded faintly.
‘Being a man.’
‘I’d noticed that too.’ On reflection this was a subject it might be better not to pursue.
‘I feel,’ he continued, in no mood to be sidetracked by her interruptions, ‘that I’m slightly better qualified to comment on the subject than you. We get some bad press but most men are thinking about love when they get married, Tess, not good child-bearing hips…’ His eyes slid of their own volition to a point below Tess’s tiny waist. He cleared his throat; it wasn’t the child-bearing qualities or lack of them that made it hard for him to look away.
‘You’re talking about sex. A man doesn’t have to get married to have sex, Rafe. But then I’m not telling you something you didn’t already know, am I?’
‘There’s a difference between sex and love, one which even we shallow men can recognise.’
Tess blinked at the angry intensity of his words. Oh, God, she’d forgotten; he’d loved and lost! It was small wonder that under the circumstances he felt passionate about the subject.
‘Is that why you wanted to get married, Rafe?’
With a frown he brushed aside her slightly wistful question. ‘We’re not discussing me.’
‘That fact seems rather unfair considering we’re having an open day on my most intimate feelings,’ she grumbled.
‘One day I’m sure you’ll find the man who wants you for you, not for what you can provide him with.’
‘A nice thought…’
‘You don’t believe me, do you?’
She folded her arms across her chest and gave him a clear-eyed direct look. ‘Frankly, no. When I told Andrew, he was off as fast as his four-by-four would take him.’ She didn’t add that that had been the desired outcome.
‘You told the vet?’ For some reason the fact that Tess had shared her secret with another man—especially that one—while he had been kept in the dark incensed Rafe.
‘Well, he did propose to me.’
This was going a bit far, considering Rafe had never spoken to Andrew above twice as far as she knew.
‘What is it with you, Rafe?’ she puzzled. ‘Do you take a dislike to any man I like on principle? I thought women were meant to be the irrational ones.’
‘Irrational! Me?’ Rafe looked predictably amazed at the idea.
‘First Andrew and now Ian. The poor man hasn’t done anything but be pleasant.’
‘The poor man is the pathetic type who at the first sign of a receding hairline and expanding waistline—’
‘I didn’t see either on Ian,’ she couldn’t resist interjecting.
‘He spends a sack full of money to make sure you don’t.’
‘God, but you’ve got a cruel tongue.’
‘Stock in trade, angel,’ he admitted unrepentantly. ‘Your Ian has nabbed himself the first nubile young beauty who is stupid, or infatuated enough—in Chloe’s case both—to make himself an object of universal envy. His mates will pat him on the back and call him a hell of a bloke! It’s classic.’
‘It’s a generalization, is what it is,’ she retorted scornfully.
He tried another tack. ‘Are you trying to tell me that you approve of an age gap that dramatic, Tess?’
‘I can see it might be problematic,’ Tess conceded, ‘but it shouldn’t matter when two people are in love.’
‘I always knew you were a closet romantic under all that pragmatism.’ Mockery glittered savagely in his dark eyes.
‘At this point I’m resisting my natural inclination to quote Ben…’ She looked back at him blankly. ‘Mush?’ he reminded her.
‘I don’t blame you for being bitter…’ She cleared her throat, skating delicately around his masculine sensitivity.
‘It’s only natural that you feel a little bit cynical at the moment.’
‘I’m cynical for a living,’ he snarled.
‘There’s no need to sound so proud of it,’ she remonstrated tartly.
‘I take it you fall into the love-conquers-all camp…with one significant exception.’
Confusion flickered across her face. ‘What exception?’
‘Yourself.’
The colour that had only recently returned to her cheeks rapidly receded. ‘That’s different.’
‘Odd,’ he drawled. ‘I rather thought it would be.’
‘And I wouldn’t know, would I, never having been in love?’
He looked thunderstruck by her angry assertion. ‘Never!’
If he knew some of the other things she’d never done, he’d really stare! ‘I’ve no desire to discuss my love life with you. Who asked for your opinion about anything anyhow?’ Her face stiff with defensive disdain, she tossed her head, sending the warm rich strands of hair whipping across her face. ‘For that matter, who asked you to stay?’
‘Perhaps I find your warmth slightly less chilly than the reception I’ll no doubt receive at home.’
His ironic twisted smile aggravated the hell out of her. It wouldn’t have taken much effort to pretend the pleasure of her company had anything to do with it, but why be kind when you could be sarcastic? Wasn’t that just Rafe all over?
‘I don’t know why you insist on fighting with your grandfather. He’s an old man…’
Rafe’s lips twitched. ‘I’ll tell him you said so. The news of his decrepitude should go down nearly as well as the knowledge his death should make it onto the six o’clock news. I thought maybe you could do with a friend around.’ His broad shoulders lifted dismissively. ‘It would seem I was wrong. I’ll make myself scarce.’ He bent to pick up the jacket he’d discarded over the back of a chair the previous evening.
CHAPTER FIVE
‘YOU’RE going…?’ Perversely the thought filled Tess with dismay. Why the panic? It’s not as if I’m not used to being alone.
‘Wasn’t that the idea?’
‘Yes…no…’
Rafe’s dark brows drew into a quizzical line. ‘Are you making me a better offer?’ He’d intended the question to be ironic, then he saw the expression on her face and he grew very still.
Tess’s eyes widened. Am I…? The muscles of her pale smooth throat worked as her lips moved silently. Why not? some inner reckless voice challenged. It’s what you want isn’t it…? It’s what you haven’t stopped thinking about.
‘Well, Tess…?’ he prompted with husky impatience.
‘I don’t think I want to be alone. I’ll just be sitting here…thinking…’ She swallowed. ‘I want what’s best for Ben, but I don’t want to lose him.’ She fought back a sob and caught the pink flesh of her lower lip between her teeth.
‘Do you think I’m very selfish?’ Her wide green eyes fixed on his face.
Rafe swallowed hard. ‘No more than the rest of us. I’ll stay if you want, Tess,’ he agreed hoarsely and was rewarded with a watery smile. ‘But you’ve got to promise me one thing.’
‘What?’
‘Don’t look at me like that!’ he pleaded throatily.
‘I don’t understand…’
‘Men have hormones, Tess, and I’m no exception. Do you hear what I’m saying?’
She heard, all right. She raised her hand and touched the side of his face. It wasn’t an innocent action and she felt a surge of satisfaction when Rafe jerked away.
‘I’ve got hormones too,’ she whispered softly. ‘And I’ve been thinking about what you said before…’ It wasn’t until the confession emerged that she realised just how much she’d been thinking about it.
‘I say a lot of things,’ he reflected grimly. ‘Some more worth listening to than others.’
Was this his way of saying he hadn’t really meant it…he’d just been talking big, safe in the knowledge that she’d never call his bluff? Only a total idiot could fail to recognise that this situation had a potential for humiliation on a big scale, and Tess was no idiot. But she found she’d gone too far to back down now. Besides, a compulsion she didn’t recognise was driving her onwards.
‘I want to…’ Tess swallowed to relieve the aching constriction in her throat. Her eyes shone with unshed tears as she willed herself not to flinch from Rafe’s gaze. ‘I want to forget…I want to feel…’ The words sounded so breathily needy that for a moment she couldn’t believe they’d emerged from her own mouth.
He still hadn’t said anything, which was definitely not a good sign. She wasn’t sure whether it was obstinacy or lunacy that made her stumble on regardless.
‘Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who planted the idea in my head!’ she shouted resentfully. ‘You said we wouldn’t be hurting anyone. You said there was nothing wrong in giving and receiving a little comfort…’ She tried not to think about how flawed she’d found his logic at the time.
Rafe didn’t need reminding of what he’d said any more than he needed telling he couldn’t go through with it if he had any shred of decency left.
‘I could do with a little comfort right now.’ Actually, she reflected, what I actually need is a great dollop of the stuff.
It was the harsh sound of Rafe’s sharp inhalation that finally brought her reckless babble to an abrupt halt. The enormity of what she’d done hit her with the force of a runaway truck.
She didn’t—she couldn’t look at him as she stumbled towards the door. ‘Please, forget I said any of that, it was stupid, I didn’t mean…’ If only that were true, she would feel less cringeingly humiliated.
‘Tess!’
She flinched away from the touch of his hand on her shoulders; the contact was like a jolt of neat electricity running through her body.
‘Don’t think I took any of that stuff you said this morning seriously.’
He couldn’t let her walk away looking like that; perhaps she’d feel better if he confessed he didn’t feel so crash-hot happy himself!
Rafe rapidly discovered that making Tess stop still long e
nough to listen to him—to look at him, even—wasn’t as simple a task as he’d bargained for. She struggled against the light restraint as if her life depended on it. Rafe could hardly credit that anyone who appeared as physically delicate as Tess could be so strong. He was afraid she’d hurt herself, or him—the Marquess of Queensberry would have been shocked out of his wig by her tactics—before she exhausted herself.
‘You’ve got a kick like a mule!’ He winced as her foot made contact for the second time with his shin. ‘You’ll give up before I do…’ he promised.
Tess gave up so abruptly she almost slithered out of his arms onto the floor. It took a couple of seconds for enough strength to return to her legs to enable them to take her weight and when it did she had only one thought in her head…escape!
Rafe’s hands closed around her wrists as she began to back impetuously away from him. He could feel the resistance was purely superficial; her heart was no longer in it. He let her struggle weakly for a moment before jerking her towards him.
‘I’m sorry you don’t believe I meant what I said,’ he grated, speaking from between clenched teeth, ‘because I meant every word of it. There’s nothing I’d like better than to take you to bed, but you’re…’
Was this patent untruth supposed to make her feel better? ‘I’m what, Rafe?’ She stood passively and turned a seething, resentful gaze upon him. ‘Too thin, too ugly, too easy…?’
‘A man doesn’t take advantage when someone is hurting as much as you are. I mean, under normal circumstances would you want to sleep with me? Let alone ask—’ He stopped abruptly.
‘Don’t be squeamish, Rafe, spit it out!’ she recommended bitterly. ‘We both know I asked you to take me to bed. Why,’ she pondered aloud, ‘I decide to change the habit of a lifetime and be spontaneous now, I’ve not the faintest idea.’
‘Emotional trauma will do that to a person.’
‘Let’s leave my emotional trauma out of this for a second, shall we? I’m curious—what man doesn’t take advantage? You?’ Her voice rose to an incredulous squeak. ‘You were perfectly willing to take advantage this morning,’ she jeered.
