Jack Riordan's Baby

by Anne Mather

  ‘Oh, God! Karen must have been so mad!’ Rachel pressed suddenly cold hands to her cheeks. ‘No wonder she—’

  ‘No wonder she—what?’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Tell me!’

  Rachel drew a breath. ‘No wonder she—told me all those lies.’

  ‘What lies?’

  ‘About you; about the cottage. That was how she could describe it all in such detail. She must have been desperate when I told her I didn’t believe her.’

  Jack caught her arm, her skin soft and familiar beneath his hard fingers. ‘You told her you didn’t believe her?’ he echoed roughly. ‘Am I supposed to believe that?’

  ‘It’s the truth.’ Rachel was eager to explain. ‘Oh, I’ll admit I wasn’t sure what to believe at first. But—well, after I’d had time to think about it…’ She looked up at him, her expression open and innocent. ‘I just knew she was lying.’

  ‘So why didn’t you tell me?’

  ‘How could I?’ Rachel spoke appealingly. ‘I—I had the accident, remember? I was pretty shook up for a while. Then—then I heard that you’d come back to England, and you hadn’t even bothered to find out how I was. Lucy said—well, it seemed possible that you didn’t care about me after all.’

  ‘Lucy!’ Jack’s brows drew together as he absorbed what she was saying. ‘Perhaps it would have been easier if she’d told me you’d had the accident before I got back to England, hmm?’

  Rachel nodded. Then, trying to be fair, she added, ‘It wasn’t her fault, really. George—George Thomas, that is—he assured her he’d phoned you.’

  ‘Well, he hadn’t.’

  ‘I know that now. When—when Mrs Grady explained what had happened, I knew I had to see you.’

  Jack’s fingers gentled, his thumb massaging the sensitive veins on the inner side of her arm. ‘Are you sure this isn’t pity?’ he demanded, still not convinced he wasn’t imagining the whole thing. Goodness knew, he’d indulged in self-deception before. Like the night Rachel had taken him to bed…

  ‘Why would I pity you?’ she countered, lifting her hand to stroke the roughening skin of his jawline. ‘I love you,’ she added simply. ‘I’ve never stopped loving you.’

  Jack was stunned. It was what he’d dreamed of, what he’d prayed for, and yet now that it had happened he couldn’t take it in. After everything Karen had done, after all her efforts to split them up, he still couldn’t believe it was over.

  ‘You do still love me?’ Rachel prompted, his continued silence beginning to worry her, and he expelled a shaky breath.

  ‘Need you ask?’ he got out thickly and unable to wait a moment longer, Rachel put her hand behind his head and pulled his face down to hers.

  He needed no second bidding. His lips took possession of hers with a hungry urgency and Rachel leaned into him, opening her mouth like a flower to the sun.

  ‘God,’ he muttered unsteadily as he felt the soft pressure of her breasts against his chest. His hands captured her shoulders, pulling her even closer, so that the growing bulge in his pants was cushioned against the warmth of her stomach.

  He rubbed himself against her, loving the way her legs parted automatically to allow him to wedge his thigh between them. And if he was dizzy now, it was the mindless dizziness of knowing that nothing and no one could come between them again.

  ‘Jack…’ she breathed, when he released her mouth to tip the strap of her vest off her shoulder and nuzzle the creamy slopes of her breasts. His tongue traced the line of her cleavage before he dipped one hand inside her bra and let the hard nub of her nipple push into his palm.

  ‘I want you,’ he said hoarsely, cupping her breasts in hands that trembled a little. ‘You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,’ he added, his mouth finding hers again with increasing urgency. ‘Let’s go upstairs.’

  And then the doorbell rang.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘DON’T ANSWER IT!’

  Rachel clung to Jack’s arm, one leg hooked about his calf, and he was tempted. He wanted her. God, he was consumed by the need to lose himself again in the smouldering heat of her body. But someone was at the door; someone who, as the doorbell pealed again, obviously knew he was at home.

  ‘I’ve got to,’ he groaned, feeling an instinctive sense of deprivation as he moved away from her. ‘It could be the doctor.’

  ‘Dr Moore?’

  ‘The same,’ he agreed, fastening the button at his waist, which Rachel had loosened, with some regret. ‘He’s taken to checking up on me from time to time. Wait here.’ He urged her back into the den, the stubble on his jaw scraping her chin as he stole another breath-robbing kiss. ‘I’ll get rid of him.’

  Rachel nodded, the hand she’d used to clutch the front of his shirt falling to her side as he crossed the hall. ‘Don’t be long.’

  Jack didn’t say anything, but the look he cast back at her was eloquent with meaning, and Rachel’s stomach gave a nervous little flip. Then, responding to his suggestion, she stepped back into the den.

  But only so far. She stayed just inside the door, so she’d be able to hear who it was. And, although she knew she had no reason to feel apprehensive now, she couldn’t help the twinge of foreboding she felt when Jack opened the door.

  ‘George!’

  Jack’s greeting was less than enthusiastic. Recent events had caused him to re-evaluate what his mother had said about George, and he now had his own ideas about the other man’s role in all of this. He’d actually been putting off the confrontation he’d known was to come—not least because of the way George had kept the news of Rachel’s accident from him. But now was definitely not the time to get into that.

  ‘Jack!’

  In his polished Oxford boots and pinstripe suit, George had evidently come straight from the office, and Jack wondered what had induced him to call this afternoon. Apart from a couple of phone calls that Mrs Grady had fielded he’d made no attempt to see him since his return, and it made Jack wonder if he had a line to Lucy Robards and knew about her trip to London. And the fact that Rachel would be alone and might come here…

  ‘Hey, man.’ Was it only his imagination, or was George’s greeting a little too hearty? He held out his hand and Jack was virtually obliged to take it. ‘It’s good to see you.’

  ‘Is it?’ Jack withdrew his hand as soon as he could, surreptitiously wiping it on his jeans as he did so. George’s palm had been hot and sweaty. There was no doubt about it, he was on edge, and Jack wondered why. ‘What are you doing here, George?’

  ‘What do you think?’ George’s plump face was flushed and his smile was definitely suspect. He ran a nervous hand over his balding scalp. ‘I’ve been concerned about you, Jack. Aren’t you going to invite me in?’

  ‘Oh, well…’ Jack gave a rueful smile in return. ‘It’s a bit awkward at the moment, George. You see, I’ve got company.’

  George’s jaw dropped. ‘She’s here?’he exclaimed in dismay, and although Jack was tempted to tease him some more, something about George’s attitude made him think again.

  ‘Where else did you think she’d be?’ he queried tersely, his brows drawing together. ‘She lives here. Where else would she be?’

  ‘Oh!’ George’s expression seemed to clear. ‘I see.’ He licked his lips. ‘You mean Rachel. Of course, of course,’ he added, pulling out a white handkerchief and mopping his brow. ‘My, it’s a warm afternoon, isn’t it?’

  ‘Wet and warm,’ agreed Jack drily, allowing himself a glance over his shoulder. Mmm, he thought, he could think of something else that was wet and warm. Or should that be wet and hot? Whatever, it was infinitely more appealing than standing here listening to George.

  Impatience giving an edge to his voice, he said. ‘Is that all, then? As you can see, I’m feeling pretty good right now.’

  ‘Excellent.’ George put his handkerchief away again. ‘So—what’s the prognosis? When are we going to see you back in the office?’

>   ‘That depends.’ Jack shrugged. ‘Not immediately, obviously. I’m thinking of taking Rachel on a prolonged second honeymoon as soon as she can get away.’

  ‘Get away?’ George frowned.

  ‘Yes. She’s got commitments, too.’

  George hesitated. ‘I—well, I have to be honest, I didn’t realise you two were back together,’ he said, running a finger around the inside of his collar. ‘I mean, the last I heard she was staying with that friend of hers—Lucy Robards.’

  Jack stiffened. ‘You know Lucy?’

  ‘Only by reputation,’ said George hastily. ‘Her column and so on. But I believe she’s quite a feisty woman.’

  ‘And where did you hear that Rachel was staying with Lucy? Did she tell you?’

  George shifted from foot to foot. ‘She might have done. I’m not sure where I heard it. But it’s common knowledge in the office.’

  ‘Is it?’ Jack could feel himself getting angry, but if nothing else his illness had taught him that anger was not the way to go. ‘I suppose if you’ve had a near-fatal accident you need people who care about you around you.’ He paused. ‘Of course, I didn’t know about it. No one bothered to tell me.’

  ‘No?’ George succeeded in looking scandalised. ‘You mean the Robards woman didn’t let you know?’

  ‘Apparently not.’ Jack had to suppress the urge to bury his fist in George’s smug face. ‘Funny, that. She told Rachel that you’d offered to do it.’

  ‘No!’ George gave an indignant gasp. ‘I’m sure I didn’t say any such thing.’ But then, as if he felt the need to cover all the bases, he added quickly, ‘In any case, I might have hesitated to do it. I mean, no one wanted to hinder your recovery, Jack.’

  Jack regarded him sceptically. ‘Well, you’ll be happy to know your—er—consideration has been duly noted. Oh, and just for the record, Rachel and I have never been apart.’

  Rachel, standing in the doorway of the den, listening, felt a glow of satisfaction envelop her. She badly wanted to go and join them, to tell George Thomas what she thought of his sneaky behaviour, to accuse him of doing his best to split her and Jack up.

  But George was speaking again, tension evident in his voice. ‘You’re a lucky man,’ he said tightly. ‘I’ve always thought so.’

  ‘Have you, George?’ Jack could have left it there, but something drove him to say, ‘Even when Karen Johnson was accusing me of being the father of her child?’ His derision came through. ‘Come on—surely no one would envy me that?’

  ‘Perhaps not.’ George squared his shoulders. ‘But you know, Jack, there are people who would say you deserved everything you got.’

  Rachel caught her breath. But the denial she waited for didn’t come. However, George must have seen something in Jack’s face to trouble him, because he went on in quite a different tone. ‘I mean…’ she could hear the defensive note in his voice…‘if you hadn’t taken her out, made her think you liked her, she’d probably have had the abortion and been done with it.’

  There was a pregnant pause after that statement, and then Jack said quietly, ‘You think she was considering an abortion, George?’

  The other man cleared his throat. ‘How would I know what she was thinking?’ he exclaimed, and again he sounded defensive. ‘I can’t read her mind, Jack. It was you she wanted, not me.’

  ‘Was it?’

  The significance of what those two words implied hit Rachel like a thunderbolt. My God, she thought incredulously, Jack thinks George is the father of Karen’s baby. She blinked. But George was happily married. He had three teenage daughters, for goodness’ sake. Yet the fact that he was married hadn’t stopped Karen from accusing Jack, had it?

  The sound of another car turning into the drive distracted all of them. It came to a skidding halt on the forecourt, gravel spraying from beneath its wheels. A door opened and was slammed shut, then another voice—one that Rachel had hoped never to hear again—exclaimed shrilly, ‘Well, well—George. What’s this? A pre-emptive strike?’

  Rachel had heard enough. She wasn’t going to hide away like a frightened mouse while that woman invaded her home for a third time. Checking that the button on her shorts was fastened, and running combing fingers through her hair, she left the den and started across the hall to the open doorway.

  Meanwhile, George was saying harshly, ‘What the devil are you doing here, Karen?’

  ‘I could ask you that,’ she retorted, coming to join them on the porch. ‘I wondered where you were going and I followed you.’ She gave a scornful snort. ‘Surprise, surprise—you came straight here.’

  George glared at her and Jack realised that that was who George had really meant when he’d asked if she was here. Not Rachel. Karen!

  ‘You have no right to come here, Karen,’ George went on aggressively. ‘You’re not welcome. I’d have thought Jack would have convinced you of that by now.’

  ‘This isn’t about Jack,’ said Karen angrily, her expression darkening ominously when Rachel came to slip a hand through her husband’s arm. ‘And what’s she doing here?’ she added, almost mimicking the words George had used. ‘You told me she and Jack were living apart.’

  ‘I don’t recall telling you any such thing,’ muttered George, with obvious discomfort. But Karen wasn’t having that.

  ‘Oh, you did,’ she insisted. ‘As I remember it, you said that when she got out of hospital she went to stay with that friend of hers in the village.’ Her lips twisted as she looked at Rachel. ‘George told me you’d had a nasty fall.’

  Jack felt Rachel’s nails dig into his wrist, but she didn’t say anything, and, feeling an immense desire to protect her, he said, ‘George always did get things wrong.’ He paused. ‘You should have had more sense than to believe him, Karen. I’m sure he’s let you down before.’

  ‘Look, I don’t have time for this,’ said George, evidently wishing he were anywhere else than here. ‘I’m pleased you’re feeling so much better, Jack. And Rachel. It’s good to see you, too.’ He turned to Karen and took hold of her arm. ‘Come on, Karen. It’s obvious we’re in the way. Let me see you to your car.’

  ‘Let go of me.’ In spite of the bulkiness of her body, Karen shook him off easily. ‘I’m not going anywhere. Not until I know what you’ve been telling Jack about me.’

  George’s dismay was obvious. ‘I haven’t told Jack anything about you, you silly girl,’ he protested, trying and failing to make her take his hand. ‘For pity’s sake, can’t you see you’re just embarrassing everyone?’

  ‘The only person I’m embarrassing is you, George.’ Karen retorted scornfully. Then, turning to Jack, she went on, ‘Don’t let him fool you. He has his own agenda. Since he discovered she—’ Rachel shivered as Karen’s cold eyes assessed her ‘—was all right, he’s been wetting himself that you might connect the dots.’

  ‘What dots?’

  ‘Karen—’

  Ignoring George’s agonised cry, Karen gave Rachel a contemptuous look. ‘I don’t know what Jacks sees in you,’ she said coldly. ‘What a pity that old man saved your life.’

  ‘That’s enough!’ Jack spoke harshly. Then, looking at George, he said again, ‘What are these dots she’s talking about?’

  George groaned. ‘You tell me, ’he said. ‘Don’t listen to her, Jack. You can’t believe a word she says.’

  ‘He can’t believe a word you say,’ Karen contradicted him. She looked at Jack again. ‘George knew how I felt about you. He’s always known. But that didn’t stop him from seducing me. And then, when I got pregnant, he used my love for you to try and save his own miserable skin!’

  ‘Love!’ George sneered. ‘You don’t know the meaning of the word.’

  ‘And you do?’ Karen snorted. ‘Give me a break! It was your idea to tell Jack it was his baby. Just because I’d confided in you about him spending that night at my house.’

  George’s eyes moved from Jack’s to Karen’s and back again. ‘She’s crazy!’ he exclaimed. ‘You told me yo
urself she’d been stalking you. You can’t believe I’d want any part of her—’

  He broke off as Karen’s hand connected with his cheek, and Rachel saw the marks of her fingers white against George’s flushed skin. ‘You bastard!’ Karen cried. ‘You wanted me. You wanted me because you thought Jack might want me. Then, when he didn’t, you thought you’d use me to ruin his life.’

  ‘This is ludicrous—’

  George tried again, but once again Karen overrode him. ‘Why do you think Rachel turned up at Ballyryan on the same day I did?’ she demanded, turning back to Jack. ‘It was because your good friend George suggested it.’

  Rachel’s mouth felt dry. ‘George…?’

  ‘She’s lying,’ he persisted desperately. ‘Can’t you see that? She’s already tried these tricks on your husband, and now, because that didn’t work, she’s blaming me!’

  This time Karen let him have his say. ‘Somehow,’ she said casually, ‘I don’t think Rachel will believe you. After what happened to her.’ Her eyes on the other girl’s were full of malice. ‘After that, she has to know I wouldn’t have done what I did unless I was desperate.’

  ‘And what did you do, Karen?’ Jack demanded, ignoring George’s attempt to dissuade him. ‘Come on. I want to know.’

  ‘You mean she didn’t tell you?’ Karen gave a short laugh. ‘Poor Rachel! Were you afraid it was Jack who made me push you off the cliff?’

  ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

  It was some time later, and although Jack had wanted to call the police, Rachel had persuaded him to let both of them go. She didn’t think she could bear to face the horror of her fall all over again, and besides, she didn’t think anyone had forced Karen to do what she did.

  In many ways it was a relief to know that she hadn’t imagined that push, that awful moment when she’d known there was no way she could save herself. Karen had seen an opportunity to rid herself of her rival once and for all, but at the end of the day, it would just be Rachel’s word against hers. She’d admitted nothing, and it was George who was going to have to handle the fallout from her other revelations.