Wife to a Stranger

by Clair, Daphne

  Her heart pounding erratically, she lifted her face, gazing gravely back at him, and waited.

  The kiss was warm and exciting, though restrained. She returned it shyly, following his lead. Then a dog barked and Rolfe lifted his head, looking over hers at the people they’d met earlier returning along the beach. Rolfe’s arms loosened their hold, but he kept one about her waist as he turned her to keep on walking.

  The other couple’s pace was much brisker. and they soon passed with a cheerful wave, the dog trotting ahead.

  ‘Goodnight,’ the man said, and Rolfe responded.

  ‘They must have seen us,’ Capri murmured

  ‘It isn’t illegal to kiss on the beach.’ He sounded amused. ‘And we are married.’

  She thought about the other things he said they’d done on the beach sometimes, after dark, and a hot, delicious shiver coursed through her.

  They strolled on, and she saw the couple with the dog leave the sand and climb to their house—the one next door to Gabriel Blake’s.

  By the time Capri and Rolfe reached the spot there was no sign of anyone about. Rolfe halted, looking up at the house. ‘It’s quite something, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ she agreed. ‘Do you know who designed it?’

  ‘I believe their son is an architect.’ His arm moved to her shoulders. ‘Ready to go back?’

  It was rapidly darkening now. ‘Mm, maybe we should.’ Starting to turn, Capri felt Rolfe’s arm tighten as he pulled her into his embrace. His free hand cupped her chin, tipping her head, and his mouth closed over hers in a kiss that was intimate and frankly sensual.

  She returned it, more confidently than before, giving him back what he gave her, recognising his arousal with a sense of primitive female triumph that was new to her. His hand slid down, and he hauled her closer to him as his legs parted, trapping her between his thighs, and his blatant arousal sent a bolt of excitement through her body.

  Light suddenly beat against her closed lids, making them flutter, her body stiffen, and after a few seconds Rolfe released her mouth, his arms easing about her.

  The window of the house to the right of the one they’d been admiring blazed with yellow light. Gabriel Blake’s house.

  Dizzy and breathless, her skin burning, the adrenalin pumping through her veins, Capri clung to Rolfe, her fingers clutching his shirt as he laid his forehead against hers and said in a low, harsh voice, ‘Maybe you weren’t ready for that. I’m having difficulty keeping my hands off you, I want you so much. You’ll have to tell me if I go too fast.’

  I want you too. She almost said the words, but as she moved, trying to look up at him, the lighted window caught her eye again, a shadow moving behind the glass.

  Instinctively she pulled away from Rolfe.

  He was watching her, but it was almost dark and she could no longer see his expression clearly. Then he turned his head, stared at the lit window and slowly looked back at her.

  Capri swung round and began walking back the way they had come, and Rolfe fell into step beside her, possessing her hand again.

  She should say something, tell him it was all right, that his kiss had been welcome.

  Only she couldn’t help wondering if he’d chosen his moment, deliberately pressing that long, very obviously intimate kiss on her in full view of Gabriel Blake.

  CHAPTER NINE

  WHEN they got back to the house the phone was ringing, and Rolfe hurried to pick it up before the answering machine cut in. Capri could hear him talking as she dusted sand off her shoes and carried them to her room.

  She was putting the shoes away when Rolfe tapped on the open bedroom door and walked in. ‘That was Thea,’ he told her, ‘inviting us to a barbecue on Saturday.’

  Thea—the dark-haired young woman they’d met at the café. ‘There’ll be people there that I should know?’

  ‘I said you may not feel up to it but she insists it’s just a casual get-together, and I promised to talk to you.’

  Turning down the invitation without a real excuse would be rude, and it sounded as though Thea was anxious to have her there. Thea was a friend. Capri probably needed friends to help her piece her life back together. ‘I guess we should go. It was good of her to ask.’

  ‘Are you sure? If you don’t want to—’

  ‘Hiding in the house won’t help bring my memory back.’

  After a moment he said, ‘Shall I accept, then?’

  ‘I could do it tomorrow if you give me her number.’

  ‘I’ll leave it on my desk for you. I have to go to the factory again tomorrow, but Hallie will be here.’

  ‘I really don’t need nursemaiding, Rolfe. I’ll be fine, with or without Hallie.’

  ‘Still…I prefer knowing you’re not alone.’

  ‘It’s nice of you to care.’

  ‘I’ve always cared, Capri. I wish—’

  ‘What?’ she asked as he halted.

  ‘I keep forgetting you don’t remember things that happened before. I was going to say, I wish I could convince you of how much I care.’

  ‘I know you do.’ Whatever problems they might have had, his concern and care had been obvious from the time she woke and saw him in the hospital. He wanted their marriage to work. She had to believe that, needed to believe it. Any alternative was too scary to entertain.

  She saw his eyes soften, go dark, and he stepped towards her.

  ‘I think I’ll have an early night,’ she said quickly.

  He halted, a few feet away from her. ‘Sure,’ he said. And then, ‘May I kiss you goodnight?’

  ‘You don’t need to ask permission, Rolfe.’

  He took his time, his hands lightly gripping her shoulders to draw her into his arms. The kiss itself was gentle, his mouth barely brushing hers, leaving her oddly disappointed, yet on another level relieved that he hadn’t demanded more.

  He eased back and searched her eyes as if something about her both amused and perplexed him. ‘Goodnight, my sweet,’ he said. Then he released her and turned to walk out of the room.

  Hallie was cheerful and brisk, and seemed to find plenty to do even though Capri wondered why they needed her services twice every week. Except for the sand that was no doubt tracked or possibly even blown into the house on occasion, there didn’t appear to be much to make it dirty.

  Capri telephoned Thea, who was inclined to chat, but they soon ran out of conversation. Capri reflected that it must be difficult trying to talk to someone who didn’t remember you or any of the people you mentioned.

  Hallie was still busy and, feeling in the way, Capri retreated to the beach with a sketch-book and pencil.

  There she sat on the sandbank and drew the marram grass and harestails, stopping now and then to gaze at the ocean and examine the far recesses of her mind for some clue to her former life.

  After Hallie had gone Capri made herself a salad sandwich, and was eating it while she read the paper when the telephone rang.

  She went down the hall and picked up the receiver, and at her greeting a man’s voice said, ‘Capri? It’s Gabriel. Is Rolfe about?’

  ‘No, but—’

  ‘Can I come and see you?’

  Tensely, she answered, ‘I don’t think that would be a good idea.’

  ‘Capri, you don’t understand.’

  ‘I understand that I’m married,’ she said firmly, ‘and whatever I might have done before—if what you say is true—’

  ‘It’s true!’ he burst out. ‘Look, I know you felt I’d let you down—’

  ‘Why would I feel that?’

  ‘Just let me come round and explain—’

  On the point of a firm refusal, she hesitated. What if he held the key to her elusive memories? Supposing he could help her back to normality?

  ‘Are you frightened of your husband?’ he demanded.

  ‘Not frightened.’ The denial was instinctive, but she certainly didn’t fancy Rolfe’s possible reaction if he found her enjoying a tête-à-tête with another man. ‘
I just don’t want to…go behind his back.’

  ‘Darling—’

  ‘I don’t think you should call me that,’ she said sharply.

  ‘All right—Capri! If you can’t remember what went on between us before, or the state of your marriage, how do you know you didn’t have good reason?’

  Was there ever a good reason for adultery? Even if Rolfe had beaten her, which she didn’t imagine for a minute, she surely should have severed her marriage tie before embarking on a love affair with someone else.

  ‘Look, I’m coming round anyway.’ He put down the phone, and Capri replaced the receiver and stood for a while before going outside to the terrace facing the sea. If he was determined, there wasn’t much point in barricading herself in the house.

  As she’d expected, he came along the beach, bounding up the bank and striding towards her where she stood waiting for him, her hands secretly clenched in the pockets of a bleached linen skirt.

  ‘Capri.’ His blue eyes were bright and bold He seemed about to reach for her but she stepped back quickly, and he made a helpless gesture instead. ‘Can’t we sit down?’

  Stiffly she took one of the chairs flanking the small outdoor table and clasped her hands loosely on the cold surface.

  Gabriel sank into the chair opposite, surveying her with those hungry blue eyes, and she stirred uneasily. His shoulders slumped, and he too clasped his hands on the table in front of him, his head bent.

  She asked, ‘How did you let me down?’

  Gabriel looked up. ‘I said you felt I’d let you down. I had to take a trip to America for an exhibition that had been booked for months—I’m an artist.’

  ‘Yes, Rolfe told me.’

  ‘You’ve discussed me with him since you came home?’

  ‘We didn’t discuss you. I mentioned we’d met on the beach.’

  ‘Does he suspect…?’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Capri felt acutely uncomfortable. Just sitting here with this man was making her conscience-stricken about something she didn’t even remember. ‘When…how long were we…did this affair of ours last?’

  ‘We’d been seeing each other for weeks before I flew to New York, and in the last few days…we became lovers. When I came back you’d gone. Rolfe said you were on holiday, but I was sure you’d left him. He’d be too proud to admit it, of course. I waited for you to get in touch, but…nothing. And I couldn’t find out from anyone where I could contact you. I even asked Rolfe, cooked up a story about how I’d promised you some book or other, and he said to give it to him and he’d forward it. The bastard was as smooth as butter.’

  Capri bit her tongue. No use defending Rolfe at this point. She looked away to where the waves thundered regularly onto the shore below them. ‘Go on.’

  ‘When I learned you’d been in that accident I was frantic. Rolfe was already gone by the time I heard, and I was still trying to find out where you were and if you’d been badly hurt when I saw you walking along the beach…I’ve never been so relieved in my life.’

  He had cared for her, she supposed, and with a flash of compunction she said, ‘I’m sorry you were worried.’

  ‘Well, the main thing is you’re okay. Except for this memory loss. I wish I could help.’

  ‘Thank you.’ He sounded sincere, and his eyes were anxious. She moistened her lips. ‘Did…did I tell you why I was unhappy with Rolfe?’

  Gabriel shrugged. ‘He’s wedded to his business, and his wife came second. And he wanted children, while you…’ He shook his head.

  ‘I didn’t?’ Capri asked, astonished.

  ‘You insisted on my using protection even though you were on the pill. You were terrified of getting pregnant.’

  ‘To you, maybe!’ She certainly wouldn’t have wanted a child that wasn’t her husband’s. And there were other reasons for caution, anyway.

  ‘You didn’t want to have Rolfe’s baby either.’

  ‘Did I tell you that?’

  Gabriel shrugged. ‘You made it obvious. I guess he wanted to tie you down, stop you straying.’

  ‘Rolfe isn’t like that.’

  He looked derisive. ‘He’s exactly the type. To that kind of man a family is proof of his virility, another status symbol like his car and this house.’

  ‘You have a nice house,’ she said pointedly.

  Gabriel grinned, apparently not offended. ‘So I do. But Rolfe didn’t always have money. Men like that—who’ve made a fortune on their own, and so early in life—they’re driven. Obsessive compulsives who have to keep proving themselves, always looking out for something bigger, better, faster—prettier.’ He cast Capri a shrewd glance. ‘I admire Rolfe in lots of ways But you have to understand—he’s never going to be satisfied with what he has. He’ll always be reaching for something else.’

  ‘I doubt if you know him well enough to dissect him,’ Capri said coldly.

  ‘I know his type,’ Gabriel insisted. ‘I’m sure he despises me because I have enough money to pursue the small talent I have and make the most of it.’ Ignoring the quick upward flick of her eyelashes at this accurate summing up, he went on, ‘But the fact is, I can offer a woman the kind of security he never will, no matter how much money he makes. Because I have nothing to prove.’

  Rolfe had said she was insecure. Gabriel had an uncanny ability to probe sore spots. She steered him away from the uncomfortable subject. ‘What about your painting? Don’t you want to prove yourself there?’

  ‘I know I’m good, but no genius, and I don’t have an overwhelming ambition.’

  ‘Perhaps you’d paint better if you did.’

  ‘Or perhaps I’d just drive myself and everyone around me nuts trying to achieve the impossible. I’m happy the way I am.’ Gabriel’s voice changed, lowered. ‘And I’ve never been as happy as I was in those few weeks when you and I were together.’ His eyes sought and held hers, and she stirred uncomfortably.

  Shaking her head, she said, ‘Gabriel…whatever might have been between us, it’s over. It should never have happened.’

  He leaned forward and grasped her hands in his. ‘You can’t say that! You don’t even remember how we were together! It was…incandescent, darling! If you’d just give me the chance I could show you—’

  Her hands trembled in his as she tried to withdraw them. ‘Please, Gabriel—’

  ‘Capri! Darling, listen to me—’

  ‘Good afternoon,’ Rolfe’s deep, decisive voice interrupted.

  Capri gasped, finally pulling her hands away from Gabriel’s slackened grasp. ‘Rolfe! I didn’t hear the car.’

  ‘You don’t from this side of the house,’ he told her. He was carrying a florist’s bouquet, wrapped in stiff green paper and tied with a red ribbon. ‘Hello, Gabriel.’

  Gabriel stood up, trying to look nonchalant. ‘Hi.’

  ‘You’re leaving?’ Rolfe suggested politely, in a voice like tempered steel.

  Gabriel glanced at Capri, and she said, ‘Yes. He was just going. Gabriel has been…trying to help me remember…’

  ‘Really.’ The steel was still there. His eyes seared her. ‘Any luck?’

  Capri shook her head. There seemed to be an obstruction in her throat, and for the life of her she couldn’t say any more.

  ‘Pity,’ Rolfe said. ‘Well…’ turning to the other man ‘…thanks for trying.’

  It was a dismissal, and Gabriel weathered it as best he could, with a sickly smile and a shrug. ‘I’ll see you again,’ he offered, looking at Capri.

  She didn’t answer.

  Rolfe waited until Gabriel had loped down the slope and disappeared along the beach. Then he tossed the bouquet onto the table in front of Capri, making her flinch. ‘I bought those for you,’ he said. ‘I’m going to have a shower.’

  She sat staring at the flowers while he went inside, nausea curling in her stomach, an anxious pulse fluttering in her throat. There were carnations, small furled pink lilies, a few tight rosebuds, and some blue flowers she couldn’t ident
ify. It was an expensive bouquet.

  After a while she picked it up with shaking fingers and carried it inside.

  In the utility room she found a plain pottery vase and filled it with water. Arranging the flowers would give her something to do.

  Fiercely concentrating, she was picking up the last carnation when she sensed Rolfe’s shadowy presence in the doorway, and forced herself to turn a calm face to her husband.

  Her hands had stopped shaking, and her voice was steady, if a trifle lower than usual. ‘They’re lovely flowers,’ she said. ‘Thank you.’

  He’d changed into jeans with a loose shirt. His hair was damp, sleeked back from his forehead, and his eyes looked very dark. If his shower had been a cold one it hadn’t improved his temper. He was keeping anger fiercely under control, but it emanated from him in waves. ‘Do you want to tell me,’ he said gratingly, ‘why Gabriel Blake was holding your hands?’

  No, I don’t want to, was her first, involuntary thought. Standing in the doorway he looked big and implacable, and as if a wrong word would provoke some violent reaction. Capri swallowed, and turned to blindly poke the carnation into her arrangement. The stalk snapped in the middle, and she vented her feelings in a small exclamation.

  Rolfe stepped forward until he was beside her, so close she could smell the soap he’d used in the shower. ‘Capri?’

  She looked down at the shortened carnation stalk, and decided on the coward’s way out. ‘Some people are like that,’ she said. ‘You know, they touch a lot.’ She risked a fleeting glance up, saw a frown deepen between Rolfe’s black brows. ‘It doesn’t mean anything. He’s an artist,’ she added hurriedly, tarring all artists with the same empathetic brush. ‘He was trying to help.’

  ‘Help you remember?’

  ‘Yes.’ Carefully this time, she tucked the carnation into the vase. ‘If we’d been up to anything, Rolfe, we wouldn’t have sat in full view of anyone strolling along the beach. Would we?’

  She dared to turn then, clutching the counter behind her and looking with deliberately limpid eyes into his face. ‘I don’t even know the man,’ she said truthfully. She’d only met him twice, and briefly, since returning. ‘I remember nothing about him.’