Rachel Lindsay - Rough Diamond Lover

by Rachel Lindsay

  "With honors!" Robert said, letting his gaze rest on the velvet trousers that clung tightly to her hips and the long length of her thighs.

  Well pleased with his admiration, she turned to give her father a hug. "I'll put your supper on a tray and—"

  "There's no need for that. Nell popped in while you were upstairs and asked me to go over there."

  "How kind of her."

  "I told you you'd be glad of kind neighbors one day!"

  Laura smiled. "You're determined to have me eating a 11 my words, aren't you? "

  "I wish I could. But I don't expect miracles. I know you 'll never settle down here."

  "I'm doing my best to make her," Robert interposed.

  "Shouldn't we be making a move?" Laura said quickly.

  If he sensed her reason for breaking up the conversation, Robert gave no sign, but helped her into her coat, a golden suede she had bought herself in a moment of extravagance. Now she was glad she had done so; at least she would not arrive at Elaine Simpson's party feeling like a pauper, even though they might regard her as one!

  It was an unexpectedly pleasant night for driving. The streets were deserted and the skies had cleared, too, leaving the moon to ride the heavens unattended.

  "We're almost there," Robert remarked, and Laura realized they had left Eddlestone behind and were bowling along a winding lane with trees on both sides.

  "Do the Simpsons have a big house?" she asked.

  "Enormous. As the gates indicate!"

  He pointed with his hand and she saw they were driving between massive iron gates that stood sentinel before a wide, perfectly maintained driveway, bordered with shrubs. The house, when it finally came into view, was a huge Gothic mansion redeemed from spookiness by the abundance of lights that blazed from its windows.

  With some trepidation she followed Robert up a wide flight of steps and into a square hall whose black and white marble floor served as a foil for exquisite Chippendale furniture. No doubt that the person responsible for choosing to live in this house was not the same person responsible for making it habitable!

  On each side of the hall, double doors were opened wide, affording a view of two magnificent rooms filled to overflowing with people.

  "I thought you told me to dress casually," Laura hissed, eyeing the elaborate gowns of the middle-aged women who appeared to predominate the throng.

  "This isn't our party," Robert whispered good- humoredly. "iElaine always holds her shindigs in the billiard room. But I thought you'd like to meet Grant- ley's rival first!"

  Hardly had he spoken when a portly, red-cheeked man bore down on them, and Laura's hand was taken in a grasp as hard as the wide, thin mouth now smiling at her.

  "A Londoner, eh?" Harold Simpson remarked as Robert introduced her. "And what brings you to these parts?"

  "My father works for Grantley Engineering."

  She hesitated, reluctant to say her father's full name in case her host thought she was trying to establish even a semblance of intimacy. Now at least she could understand why her father had not wanted to contact his old friend. Wealth like this formed its own barriers.

  "Your father…" Clear blue eyes narrowed. "His name wouldn't be John, would it? "

  "Yes. He… he asked me to send you his regards."

  "Did he, indeed! And is that all he intends sending me? I'll have more to say about that. Where's your father now? Give me his number and I 'll call him."

  " He's with friends," she said hastily.

  "Well, tell him from me that I take a poor view of his living here and not coming to see me."

  She said nothing though her swift glance around the opulent surroundings must have spoken for her, for he gave a grunt and patted her hand.

  "You tell your father that I never expected him to let money come between us. And also tell him that I'll be along to see him if he's too much of an inverted snob to come and see me."

  "What are you shouting about, Harold?" a plump, cheerful-looking brunette in her early forties asked as she came to stand beside them. "I'm Beth Simpson," she explained to Laura. "And you must be the wonder girl who's running Jake's canteen."

  "How do you know?" Laura asked, surprised.

  "He told me about you. And I caught a glimpse of you when you came to the hospital."

  "The hospital?"

  "I work there," the woman explained. "You were leaving Matron's office just as I was going in."

  "I see." Laura's curiosity got the better of her. "What do you do there?"

  "I'm a sister in surgical."

  "Good heavens." "I take it your surprise comes from my having money yet choosing to be a nurse,'' came the dry comment.

  "It does, rather. It's a bit unusual, you must admit. I mean, nursing's so hard."

  "So is staying home twiddling your thumbs." A smile robbed the words of sharpness. "I'd be bored to death doing nowt but spending money. This way I'm busy and happy!" She smoothed her dress down, its shiny blue material doing nothing to minimize her oversized proportions.

  Yet looking at her Laura was struck by the warmth of her face, with its mobile mouth and bright blue eyes that radiated cheerfulness. She had no doubt Sister Simpson was a tonic to all her patients.

  "Well, I mustn't keep you away from your party," the woman went on, then glanced at Robert. "It's a long time since you were here, young man."

  "Elaine has other fish to fry!"

  "So have you!"

  He grinned. "Can you blame me?"

  "Not now I've met the competition!"

  Uncomfortably aware of Robert's arm under her elbow, Laura edged slightly away from him. The last thing in the world she wanted was to have gossip link her name with his. If she was not careful, wagging tongues would even be marrying her off!

  "Did someone say something about going to the party?" she asked brightly.

  "Sorry," Beth Simpson said, giving her a look of quick understanding. "Follow me."

  Edging their way through a group of new arrivals, they went down a flight of stairs that ended in a long corridor. It was colder here and their footsteps echoed on the stone floor.

  Laura could not suppress a shiver and the woman apologized for the change in temperature.

  "Harold won't p'qt in central heating down here. Says it's a waste of money. I keep telling him it costs far more to heat the billiard room with electric fires, but he's that stubborn."

  " Yorkshiremen are," Laura agreed.

  "Your father never was!"

  "I must tell him you said that!"

  "You tell him nothing of the sort!" A slight flush stained Beth Simpson's cheeks, and moving forward quickly, she opened the door in front of her. "Join the madhouse!"

  The words were in no way an understatement; crammed to capacity with gyrating figures clothed in a motley assortment of clothes that ranged from evening dresses and dinner jackets to leather skirts and jeans, the scene could well have come from the first act of The Rake's Progress. Music blared from one corner of the huge room, where a group of five young men was plucking, beating and pounding on various guitars and drums.

  "There's Elaine," Beth shouted above the noise, and reached out an arm to pull a swaying blond figure from the hold of a denim-clad man. "Two more guests for you, Elaine. Robert you know, but I'd like you to meet Laura Winters. Her fatherland yours were at school together."

  "How nice for them!"

  The girl's husky voice was a fitting accompaniment to her fragile appearance. Seen at close range she was even lovelier than Laura had remembered, her blond hair so silky that it looked like satin, her long-lashed eyes so green that one might have been forgiven for thinking she wore contact lenses to give them false color. Her figure was tiny but perfect, with small rounded breasts and narrow waist. Only the full, sensuous mouth gave the lie to her look of innocence. Here was no budding rose waiting to be picked, but one that was already fully blown. Possibly Jake Andrews had savored the nectar of this particular bloom, Laura mused, then hastily cast away
the thought.

  As though unaware of being scrutinized, the girl fixed her attention on Robert, her smile wide and artificial.

  "How lovely to see you after all this time, darling. I thought you had forgotten all about me.''

  "I could say the same to you," he replied, "except that I know you don't go fishing for minnows any longer."

  "Not now I'm angling for salmon!" Elaine drawled and looked pleased with herself, as though delighted to know she was the subject of gossip and conjecture. Swinging around to Laura again, she flashed her a smile. "Are you here for the holidays, Miss Winters?"

  "I live here with my father. We both work at Grantley's."

  "Then you must be the girl Jake told me about—the one who runs the canteen."

  "And doing a great job," Robert intervened before Laura could reply.

  Ignoring him, Elaine continued to look at Laura. "I never expected you to be so… so…" Scarlet-tipped fingers clawed the air. "From the way Jake spoke, I thought you'd be some dowdy lump in tweeds!"

  There was no polite reply Laura could have made to this comment, so she contented herself by looking amused. Jake Andrews did not find her appealing—that much he had taken delight in admitting—but she refused to believe that even he would have described her in such unflattering terms. At a quick guess she decided Elaine Simpson had not anticipated anyone to rival her own beauty, and the fact that it had caused her to be so insulting gave away a great deal about her relationship with Jake. Obviously she still feared he could be taken away from her!

  "Please don't think I meant to be rude," Elaine apologized in a little-girl voice. "But I always blurt out what I'm thinking."

  "I would never have guessed you do think!" Laura said in the same little-girl voice.

  There was a chuckle behind her and Jake came into view, his muscular body emphasized by well-fitting slacks and a wool sweater in an unusual shade of maroon, too dark to be wine, yet too red to be purple. But it gave warmth to his tanned skin and increased the blackness of his hair. Beside him, all the other meijt in the room paled into insignificance, and though she disliked him deeply, she had to admit that as a purely physical specimen of manhood, he took a lot of beating.

  "Don't hav.e a verbal battle with Laura," he said. "Even I have difficulty in winning against her!"

  "I thought I went out of my way to let you win our arguments," Laura said quickly.

  "Not so I've noticed." Moving past her, he dropped a light kiss on Elaine's cheek.

  The girl responded with overemphasis, her body moving close to his, her hand entwining itself around his arm.

  "You're late,"she reproached him gently.

  "I had to go into the office."

  "On Christmas Day! Don't you ever relax?"

  "I'm relaxing now," he said and drew her onto the floor.

  Held close in his arms she appeared even more fragile, and she nestled against his shoulder, her face clothed in a look compounded of languor and triumph. Above the blond head Jake's gray eyes stared into Laura's, and she turned away from them quickly, her whole being filled with anger.

  "They make a good-looking couple," Beth remarked as she saw Laura turn. "It would be a good thing if it lasted. Jake's the only man I know capable of standing up to my niece's tantrums!"

  "I hope your niece is capable of standing up to his!"

  "Jake doesn't have tantrums," Beth grinned. "Though they do say you either have to live with a man or work for him before you know him properly." Blunt- faced, she regarded Laura. "You sound as if you don't like him."

  "He can be difficult," Laura said diplomatically. "And he's a nonstop worker."

  "You make that sound like a vice!"

  "It is, if you work with him. Everyone should relax some time."

  "Jake would find that harder than most. When you've been the provider since you were a child, it's almost impossible to learn there's no longer any need to drive yourself to the limit." Seeing Laura's puzzlement, she looked rueful. "I can see you don't know about his background."

  "Don't tell me he supported a widowed mother from the time he was eight!"

  "Twelve, actually," Beth said slowly.

  Heat radiated through Laura's body. "I… I'd no idea, I only said it as a joke."

  "I gathered that. But it was no joke to Jake."

  "But surely that sort of thing—I mean the need to support someone in that way—died out with the welfare state?"

  "The government would like you to think so, but it doesn't happen to apply to folk in these parts. Men will take the dole if they can't find work, but there's a limit to how much they'll beg for anything extra."

  "It surely isn't a question of begging?"

  A crescendo on the drums made further conversation impossible, and as it died away, Robert leaned close and pointed in the direction of the buffet.

  "I don't know about you two ladies, but I'm starving."

  "No food for me," the older woman said promptly.

  "And not too much for me," Laura added, and watched as he pushed his way through the crowd.

  She hoped he would not return until she had had a chance to question Beth Simpson further; what she had learned about Jake had astonished her, and she wanted to hear the whole story without making her curiosity too obvious.

  "Mr. Andrews's father must have died when he was very young," she remarked in a casual tone.

  "He ran off," came the correction. "Left Jake and his mother when the boy was five. No one ever heard of him again. He did leave some sort of note by way of apology, I believe. Something about not being able to stand sick women."

  "Sick women?"

  "Aye. Jake's mother got multiple sclerosis soon after he was born. Before that she'd been a rare spitfire. Good- looking and strong."

  "You speak as if you knew her."

  "I did. She only died a couple of years back. Jake was marvelous with her. Took her out and about as if she were able to walk."

  "You mean he… !"

  Laura was too astonished to continue and Beth Simpson mirrored her expression. "Why are you so surprised?"

  "Because he once said sick women should be treated like horses and shot!"

  Beth gave a dry laugh. "That sounds just like him: making a joke of the things he cares about most. You won't find a gentler or kinder man in the county… or anywhere else for that matter."

  There was a silence, and as it lengthened Laura glimpsed Robert at the far end of the room holding two plates and coming toward her.

  Quickly she spoke again. "It must have been hard for him. I mean he's done so well… going to university and making a career for himself."

  "He worked night and day to achieve it. And he has a first-class brain. That's always a help! He got every scholarship going. Won a place to Cambridge but wouldn't take it on account of not wanting to leave his mother. Went to Manchester University instead and came home each night When other boys would be out courting the girls, you'd find Jake wheeling his mum about and treating her like a queen." Beth's voice was husky. "Never took a brass farthing from anyone and only bought what they could afford. Sometimes I felt they had too much pride… felt they made their lives harder than they need have done."

  "I can understand why," Laura said slowly. "If you relied on someone and they let you down—like the father did—I can see why you'd decide never to be beholden to anyone again; to vow that if you can't get something by your own efforts, then you won't have it at all."

  "That's one way of looking at it. Though it'll be a shame if Jake's of the same mind now."

  "What do you mean?"

  "See for yourself." A plump arm motioned to where Jake and Elaine were dancing. Their bodies were close, their feet almost motionless, so that what should have been an act of dancing became almost an act of loving. "Elaine wants him," Beth said unnecessarily, "and Harold hasn't got a son. He's always wanted Jake to work for him but he could never get him to leave Grantley's. However, as a son-in-law…"

  The anger and contemp
t with which Laura had first acknowledged Jake Andrews's friendship with Elaine no longer seemed valid. It was unlikely that a man who had reached his present position without accepting help from anyone would be willing to marry in order to further his ambition. No, if he married Elaine it would be because he loved her. Wryly she marveled that he could be so blinded by physical appearance that he failed to see the shallowness in the green eyes and the petulance behind the sensual mouth.

  "Food's coming up!"

  With a start Laura saw Robert at her elbow, balancing two plates and two glasses of champagne.

  "If you women will be kind enough to relieve me of these," he said, "I'll go and collect the Christmas pudding before it disappears!"

  "No fear of that," Beth laughed. "Harold ordered enough to feed an army. He's tight about central heating, but never about food!" She shook her head as Robert went to hand her a plate. "Not for me, love. After the Christmas dinner I ate I vowed to starve for a week!"

  "Me, too," Laura agreed.

  "But you asked me to get you some food," Robert protested.

  Laura reddened, recollecting her excuse to get him out of the way while she questioned Beth about Jake Andrews. "Just a figure of speech," she said quickly, and dug her fork into a piece of chicken she did not want.

  Even to herself she could not explain her interest in a man she did not like. Yet perhaps that in itself was the reason: her desire to find further evidence that he warranted her antipathy. Unfortunately, the quest had backfired with a vengeance. Instead of cause to dislike him more, she had been given ample evidence to show her opinion of him was not only erroneous but unjustified. Yet not completely unjustified, for he had gone out of his way to give her a wrong impression of himself. But why? It was a question she could not answer and her eyes wandered around the room till they found a pair of broad, maroon-colored shoulders. A strand of long blond hair trailed across it and she hastily averted her face.

  "How do you like living up here?" Beth's voice broke into Laura's thoughts and she was glad of it.

  "I find it lonely after London. If it weren't for Robert I couldn't stick it."

  "You must come to our next musical evening."

  "I never knew there was a music society here."