Читать книгу Rachel's Child - Jennifer Taylor, Jennifer Taylor - Страница 7

CHAPTER TWO

IT WAS almost ten before Jamie finally settled for the night. Rachel had hoped that the distraction of making toast by the fire would take his mind off what had happened, but Jamie had refused to let the incident drop.

Rachel didn’t feel happy about the lies she had been forced to tell but they couldn’t be helped. Jamie knew little about his father, apart from the fact that Rachel had loved him very much. Now Jamie rarely mentioned him. Single-parent families were quite common where they lived, so Jamie found nothing strange about his situation—although that didn’t make it easier for Rachel.

She had lost her own parents in a tragic road accident in her teens and, although Aunt Edith had been kind, Rachel had missed them dreadfully, still valued the years they’d had together as a family. She hated the idea that Jamie would never have the security of two loving parents as she’d had. Had she done the right thing today in telling Stephen what she had?

Rachel sat down on the sofa, recalling their meeting. It had taken on a certain unreality now, yet she didn’t need to try hard to recall how Stephen had looked at her, his eyes so cold and condemning...

A shiver ran through and she got up abruptly to add more coal to the fire. Outside in the street a car door slammed, followed by the sound of footsteps crossing the pavement. Rachel held her breath, her heart racing, but then the door to the adjoining house banged and voices came clearly through the thin dividing wall.

Rachel gave a gasping little sob as she sat down again. What had she imagined? That Stephen had come to see her again? Stephen had believed her story. He had nothing to come for! Anything she and Stephen Hunter had once shared was well and truly dead. Her heart ached at the thought.

The sudden ringing of the doorbell made Rachel jump. She hurried to the window but there was only the car parked next door. Obviously her neighbours had visitors and probably wanted to borrow some milk or something. It was that sort of community, and after the impersonality of the big estate where she and Jamie lived, Rachel found it a pleasant change.

Rachel didn’t bother to slip on the chain before she opened the door, and she felt the smile die on her lips. For a moment she couldn’t find her voice, and then it came out as a husky croak which betrayed only too clearly the shock she felt.

‘What... what do you want?’

Stephen arched both brows, the cool smile doing little to soften his austerely handsome face. ‘I thought I should drop round again. I realised that there were a lot of things we never got around to talking about before.’

‘Th—there’s nothing we need to talk about! Now if you don’t mind...’

Rachel started to close the door, but she was no match for Stephen as he calmly pushed it open and stepped inside. He glanced round, dwarfing the small, shabby hall with his powerful frame. He was wearing a black cashmere coat over a dinner suit and the thick wool added to the impression of bulk, emphasised the solid width of his shoulders, the power of his body.

Rachel had a sudden vivid mental flash of Stephen as he had been all those years before—his lean frame dressed in jeans and shirt, his dark hair falling across his forehead—and then the picture faded as abruptly as it had come and there seemed to be little left of the boy in the elegant figure of the man. Yet when Stephen turned to look at her there was just something in the depths of his eyes which made her heart catch...

Rachel looked away, scared by the sudden rush of warmth along her veins. What she had felt once for this man was long gone. Love couldn’t survive such an absence. Oh, the memory of it was still there, a warm glow which lingered long after the fire had burned out. That summer had been both the best and the worst time in her life, but she was no longer the girl who had loved the young Stephen Hunter with such desperation!

‘You seem surprised to see me, Rachel.’

‘I am surprised! I thought we said everything that needed to be said before.’

‘Did you? How odd. I think there’s still a lot we need to talk about.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘Even more than I imagined when I first came here today! I’ve been looking for you for a while now, Rachel, but it was only last night that I heard you’d come back to town.’

‘Looking for me...?’ Rachel’s heart seemed to jolt to a halt. ‘I don’t understand. Wh—why would you do that after all this time?’

Stephen smiled thinly. ‘Why indeed? Just a whim, I suppose. I’d reached a point in my life when it seemed time to make some changes. I decided to tie up a few loose ends, find the answers to all the questions which have puzzled me—although I must confess I wasn’t expecting to find out what I did!’

Rachel felt the ready colour run up her face. ‘I cannot see any point in...in raking over the past!’

‘Oh, but I can. So why don’t we go inside and sit down and chat about it like two old friends should?’

Her heart ached at the irony she heard in his voice. ‘Are we friends, though, Stephen? I think not.’

‘Once we were a lot more than just friends, Rachel, or so I believed. Can you blame me for wanting to find out how I could have made such a mistake?’ He gave a softly taunting laugh which curled through the air between them. ‘So, Rachel, what’s it to be? Can you spare a cup of coffee and a few minutes? Or do you think that is more than what we shared all those years ago warrants?’

Rachel felt the sting of that mocking reference to their past. She had grieved at the thought of spoiling the memory of what they had been to each other once, but obviously it meant little to Stephen now!

‘Why not? A cup of coffee seems the least I can offer after all this time. Go on through to the sitting room and make yourself comfortable. It won’t take long.’

Rachel held the brittle smile until Stephen had turned and walked along the hall. She closed her eyes on a wave of pain, wishing she had told him to leave rather than prolong the agony when there was so little point. Nothing could change what had happened in the past; nothing would alter what had happened today.

She and Stephen Hunter were so far apart now that it would be impossible to bridge the chasm between them!

Why had he come back?

Stephen glanced around the room, making no attempt to sit down. He was too tense to sit, too on edge to wait calmly for Rachel to come back with coffee he didn’t want to drink and she didn’t want to offer.

Impatiently he strode to the window, but there was little to be seen apart from the long terraces of houses—nothing to take his mind off the reason why he was here...

He swore roughly. Just a few short hours ago he had told himself that he could handle what Rachel had told him once he had taken steps to set his life back on course. Yet as he’d sat in the auditorium tonight, pretending to follow the opera, he had realised that it wasn’t that simple.

He had left his companion at her flat with some excuse he couldn’t even remember now and driven over here, ready to make Rachel tell him the whole sordid tale from start to finish before he put it out of his mind for good. Now God alone knew just how much he was regretting the impulse! How could he forget how Rachel had betrayed him?

Stephen prowled restlessly, picking up an ornament from the shelf in the alcove, putting it down to reach for another. He stopped, his attention caught by a photograph in a cheap cardboard frame. Almost of its own volition, his hand went out to pick it up while the memories flowed through him like bitter-sweet wine and the years fell away...

‘Who is she?’

Robert opened one eye and followed the direction of his cousin’s gaze then sank back onto the sand with a heavy sigh. ‘Venus, Aphrodite—the embodiment of perfect womanhood...’

‘Thanks!’ Stephen gave Robert a friendly punch on the shoulder, his eyes following the girl as she walked along the beach. He hadn’t seen her before, he was certain; he would have remembered if he had! It wasn’t just that silver-gilt hair which flowed down her back, or the purity of her profile, it was the way she moved so gracefully, so regally...

Stephen pushed himself up from the sand, his grey eyes full of determination which made his cousin groan. ‘Uh-oh! I hope she’s read her horoscope and knows that a tall, dark, handsome...’ Robert paused. ‘No, let’s not get too carried away—that a tall, dark stranger is going to cross her path today. I wouldn’t like her to get too much of a shock.’

Stephen ignored the teasing banter. He and Robert were more like brothers than cousins. They were almost the same age, with Stephen just six months the senior, and had been inseparable since childhood. The fact that their fathers were twins had probably forged a closer bond than normal, although he and Robert looked little alike apart from both having the same slate-grey eyes.

‘I won’t be long, but...’

‘But don’t wait if you’re not back by sundown.’

Robert waved him off, closing his eyes again as he sank back onto the warm sand. Stephen grinned, wondering how anyone could happily live his life at such a slow pace. At nineteen years of age Stephen was burning with ambition. Getting a job—any job—seemed the sum total of his friends’ aspirations, but Stephen wanted so much more that there wasn’t a limit on what he intended to achieve...

Purposefully he closed the gap between himself and the girl, his long, powerful legs eating up the distance. The day was hot and he’d stripped down to old denim cut-offs. His skin was darkly tanned from working outdoors and his body was lean, fit, the wide shoulders and narrow hips drawing appreciative looks from a group of girls he passed, but Stephen didn’t even glance their way. His eyes were centred on the slender, elegant back of the blonde up ahead.

In contrast to most people on the beach, who were wearing as little as was decent, she was covered from throat to ankle by a floating dress of pale cream cotton. The breeze caught the delicate fabric as she walked so that the skirt moulded to the shape of her long, slender legs, the bodice clinging to the high curve of her small breasts in a way which was far more provocative than any scanty bikini.

Stephen felt desire stir inside him, hot and vibrant. He quickened his pace until he came level with her. She glanced round then looked away, her face faintly flushed as she carried on walking just a shade faster, but Stephen had no difficulty in keeping up with her.

They walked like that for several minutes, neither speaking, Stephen watching her with long sideways looks she couldn’t help but notice. Then suddenly she stopped, her brown eyes stormy as she turned to face him.

‘What do you want?’

She had a soft voice, sweet and musical, despite the annoyance which touched it. Stephen felt a small thrill of pleasure that it should so exactly match his expectations. He gave her a slow smile, his eyes glittering with an appreciation she’d have needed to be blind not to see.

‘You.’

For a moment she appeared dumbstruck, then suddenly laughed with genuine amusement. It surprised him because he’d half expected some frosty response, had almost been looking forward to overcoming any initial resistance she might show. But obviously she didn’t intend to play the game the way he had planned it.

‘Mmm, so what do you want me to say to that, I wonder?’ She chewed her lower lip, delicate white teeth showing against a soft red mouth which bore no trace of lipstick. She tilted her head to one side so that her hair swung over her shoulder, the fine strands glittering like spun gold in the sunlight.

Stephen felt his palms dampen. He looked away, afraid of what might be on his face right then, faintly shocked by his own reaction. He was popular with the girls—in the town and beyond—his dark good looks and confidence a potent combination he had long since learned to use to full advantage. Yet right at that moment he felt gauche and inexperienced. It wasn’t a pleasant feeling.

‘Well, come along, tell me. You’ve followed me all this way down the beach so you may as well.’

Sudden laughter touched Stephen’s mouth as his confidence surged back, but he knew enough not to grab too greedily at the small advantage. He merely raised both brows in an expression which was both quizzical and knowing.

‘How do you know how far I’ve followed you?’ His deep voice hummed with meaning. The girl gasped, her hand covering her mouth for a second before she let it fall to her side and laughed again, slightly ruefully this time.

‘Well, I did just happen to notice you...’

Stephen laughed at the admission as well, overwhelmed by a sense of well being. He looked back along the beach, deliberately measuring the distance to where Robert was lying. ‘Then all things considered maybe we should introduce ourselves. I’m Stephen Hunter.’

‘Rachel Harris.’ She held her hand out to him in a gesture which was unexpected and strangely touching.

Stephen took it, feeling the coolness of her flesh, the way her slender fingers barely filled his far larger palm. When she drew her hand away he felt a sense of loss which stunned him. He hastened to disguise it as Rachel started to speak.

‘Well, I really must go.’

She began to edge away and Stephen realised he was going to miss his chance if he didn’t get his act together. Yet, strangely, the last thing he wanted was to go through the routine he had used so often and so effectively in the past.

Impulsively he caught Rachel’s arm, then let her go when she glanced down with a cool hauteur which brought the colour to his face and a tightness to his voice.

‘How about letting me buy you a drink?’ He nodded towards the refreshment stand further along the beach. ‘A Coke sounds good to me on a day like today.’

‘I’m sorry, I really can’t. I have to go. Some other time, perhaps.’

She was already walking away before she had even finished speaking, the polite words more a dismissal than a real statement of regret. Stephen watched her striding along the beach, the sun in her hair, the breeze catching her dress, and knew there and then that he wanted to see her again. Frankly, he couldn’t recall ever wanting anything so much...!

‘Here we are. I’m sorry it’s only instant. Aunt Edith never drinks...drank anything else.’

Rachel came in with the tray, pausing when Stephen stared blankly at her before he put down whatever he had been holding. He turned to take off his overcoat and she wondered if she had imagined the expression on his face.

She set the tray down on the small table in front of the sofa and handed him a cup, spilling a little coffee into the saucer when Stephen’s fingers brushed hers as he took it from her.

‘Thank you.’

Stephen’s voice grated, resonant with something which made Rachel’s heart leap, perhaps a reflection of what she thought she had seen on his face just now. Yet when she chanced another look at him there was nothing but coldness in his eyes.

Rachel sipped her own coffee, feeling the hot sting of tears behind her lids. What a fool she was to look for something which had died a long time ago. Stephen felt nothing for her now, nothing at all!

She took a deep breath, disguising the pain beneath a veneer of politeness. ‘So, how have you been? Obviously life has treated you well, Stephen.’

Stephen settled back in the chair and crossed one long leg over the other, a cynical smile touching his mouth. ‘If you mean am I a rich man now, Rachel, then the answer is yes. I can honestly say that I have more money than I really know what to do with.’

His tone was mocking; it brought a sudden heat to her cheeks. Rachel set her cup down, her eyes blazing. ‘That wasn’t what I asked! Frankly, I don’t give a damn whether or not you’re rich as Croesus, Stephen. Life doesn’t revolve around money, and if you haven’t discovered that yet then pity help you!’

There was a moment’s silence before Stephen replied, his tone less abrasive. ‘I apologise. Let me answer your question the way you meant it to be answered, then. I have achieved all I set out to and probably more than I’d hoped, but it hasn’t been easy. There have been failures to set against the successes, including a marriage which ended in divorce.’

Rachel felt the shock ripple through her in small waves and looked down at her hands. ‘I...I didn’t know that you’d been married.’

‘Why should you? We went our separate ways many years ago, Rachel. Why should you know anything about what has happened to me since? And it’s obvious that I know very little about what has happened to you!’

Stephen raised his cup, noticing in surprise that his hand was trembling. He took a sip of the coffee then set the cup down on the table, not enjoying the fact that Rachel could still affect him in any way at all. ‘So, tell me, are you married?’

She shook her head, her pale hair shimmering as it caught the light from the old glass fitment overhead. ‘No, I’ve never been married.’

‘Why not?’ He shrugged lightly enough but his gaze was searching. ‘Surely you must know that the last thing Robert would have wanted was for you to waste your life grieving for him?’

God, how the lies grew and demanded more! Rachel’s hands tightened on the soft cord of her trousers, her fingers cold as ice. ‘Maybe I just never found anyone to...to match up to him.’

Stephen felt the pain of that statement like a physical blow. His voice was hard and uncompromising with the effort not to show how he felt. ‘I see. A touching tribute to my cousin, indeed. I must say, Rachel, that I never suspected how you and Robert felt at the time—although, thinking about it in the light of recent revelations, I suppose there were signs if I had taken the trouble to read them properly.’

‘What do you mean?’ Rachel stared at him in confusion.

He gave a soft laugh which made a shiver dance down her spine because it reminded her for a moment of how Stephen had used to laugh. But when she looked at him there was no hint of genuine amusement in his glittering eyes, little trace of the Stephen she had once loved so desperately.

‘Oh, small things which seemed insignificant at the time, like the way you and Robert used to laugh together over some magazine story or other.’ Stephen smiled narrowly, studying her with an almost clinical detachment. ‘You and he always did share the same off-beat sense of humour, didn’t you, Rachel, the same sense of the ridiculous? I used to be pleased that you and Robert got on so well. Only, apparently, it wasn’t quite so innocent as it seemed! However, I don’t blame Robert for what happened. He was undoubtedly as taken in as I was.

‘Still, that’s all water under the bridge, as they say, and I do think that you are making a mistake by clinging to the past. The boy needs a father, and I’m sure that Robert would have been the first to agree with that sentiment.’

Robert most probably would have! Dear, sweet Robert, who would have forgiven her these lies because he had understood only too well what Stephen was like and how much Rachel had loved him!

Rachel couldn’t believe that Stephen was actually saying these things, that he really could read more into the innocent friendship she and Robert had enjoyed than had been there. Yet wasn’t that just what she had wanted? She had wanted to convince Stephen that Jamie wasn’t his child, yet that very success left behind a bitterly unpalatable taste.

‘I’m sure you’re right, but unfortunately life isn’t quite that simple.’ Rachel gave a strained laugh, aching at the thought of how readily Stephen had dismissed all they had been to one another. ‘Few men are interested in taking on another man’s child, Stephen, so the offers haven’t exactly been pouring in over the years.’

‘But I’m sure there must have been some. You are a beautiful woman, Rachel. The boy would be just a minor handicap in most men’s eyes.’

‘I don’t want my son to be viewed as a “handicap”!’ Her eyes blazed back at him. ‘Not even if it means spending the rest of my life alone. I have made a life for Jamie and myself without help. I saw no need to...to sell myself for a meal ticket!’

Stephen’s smile was cynical. ‘That wasn’t what I was suggesting. However, it isn’t beyond the realms of possibility that you might meet someone and fall in love, is it?’ He paused deliberately, ‘That is if you really understand what love is, Rachel.’

Rachel knew that Stephen was alluding to the fact that she had told him that she loved him so many times and yet, apparently, had gone off with Robert! Her heart ached, but the anger she felt carried her through the pain.

Stephen should have known that she had loved him...him, no one else! The fact that he doubted her just proved what a sham their relationship had been.

Rachel got to her feet rather shakily but her voice was steady. ‘I know what it means to be in love, Stephen. I know how it feels to put someone else’s needs before your own, to make a decision you know you will regret because it is the only one which will make the person you love happy. I know what real love is, but do you? Answer me that!’

Stephen stood up too, big and intimidating as he faced her. There was a nerve ticking along his jaw and his lips were drawn into a tight line which spoke of restraint. But there was no heat in his anger when he answered. It was icily controlled, and far more hurtful because of that.

‘Oh, I know what love is, Rachel. I know what a fool it makes of a man so that he sees things in a woman which aren’t there, believes things which aren’t true because he is blind to the truth.’ He gave a contemptuous laugh. ‘I know that above all else, above the passion and the desire, love means fidelity and trust—and they are two things you have no conception of and probably never will have. So don’t stand there, Rachel, and lecture me on love, because you don’t have any idea what you’re talking about!’

Stephen picked up his overcoat and left, the sound of the front door slamming echoing like an accusation. Rachel stood where she was, her hands clenched at her sides, her whole body stiff with pain yet she couldn’t cry. Tears wouldn’t relieve this agony she felt. It went too deep and hurt too much. To know just how low she had sunk in Stephen’s estimation was almost more than she could bear.