The Secret Father Read online

  ‘Now don’t go all double standards on me, Doctor. You weren’t exactly displaying professional interest in my body back there. Don’t get embarrassed about it— I’m used to being treated like a sex object. Your mouth’s open,’ he observed gently, reaching forward to tilt her jaw upwards. ‘I was only making an honest evaluation. I have to say I thought I was pretty good at summing people up, but I was quite wrong with you. I know this is clichéd, but you really should get mad more often.’

  ‘Well, really,’ she said weakly. She knew sexual chemistry when she felt it; she’d felt it before with disastrous consequences. That fact alone ought to have made it easy to laugh away his glib nonsense. He was an actor; deceit was second nature to him; she had to get out of this situation—fast!

  ‘You hide behind that cool, classy exterior, but I don’t believe it any more, so why pretend? I much prefer you uncoordinated and clumsy—more human. You don’t need props.’ His voice was soothingly seductive as he pulled away the towel clutched to her bosom. ‘That’s a start.’ The unconfined sway of her breasts made his breath come faster.

  Heat crawled over her skin where his eyes touched—caressed. ‘You should put some ice on your nose,’ she said, desperation creeping into her voice as, simultaneously, paralysis crept into her limbs.

  It was a blur to her, but somehow she had straddled his lap, her skirt riding indecently high against her thighs, and her face was being held firmly between his hands. His lips were firm, cool and unalarming. With a small cry her arms went around his neck and she stopped being passive. It was as if he’d tapped into a source she hadn’t known was there—an elemental, fiery core.

  It was Sam’s turn to look startled when they broke apart. ‘Wow!’ His flippancy didn’t have the ring of authenticity about it.

  ‘Lindy, we’re home!’ The lilting sound of her sister’s voice rang out as the kitchen door was flung open.

  ‘Timing is everything,’ Sam muttered under his breath.

  ‘I see you’ve met Sam.’ Dry as dust, Hope’s voice cut through the startled silence.

  I’ll strangle her, Lindy decided. After I drown myself, she added silently. She glanced resentfully at the floor which still hadn’t opened up and swallowed her.

  Hope and the man beside her slowly took in the scene before them and to Lindy it seemed to take them for ever. With each agonising second her feelings of self-disgust grew.

  ‘Nice afternoon, you two?’ Sam said, his tone betraying no evidence of discomfort.

  ‘Not as interesting as yours.’ The expression in the older man’s eyes made Lindy cringe inside. Her face froze and her spine straightened to attention. She slid off Sam’s knee, stopping his objection with one cold glance.

  ‘There was an accident,’ she said. I sound normal, she realised with amazement. ‘Mr Rourke…’

  Sam snorted at her formality. ‘Dr Lacey,’ he said sardonically, ‘butted me in the face. Busted my nose.’

  The humour faded dramatically from Lloyd’s face. For the first time he seemed to notice the evidence of bloodstains. ‘Hell-fire, Sam, have you any idea how much over budget we could be if you mess up your face?’ he demanded hotly. ‘The insurance premiums we pay because you insist on doing those damned stunts are astronomical as it is.’

  Sam shot Lindy an ironic look before he replied. ‘The doctor assures me my beauty is undimmed.’

  ‘I can see a damned bruise. I swear I can,’ Lloyd insisted. ‘Put some ice on it, Sam,’ he said, reaching into a bowl Lindy had left on the counter.

  ‘I think I’ll go and freshen up,’ Lindy said.

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ Hope responded, and Lindy could see the speculation dancing in her sister’s eyes.

  ‘Don’t push it now,’ Lindy advised quietly as they left the room. To her relief, Hope took the hint. She knew she’d have to face the speculation and questions sooner or later, but right now it was going to be hard enough to justify her brazen behaviour to herself, let alone anyone else!

  CHAPTER TWO

  LINDY didn’t look up as her sister came in and lay on the patchwork counterpane of her bed. Hope lifted one long, tanned leg, revealed pleasingly in a pair of denim shorts, and examined her painted toenails silently.

  ‘Good journey?’ she said brightly.

  Lindy knew this wasn’t the question she was longing to ask. What she really wanted to know was how her restrained sister had managed to end up on Sam Rourke’s lap in a passionate clinch after an extremely short acquaintance.

  ‘I’ve no idea how it happened,’ she said abruptly, glaring half-defiantly at Hope in the dressing-table mirror she was facing. She tapped ineffectually at her honey-blonde hair with a silver-backed brush and frowned at her reflection.

  ‘The journey or…?’ Hope raised her eyebrows dramatically.

  ‘Or…’ Lindy confirmed quickly, before her sister went into painful detail.

  ‘Well, if you’re going to go all spontaneous and passionate it might as well be with Sam. He is about as delicious as men get.’ She ran her tongue across her lips as if relishing the thought and swung herself upright, tucking one leg neatly underneath the other in the lotus position.

  ‘It wasn’t what it looked like. I don’t go for beef cake. People as obviously good-looking as him only exist in soaps—daytime soaps!’

  ‘Miss hoity-toity!’ Hope taunted. ‘Let your mind wander back a few minutes.’

  Lindy covered her face with her hands and groaned. ‘Don’t!’ she pleaded, her bravado disintegrating. She spread her fingers and peeped out at her sister. ‘I can’t believe I…’ She shrugged her shoulders and her hands fell away from her face. ‘You know… It’s awful!’

  ‘Heavens, I’m supposed to be the tragedy queen of the family,’ said Hope. ‘Don’t tell me he’s got bad breath—I have some semi-lecherous scenes with the man.’

  ‘I’m surprised you haven’t been practising.’ Lindy bit her lip when, after a startled silence, her sister burst out laughing. ‘I’m glad you find this funny,’ Lindy snapped, spinning around on her stool. The idea of her gorgeous sister sampling the pleasures of Sam’s lips and heaven knew what else made her feel very bad-tempered. ‘Is he still here?’

  ‘Lloyd’s gone but, if you mean Sam, he’s staying here. I was going to surprise you.’

  ‘Oh, you did, Hope, you did. I made a total fool of myself.’

  ‘A few kisses!’ Hope shrugged. ‘It was just a few kisses, wasn’t it? All right, don’t blow a fuse,’ she said hastily. ‘Rigid principles are all well and good, but sometimes the best of us weaken given temptation.’

  Lindy put aside her own problems for a moment as she recalled the insinuations Sam had made about Hope and the rather daunting man she had recently, if briefly, met. ‘Are you speaking from personal experience here?’

  ‘You and Sam did spend some time talking, then, before you ripped off his clothes.’

  Lindy firmly put aside the startling image of Sam Rourke’s perfect frame. She wasn’t about to be diverted from her theme. The cautious expression she had seen briefly in her sister’s eyes had been enough to worry her.

  ‘I can’t think of any reason to undress a man who is capable of doing it for himself.’ She couldn’t let this assumption pass unchallenged.

  ‘I could enumerate them,’ her sister offered generously.

  ‘I think Sam didn’t want me to be taken by surprise by the gossip,’ Lindy said swiftly—too swiftly. It was faintly shocking to realise that her own brain was fertile enough to make any lesson from Hope on the subject redundant.

  ‘Sam’s no gossip,’ Hope acceded. ‘Unfortunately, he’s a minority of one. I’m not having an affair with Lloyd.’

  Lindy met her sister’s eyes and gave a sigh of relief. ‘I’m glad; I’d hate for you to be hurt. I know how…’ Her voice thickened.

  Hope came over and gave her a quick hug. ‘It was an awfully long time ago,’ she said softly, compassion in her eyes. ‘No matter how it looks, I’m not involv
ed with Lloyd, at least not in that way.’

  ‘Do you think it’s wise to spend the day with him and fuel people’s speculation?’

  Hope got to her feet. ‘People’s nasty minds are not my problem,’ she observed sharply.

  Lindy didn’t think this was a very practical position to take, but she didn’t voice her doubts. ‘Perhaps they’ll think you’re having an affair with Sam—he is living here.’

  ‘He’s only stopping for a couple more days. He has a boat that he usually lives on. It’s down here, but it’s in dry dock having its keel hauled or whatever they do to boats. The hotels are overflowing with our lot and, besides, the poor lamb likes his privacy. Anyway, he’s a much better cook than I am.’

  ‘That’s no great recommendation,’ Lindy said, recalling some of her sister’s more spectacular culinary exploits. ‘Ducks have been known to sink when fed your soufflé.’

  ‘I’ll probably marry a chef,’ Hope said thoughtfully. ‘A tall one,’ she added with a chuckle as she ducked her head to avoid a low beam. ‘Do you like the room? Isn’t the place a find?’

  ‘It’s lovely, Hope. Or am I supposed to call you Lacey here?’

  ‘Don’t you dare! Is it going to be a problem for you with Sam here?’ she said, her expression growing serious. ‘I could ask him to find somewhere else.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ The last thing she wanted to do was play up the whole trivial incident. He was attractive and he’d kissed her—and she’d kissed him, a pedantic voice annoyingly added. She could share a roof with the man and show him how little she was affected by the experience. ‘It was a momentary aberration, that’s all.’

  ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do,’ Lindy responded firmly, not much caring for the tone of her sister’s voice.

  It turned out that Hope hadn’t exaggerated the dratted man’s culinary talents. She and Hope returned from a stroll along the beach later that evening to find the table set and delicious smells emanating from the galley kitchen.

  ‘That smell’s terrific, you lovely man, you.’ Hope peeled off the jacket she had worn against the evening chill, shook out her golden mane and threw her arms around Sam’s neck. She ritually kissed him on both cheeks and Lindy, watching, couldn’t believe that any man wouldn’t be bowled over by her warmth and vitality. ‘I might just keep you on.’

  ‘Sorry, honey, but my heart belongs to Jennifer.’

  ‘What a waste,’ she replied with a grin.

  Lindy quietly took her place at the table and hoped her strong desire to ask about the identity of Jennifer was not as easy to detect as she suspected it was. Did Jennifer know he went around kissing perfect strangers?

  ‘Do you feel better after your rest, Rosalind?’ Sam asked as Hope helped herself to a generous portion of home-made pasta.

  ‘Much, thank you.’ Like a coward, she’d avoided contact with him earlier in the evening by pleading exhaustion—a cop-out, and he probably knew it. It had worked, though. She could now be perfectly objective about his smouldering sexuality.

  She heaved a sigh. Who am I kidding? she thought. Seeing him now made her realise that pretending the incident earlier hadn’t happened just wasn’t feasible. It went against the grain, but she’d have to accept that for some inexplicable reason, and even though he symbolised the things she despised in men—the excessive good looks, the calculating charm—she was attracted to him in a basic sort of way. I’m damned if I’m going to act like some star-struck teenager, she decided, lifting her head and looking him firmly in the eye. Both eyes, actually—deep, mesmerising eyes.

  She broke a bread roll and found her hands were trembling. ‘Hope tells me you have a boat.’

  ‘She’s having her hull shot-blasted, but she’ll be back on the water by the weekend. So you’ll be rid of me. That is what you want, isn’t it?’ The latter was said in a voice meant only for her ears, and Lindy sensed the confusion she was fighting was mirrored in her eyes.

  ‘You’ll have to get used to eating out, Lindy, or cook,’ Hope said with her mouth full. Her sister did everything with such enthusiasm and lack of inhibition that Lindy suddenly felt stilted and awkward by comparison. She was sure Sam must see the contrast. Why on earth should I care if he does? she wondered, angry at this bizarre preoccupation she had with the man.

  ‘You’ll have to come for a sail on Jennifer when the schedule permits.’ He caught Lindy’s flicker of comprehension. ‘You thought she was a woman, my Jennifer?’ He filled her glass with wine and leaned back in his chair. The candlelight shadowed the planes and hollows of his aesthetically sculpted face and left his eyes areas of mystery.

  ‘Named for a woman, it’s almost the same thing,’ she responded, realising how astute he was at interpreting the slightest nuance in body language.

  ‘Not one of mine. I never bothered changing the name when I got her ten years back. The longest relationship I’ve ever had with a female,’ he acknowledged with a lecherous grin.

  Hope gave a laugh, accepting the gauntlet. ‘Hark at the sex symbol of our times,’ she teased. ‘‘‘Not one of mine.’’’

  Rather to Lindy’s surprise, Sam seemed to appreciate Hope’s mockery. ‘Keeping the name means I don’t have to worry about changing the paintwork every time I part company with a lady.’

  ‘This boy isn’t as stupid as he looks,’ Hope said, impressed. ‘I’ll get it,’ she added as the phone shrilled.

  ‘How’s the nose?’ Lindy asked, quelling the panic that threatened as Hope disappeared.

  ‘Lloyd thinks it’ll be fine if we stick to my left profile.’

  ‘Seriously?’ she said, examining his perfect right profile.

  ‘Candlelight conceals all sorts of nasty things,’ he said, running his palm lightly over the candle in the middle of the table.

  ‘You shouldn’t play with fire,’ she warned sharply. She wanted to snatch his hand away from the flame, but she knew that touching Sam Rourke wasn’t a good idea. He’d awoken feelings inside her she’d thought had died for ever.

  ‘Life would be boring.’ His deep tone had never been more honeyed.

  Lindy found she couldn’t pull her eyes away from his deceptively sleepy gaze. Heavy, sexy eyelids drooped over the steady glitter of his azure stare.

  ‘I like boring,’ she said firmly. Boring, safe and familiar—and Sam was none of those things.

  ‘Shame.’

  ‘I’ll have to love you and leave you.’

  Lindy tore her stare from Sam to look with incomprehension at her sister, who had entered the room carrying an overnight bag over her shoulder. ‘Leave…where?’

  ‘I’ll explain later. Sam will show you where to go tomorrow.’

  ‘You’re not coming back tonight?’ I must have misunderstood, she thought in bewilderment.

  ‘Can’t stop, I’m in a hurry.’ Hope avoided her sister’s eyes.

  Lindy sat in shock, listening a few moments later to the sound of a car engine being started. The sound disappeared and she expelled the breath she’d been holding.

  ‘This is bizarre,’ she said, half to herself. It was so unlike Hope to do something so inconsiderate. Leave her alone with— Her heart gave a triple beat as she shrank from this new situation. Slowly she turned to look at Sam.

  ‘I’ve been here the best part of a week and Hope’s only spent two nights at home.’ He gave the information slowly, his eyes gauging her reaction.

  ‘Meaning?’ Lindy said, with a dangerous inflection in her voice.

  ‘She’s your sister.’

  ‘She’s not having an affair.’ She was stubbornly defiant and confident that, whatever her sister was up to, it wasn’t that.

  ‘You asked her?’

  ‘I did.’

  ‘Fair enough, but I have to say she seems to be doing her best to disprove that statement.’

  ‘Hope wouldn’t run just because some man picks up the phone. That would be pathetic,’ she observed with distaste. ‘There has to be some other explana
tion,’ she reasoned.

  ‘That could be love,’ Sam suggested lightly. ‘Wouldn’t you do the same for the man you loved?’

  ‘In a pig’s eye!’

  ‘I believe you,’ he said thoughtfully, examining her flushed cheeks and indignant expression. ‘I take it you did a lot of running for someone unworthy of the exercise?’

  ‘When I was young and extremely foolish,’ she admitted stiffly. Inwardly, she was appalled that this man could see so much behind her unguarded words. What was she doing being unguarded? Hadn’t her defences been built to survive any assault? ‘I’d bore you with the salacious details but I’ve forgotten them.’

  ‘I doubt that— Don’t,’ he said, catching her wrist as she pushed back her chair to get up.

  Lindy looked at the brown hand covering her narrow wrist and his fingers slowly unfurled. She could still feel the impression of his hand, like a brand on her skin. Shakily, her anger suddenly dispersing like hot air from a pricked balloon, she sat down.

  ‘I know my sister.’ Her eyes met his surprisingly compassionate ones.

  ‘There’s no point us arguing about it, is there?’ he said persuasively. ‘I like Hope, I like Lloyd. I’ve no axe to grind. Just remember family loyalties can take a back seat when passion gets involved.’

  The warning was well meant, she could see that. She thought of Anna, married now to Adam, and knew he was right. Priorities did change. A year ago she would have told Anna about her problems at work, but now she hadn’t. ‘I wouldn’t like to see Hope get hurt.’

  ‘She’s a big girl and well able to take care of herself. All you can do is be there if she falls flat on her face.’

  ‘You could be right,’ she mused with a sigh.

  ‘Nine times out of ten.’

  ‘Don’t you take anything seriously?’ Part of her wanted to respond to the beguiling smile in his eyes. This weakness made her angry.

  ‘I think that’s a virtue,’ he declared. ‘You think it’s a fault,’ he added sadly. ‘Actually, I take my work seriously, although I try hard not to let it take over my life. That’s why you can relax about me…us. I’ve worked hard to get myself prepared for this role. I can’t even blame the director if I blow it—as he’s me! A bit like a fighter before a big fight, I’m saving myself.’