Yesterday's Scars

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘He isn’t my Carl, Rafe,’ she told him softly.

  ‘So I gathered. Celia’s been up to her tricks again.’

  ‘It wasn’t Celia’s fault. Carl was smitten from the beginning.’

  ‘With a little encouragement from her. That’s why you were acting so much out of character this evening, wasn’t it?’ he guessed shrewdly. ‘Letting all those boys touch and caress you.’

  ‘They didn’t touch me, Rafe,’ she denied. ‘I just danced with them.’

  ‘And I didn’t like it.’

  ‘You—you didn’t?’

  ‘No,’ his voice had lowered huskily again. ‘You said earlier that you wanted to talk about things. I decided we should talk about it too, that’s why I went to your room. There seemed only one way to settle this thing between us—talk it out.’

  She licked her dry lips. ‘What do you want to say?’

  His gaze slid slowly over her bare shoulders, smoothing the creamy skin with his thumbs. ‘Now that I’ve found you I don’t want to say anything. Oh God, Hazel, why did you come back!’

  ‘I had to, Rafe. I had to!’ she cried. And she knew it was true. It hadn’t been Celia’s telegram that had brought her home, she would have come back eventually without that.

  ‘I know,’ he groaned. ‘And in a way I’m glad that you did. But I’m finding it so difficult keeping my hands off you.’

  But his hands were on her, sending electric thrills up and down her spine. ‘Then don’t try, Rafe. Don’t try!’ Her eyes pleaded with him.

  His dark head bent and he took savage possession of her mouth, forcing her back on the bed and leaning heavily on her body.

  This was what she had been waiting for, what caused the tense atmosphere between them until it was at exploding point. She curved sinuously into his arms, her hands at the nape of his neck as she caressed the dark hair that grew there.

  Her mouth opened like a flower beneath his, his lips working a familiar magic that was hard to deny. His hands moved over her body with avid intensity, curving over her breast to caress and arouse her to such a pitch of excitement that she cried out his name.

  His lips moved to her throat as she gasped her heated pleasure. ‘This is what you wanted all along, isn’t it?’ he moaned throatily. ‘This and the knowledge that you can still arouse me. Well, you can.’ He gave a bitter laugh. ‘Hell, you know that.’

  She didn’t want to talk, she just wanted him to love her. She showered featherlight kisses on his face and throat, ever conscious of her own nakedness as he touched her. She turned towards the candle, their only illumination, and blew it out.

  She could instantly feel Rafe moving away from her, his withdrawal complete as he towered above her in the darkness. ‘Why did you do that?’ he rasped angrily.

  Her eyes were wide and bewildered. ‘It was so light. I—I felt shy.’

  ‘You felt shy!’ he mimicked cruelly, picking up the box of matches to relight the candle. ‘You didn’t feel shy the last time we were together.’

  ‘Don’t be cruel, Rafe,’ she choked. ‘I didn’t know what I was doing then.’

  ‘No, because you were drunk. But you weren’t drunk enough to stop me knowing every inch of you.’ His mouth turned with a sneer. ‘That’s what you wanted, isn’t it, everything as it was the last time.’

  ‘No, I—’

  ‘Don’t deny it, Hazel. But you see it can’t be the same; erasing the light in here won’t make my scars any less a fact. And it won’t alter the fact that we shouldn’t have been here alone together again. Why do you think I sent you away? Certainly not so that you could come back here and continue things where they left off.’

  ‘You—you sent me away?’ she repeated disbelievingly.

  His mouth twisted into a smile. ‘Well, you certainly couldn’t stay here, not after what had happened between us.’

  ‘So you got rid of me,’ she said bitterly.

  ‘It wasn’t a question of getting rid of you, it was a question of it might happen again—as it just did,’ he added grimly.

  She blushed painfully. ‘Not quite.’

  ‘No,’ he admitted, his fingertips running ruefully over his scarred cheek. ‘But only because of these.’

  Hazel looked at him sharply. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I mean we aren’t in the bed together right now because you couldn’t stand the sight of me,’ Rafe explained harshly.

  She gasped. ‘That isn’t true!’

  ‘No?’ he quirked one dark eyebrow. ‘Then maybe the feeling between us just wasn’t there any more. Whatever reason you choose to tell yourself, we both know the real reason. I’ll remove myself from your sight now, but I want you back at the house within the hour.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘Within the hour, Hazel,’ he repeated sternly, slamming the door after him.

  As soon as the door closed Hazel fell back against the pillows, tears streaming down her face. She had known it had to happen, that complete explosion of feeling between them, but she hadn’t expected it to end so disastrously. And Rafe had said he sent her away three years ago!

  She had always thought it had been her own decision to leave, but it seemed she had been wrong. Now that she thought about it perhaps her departure had been arranged with a certain amount of haste, and with the minimum of effort on her part. And there was the added fact that Rafe knew Jonathan. It all added up to convince her that what he had said was the truth.

  Not that she could wholly blame him; things had been very tense between them before she had left. And the reason for that had happened on a night very similar to this one, except that it had had a very different ending.

  It had been the night of her eighteenth birthday, a night when she had drunk too much, flirted too much, and tempted Rafe just, once too often. She had been practising her womanly wiles on him for several months prior to this, and on her birthday she had behaved outrageously, dancing and flirting with so many boys they had all fused into one. Rafe had become angrier and angrier, finally dragging her away from the party and sending her to her room.

  Her success with all those boys had been too new, and she certainly hadn’t felt like sleeping. She had crept out of the house and down to the cabin, and that was where Rafe had stormed in on her.

  What had followed had been the most momentous experience in her entire life. She had never imagined that making love could be like that. But Rafe had made sure it was the height of enjoyment for her, caressing her body until there had come a point of no return.

  There had been no feelings of guilt then, and she had spent the rest of the hours until morning in his arms. Morning had brought a return of reality, and any friendship that might have existed between them prior to that night had been sorely tested over the next few weeks. There had been only one course of action open to her, and Rafe had not opposed her desire to leave.

  Now she knew why; Rafe had wanted her out of his life. It was almost as if he were blaming her for everything that had happened between them, whereas she had always believed it took the involvement of two for that sort of thing. Oh yes, she had encouraged him, but he hadn’t exactly tried to resist her.

  But now she had to get back to the house, she had already wasted half the allotted time Rafe had given her. She dressed hurriedly and made her way back up to the house and going to her bedroom.

  Rafe didn’t come to check up on her, probably because he knew she daren’t oppose him, especially after their earlier encounter. In future she would avoid any risk of their letting things get out of control, she wouldn’t let Rafe have the satisfaction of putting her down again.

  * * *

  Hazel had eaten quite a hearty breakfast, the lack of food from the previous day not being impaired by the upset of the night that had just passed. She hadn’t seen anyone this morning, neither Celia nor Rafe, but perhaps that was as well in the circumstances. She wasn’t up to facing either of them, but for completely different reasons.

  Sara fussed around
her during her meal, scolding her for not eating dinner the evening before. Hazel had managed to laugh and joke with the housekeeper as usual, but she was far from feeling her normal self. This was partly the reason she decided to spend the morning in Rafe’s study typing his replies; it would keep her out of everyone’s way.

  But it appeared Celia had other ideas. She walked into the study about eleven-thirty, munching a crisp green apple. ‘Hi,’ she leant against the side of the desk. ‘How are you today?’

  ‘I’m fine,’ Hazel said primly. ‘Shouldn’t I be asking you that?’

  ‘Me? There’s nothing wrong with me.’

  ‘Oh no, of course there isn’t.’ Hazel sat back. ‘You weren’t the one involved in the fight.’

  Celia laughed. ‘No, your Carl was. He was quite magnificent, Hazel. He rushed to my defence like an angry child.’

  ‘And got hurt for his efforts,’ Hazel said disgustedly.

  ‘Oh, he didn’t get hurt.’ Celia came round the desk to look at the work Hazel was doing, still munching the apple. She looked away uninterestedly when she saw what it was. ‘He’s much fitter than any of my crowd could ever hope to be. No, I’m afraid it was three of them that landed up in hospital. Carl is probably at home nursing a few bruises, but other than that he’s none the worse for wear.’

  ‘I don’t suppose it occurred to you to find out if he is all right?’

  ‘Why should I want to do that?’ Celia sounded surprised.

  Hazel shook her head in disgust. ‘He did get hurt defending you.’

  ‘Defending my honour,’ Celia mocked. ‘Little did he realise there wasn’t much to defend. But I suppose I should call him, I wouldn’t want to disillusion him.’

  ‘I think it would take quite a lot to do that. He seems to have fallen hard.’

  Celia smiled to herself. ‘Yes, he does, doesn’t he? Aren’t you annoyed about that, Hazel? Not even a little bit?’

  Hazel read through the letter she was typing, checking for mistakes. ‘Not even a little bit, Celia,’ she denied, looking up at her. ‘Was I supposed to be?’

  Celia shrugged. ‘Not particularly. I quite like your Carl. At least he’s a change. I found it quite exciting to be with the strong silent type.’

  ‘Never mind the fact that you’ll drop him just as quickly when he ceases to be exciting,’ Hazel said dryly.

  Celia yawned boredly. ‘I don’t think that will be for some time yet. He’s quite a man. I didn’t get home until three o’clock this morning.’

  Hazel’s mouth curled back with distaste. ‘Do you have to boast about your conquests?’

  ‘I’m not boasting, Hazel, merely recommending. I didn’t know if you might want him when I’ve finished with him.’

  Hazel shuddered. ‘Go away, Celia. You disgust me!’

  ‘And your prudishness sickens me. Don’t try and kid me you never have those sort of needs, because I know better.’

  So did Hazel, after last night. ‘If I do I don’t feel the need to talk about them as you do.’

  Celia walked to the door, throwing her apple core in the bin. ‘That’s what I thought, you’re a prude.’

  Hazel ignored her, continuing to type to shut out the other woman’s mocking laughter as she left. She stopped typing as soon as the door closed, back-spacing to correct the mistakes she had just made in her anger.

  God, she thought, how Celia annoyed! She was such a bitch. She was so complacent about the fact that she had slept with a man she had only known a few hours. And she obviously didn’t really care a damn about Carl, poor man.

  It was so unlike what she felt for Rafe that she couldn’t relate to it. She had given herself only once in her life, to the one man she had ever cared about, the man she loved. Yes, she loved Rafe, loved him and knew he would never be hers.

  Rafe had made that very clear when they had met the day after they had made love, stating that it had all been a mistake and she must put it down to the fact that they had both been drinking. It had shocked her to think that he considered it had happened while she was in a drunken stupor. It hadn’t happened for that reason at all, but because she loved him, had always loved him.

  ‘What are you thinking about?’

  Her head swung round at the sound of Rafe’s voice. He had a habit of catching her unawares with her defences down. She shook her head. ‘Nothing in particular,’ she lied.

  ‘I see.’ He walked over to the desk. ‘So your thoughts had nothing to do with what Celia told you?’

  ‘What Celia told me?’

  Rafe nodded. ‘She said you were very concerned for your young friend Carl, until she assured you he was all right. I wondered if the fight last night was troubling you.’ He sat on the side of the desk looking down at her.

  Hazel was conscious of the rise and fall of her breasts visible in the open neckline of her blouse. And she was breathing so hard too, his closeness unnerved her. But it certainly wasn’t the fight of last night that was troubling her, it was what had so nearly happened between them later on.

  She threw back her head, her breath catching in her throat as she looked straight into Rafe’s deep blue eyes. She looked quickly away again. ‘I wasn’t concerned about Carl, but I thought Celia should be.’

  ‘Really?’ He spoke as though he doubted her. ‘But she is. She’s just going to telephone him now.’

  Hazel didn’t bother to tell him that it wouldn’t even have occurred to his sister if she hadn’t put the idea into her head. ‘I see.’ She bit her lip.

  ‘You shouldn’t let her see your jealousy, Hazel. She—’

  ‘But I’m not jealous of her!’ she interrupted. ‘It doesn’t bother me that she’s going out with Carl.’

  He shrugged. ‘If you say so.’

  ‘I do,’ she said firmly.

  ‘Your light was on late last night,’ he went on. ‘Couldn’t you sleep?’

  ‘How do you know my light was on? You didn’t come and check up on me.’

  ‘No, I didn’t do that. But I knew you were back in the house.’

  ‘How did you know that?’

  ‘I was in the study when you returned. Your light was still on when I came up to bed about four,’ he explained.

  She looked up at him. ‘But your bedroom isn’t even near mine.’

  Rafe quirked a mocking eyebrow, his face devilish with the harshness of his expression. ‘Perhaps I came to your room to continue our little scene of earlier.’

  ‘But you didn’t.’

  He gave a harsh laugh. ‘Of course I didn’t. Because if I had come to your room last night that’s exactly what would have happened. But I don’t want a repeat of that, I want us to talk this thing out logically and then perhaps it won’t happen again.’

  ‘And perhaps it will,’ she put in quietly. ‘It was always there, this awareness between the two of us.’

  ‘But we have to admit that that’s all it is, just an awareness that results in pure lust. If it had been anything else you would have rushed back here a year ago, concerned for my health.’ He looked at her coldly now. ‘But you didn’t.’

  ‘Oh, but—’

  ‘And I wouldn’t have been able to let you go out of my life for three years if I’d been in love with you,’ he added cruelly. ‘I wouldn’t have been able to let you out of my sight.’

  Hazel bit her bottom lip, her hurt at being sent away still as raw as it had been three years ago. ‘But you did ask for me when you were ill. James told me.’

  ‘What does that prove? You’re part of my family, Hazel, and I was hallucinating. I was probably remembering you as a shy ten-year-old, not a wanton eighteen-year-old who didn’t want to get out of my bed.’

  ‘Rafe!’ Her pain showed in her cloudy brown eyes.

  ‘Why baulk at the truth? What we had that night was beautiful. Perhaps that was the trouble. If it had been sordid, as it should have been, we could dismiss it from our lives,’ he sighed. ‘It was too damned good to forget.’

  Hazel’s mouth
twisted. ‘I wouldn’t know, I have nothing to compare it with.’ But she could certainly feel resentment for the women in his life who had given him the experience that bound her to him almost as much as her love.

  ‘I find that very hard to believe,’ he scorned. ‘Yesterday you told me you could be pregnant by Josh.’

  ‘So, I lied.’

  He shook his head. ‘You had no reason to do that.’

  She had a very good one—she had wanted to hurt him, to get some sort of reaction out of him. It simply hadn’t been the reaction she had wanted. ‘Does it bother you that you started me on the road to permissiveness?’ she asked.

  His blue eyes were chillingly cold, almost glacial. ‘I didn’t do that, Hazel. You brought the situation upon yourself. A man can only resist so much, and I’d resisted enough where you were concerned. You were always flaunting yourself in front of me. Your behaviour that evening was the end as far as I was concerned, I’m afraid.’

  It had been the end for her too, the end of her ever being able to love anyone but him. No other man’s kisses or touch had ever brought her anywhere near wanting a physical relationship with them. No matter what Rafe chose to believe, she had never given herself to anyone else.

  She pretended an interest in the letter she was typing. ‘Don’t make such a big thing of it, Rafe. Every girl has to start somewhere. I should feel grateful that you were so experienced.’ She gave a shrill laugh. ‘Think how disastrous it would have been with someone as innocent as myself!’

  Rafe’s look was grim. ‘Stop acting like this, Hazel,’ he ordered.

  She looked up at him with hard eyes. ‘Then stop making a federal case out of something that happened three years ago! Let’s just be thankful that we had no lasting repercussions from the experience.’

  ‘Lasting reper—?’ He broke off, understanding dawning. ‘I made sure of that before I let you go to America.’

  ‘And if I had been pregnant? What then?’

  He moved off the desk. ‘Then I would have married you.’

  That was what she had thought, why she had hoped and prayed to be pregnant. But it was not to be, and Rafe had sent her away.