Devil in Paradise

by Joanna Mansell

  'He's my son!' Martin Foster said belligerently. 'I've every right to have him here with me.'

  'You're making him sound like a possession,' Kate said angrily. 'We're talking about a child! All right, so he's your son, but that doesn't give you the right to turn his life upside-down, and make him thoroughly miserable. Anyway, surely the most important thing is to have a child who loves you?'

  Martin Foster's gaze swivelled round to fix on her. 'Are you telling me that my son doesn't love me?' he said in a soft and yet extremely menacing voice.

  'Kate,' warned Rafe, with a light touch on her arm.

  But Kate couldn't think of anything except Harry right now. 'No, he doesn't love you,' she said boldly. 'He doesn't even know you! You dragged him away from his mother and brought him here, but have you spent any time with him? Have you talked to him, bothered to find out how he feels, what he wants?'

  'He's six years old,' Martin Foster replied tautly. 'When he's old enough to have opinions of his own, then I'll discuss things with him. A boy of six needs discipline, firm guidance and a good education.'

  'He also needs love and attention,' retorted Kate stubbornly. 'And the freedom to develop his own interests and ideas. Believe it or not, Harry already has fairly strong opinions on a lot of things—including his own future. He wants to be with his mother,' she finished bluntly.

  'You're not getting through to him, Kate,' Rafe said quietly. 'Men like Martin Foster only ever see things from their own point of view.'

  But it was desperately important to Kate that she did get through. Harry's whole future might depend on it.

  She turned back to Martin Foster. 'Don't you care that your son doesn't love you?' she said a little despairingly. 'That he's actually scared of you?'

  A flicker of response finally showed in Martin Foster's eyes. 'Nonsense!' he said sharply. 'My son couldn't possibly be scared of me. I've given him everything—'

  'You've snatched him away from his mother, and from his home,' Kate interrupted fiercely. 'You've shoved him into a strange house where he knows no one, and my guess is that you've virtually ignored him. Just having him here was enough for you, wasn't it? You didn't think you had to do any more. But you've got to give up a huge chunk of your time if you want to be a real father.'

  'I'm a very busy man,' came his short response. There wasn't quite so much certainty in his voice this time, though, and Kate drew in a deep breath.

  'You've still got to make time for the things that are important in your life. If you don't, you'll end up not only with a failed marriage, but with a son who's going to grow up resenting and disliking you. Is that what you want?' she challenged him directly.

  For just a moment, Martin Foster looked uncertain again. Then the hardness spread back over his face, and his eyes shone coldly. 'I won't have two strangers coming here and telling me how to run my life,' he said tautly. 'Do you hear me? I won't have it!'

  But Kate wouldn't be browbeaten. 'Well, someone's got to tell you. And someone's got to try and stop you ruining Harry's life. Why won't you understand? Your son is thoroughly miserable and unhappy. If you don't believe me, ask him for yourself!'

  Martin Foster stared at her with fierce anger. Then he walked over and opened the door. The bodyguard was standing just outside. 'Bring Harry down here,' Martin Foster instructed him. Then he walked slowly back into the drawing-room. 'I accept that Harry has had some difficulties in adapting to the sudden change of circumstances,' he said in a terse voice. 'But I do not accept any of your other accusations. And once you hear the truth from Harry yourself, perhaps you'll realise just how much damage you've done during these last few days.'

  He said nothing more until the door opened. Harry stood there uncertainly for a moment. Then he saw Rafe and Kate, and his face lit up.

  'Have you come to take me home?' he asked excitedly.

  'Harry!' Martin Foster walked over to stand in front of his son. 'This is your home now,' he told him sternly.

  Harry's face fell. 'It's not my real home,' he mumbled.

  'This is a beautiful house,' Martin Foster responded in a sharp tone. 'You should be grateful to live here.'

  Harry's mouth drooped at the corners. 'I don't like it here.'

  Kate went over and crouched down beside him. 'Why don't you like it?' she asked quietly.

  'There's no one to play with. I haven't got any friends. And I can't go to school. I don't go out, and we have boiled eggs for breakfast every morning, and never any custard. No one talks to me. I miss my dog, his name's Sam, and me and my mummy take him for walks. I want to go home, I don't want to stay here.' Harry finally ran out of breath. Then he looked up at Kate. 'Why doesn't my mummy come and get me?' he asked, his lip quivering.

  Kate blinked her own eyes rather hard. 'You'd better ask your father that question,' she said quietly.

  But Harry wouldn't even look at his father. Instead, he went over to Rafe and clung tightly on to his hand.

  Kate turned back to Martin Foster, and found that he was looking extremely shaken by Harry's outburst.

  'Are you going to answer Harry's question?' she asked quietly.

  'I didn't know the boy felt like that,' he muttered. Then his features became fierce again. 'Someone should have told me!'

  Rafe took a step forward, still holding firmly on to Harry. 'It isn't up to your staff to find out these things. Harry is your son. You're the one who should know what's going on in his life.'

  Martin Foster paced up and down a couple of times. Then he turned and shot a dark look at Rafe. 'I still think the boy should stay with me. I'm his father. I've a right to have him.'

  Kate shook her head. 'Instead of talking about rights, why don't you try and work out where Harry would be happiest? Surely that's the only important thing?'

  'But according to you that's with his mother,' Martin Foster retorted.

  'That's right,' agreed Rafe. 'But Jillie's a very reasonable person. I'm sure she'd be willing to let you see Harry whenever you wanted. She won't try and keep Harry away from you, just to be spiteful and vindictive.'

  Martin Foster was only half listening, though. He was also looking at Harry, who was steadfastly refusing to look back at him. He couldn't seem to believe that he couldn't bend this small boy to his will, the way he did with so many of the adults who worked for him.

  'Is that really what you want, Harry?' he said at last, with heavy reluctance. 'To go back to your mother, and stay with her?'

  Harry immediately brightened up. 'Yes,' he said in a very definite voice.

  At that, his father's face changed quite dramatically. It was as if he was finally facing up to something that he had quite deliberately ignored for a very long time.

  A tense silence descended on the room, until Kate couldn't stand it any more. 'What are you going to do?' she asked in a low voice. 'Are you going to let us take him home?'

  Martin Foster half turned away from them. 'Do I have any choice?' he said at last, obviously finding it an enormous effort to force the words out.

  Harry looked up at Kate uncertainly. 'Am I going back to my mummy?' he asked in a loud whisper.

  Kate gave him a big grin. 'Yes, I think you are.'

  Harry let out an exuberant whoop of joy, and Martin Foster turned back to stare at him, as if he was really looking at his son properly for the first time.

  'Aren't you going to thank me, Harry?'

  Harry lowered his eyes. 'Thank you,' he mumbled, scuffling his feet uncomfortably.

  Martin Foster looked at Rafe with an uncharacteristic uncertainty in his eyes. 'Will it ever get any better between us?' he muttered, his features dark.

  'Yes, of course,' Rafe replied firmly. 'But you're going to have to give it time, and you're going to have to work at it.'

  Harry's father slowly nodded. 'I suppose you're right. Now, you'd better get him out of here,' he added slightly harshly, 'before I change my mind.'

  Rafe held on to Harry's hand, slid an arm around Kate's shoulder, and shep
herded the two of them out of the room.

  In a couple of days, Jillie came to collect Harry and take him back home. She looked pale, but absolutely overjoyed to be reunited with her son.

  Jillie was every bit as beautiful as Kate had thought she would be, and she felt a strong pang of pure jealousy when she first saw Jillie and Rafe together. Then she slowly started to relax again as it became clear that there was nothing between them except an easy friendship. In fact, once Jillie had finished profusely thanking the two of them for getting Harry back for her, she only had eyes for her son.

  Jillie and Harry stayed at the villa overnight. In the morning, Rafe would drive them to the airport, so they could catch an early flight back to England.

  Kate found it a real wrench when it was finally time to say goodbye to Harry. She had grown very fond of him, and was looking forward to taking up Jillie's invitation to come and visit them as soon as she got the chance.

  She stood at the door, waving, until the car was finally out of sight. Then she trailed slowly back into the villa.

  It seemed very quiet and empty. Kate wandered around, feeling slightly on edge. These were the first moments she had had to herself for ages, but she wasn't sure that she was enjoying it very much. It gave her too much opportunity to think about everything that had happened—and about Rafe.

  Just the sound of his name, when she said it out loud, made her nerves jump. So much had altered between them, and yet she still didn't really know where she stood. They had been so caught up in Harry's problems that there hadn't been much time to talk about their own.

  She was almost glad when she heard the phone ring. She was beginning to find the silence rather oppressive. When she picked up the receiver, though, she gave a small grimace when she heard her mother's voice at the other end.

  She had phoned her father last night, and given him a potted—and very expurgated!—version of what had happened. He had taken it all quite calmly, and Kate had been glad of that, but she had known that news of what had been going on would eventually trickle down to her mother. And she definitely couldn't be relied on to take it so calmly.

  'Kate, I can't believe what your father's been telling me,' announced her mother, launching straight into the attack. 'You should have come straight home as soon as you found out that man was staying at Great-Uncle Henry's villa. Some men are born to cause trouble, and Rafe Clarendon is one of them!'

  'You really don't know him well enough to make a sweeping judgement like that,' Kate protested.

  'I've heard about him. And some of the stories would make your hair curl,' said her mother darkly.

  'My hair already curls,' retorted Kate. 'And I don't think people should listen to that kind of gossip. Most of it's either made up or highly exaggerated.'

  'Are you defending that man? After all the trouble he got you into?'

  'I was the one who insisted on staying. He tried really hard to get rid of me, but I wouldn't go. None of what happened was his fault, and, anyway, it all turned out very well in the end.'

  'There you go, defending him again!' said her mother in exasperation. 'What is it about men like that? They always find women willing to make excuses for their behaviour.' Then her voice suddenly took on a suspicious note. 'Or is there something you haven't told me, Kate?' she demanded. 'What has that man been up to?'

  'Nothing,' Kate answered, just a little too quickly. 'At least, nothing that I haven't wanted him to get up to,' she amended wryly. 'And why do you keep calling him "that man"? He does have a name!' Before her mother could get in another word, she added, 'I've got to go now. I'll ring you later,' and she very firmly put down the receiver.

  Ruffled by the conversation, Kate stalked out on to the terrace and flopped on to a sun-lounger. She knew that she would have to ring her mother later and apologise, but she wasn't looking forward to it. Sooner or later, her mother would bring the conversation back to the subject of Rafe Clarendon, and Kate didn't want to talk about him just now. Things were still too unsettled between them, and she had no idea how all of this was eventually going to turn out.

  As if the mention of his name had magically conjured him up, Rafe appeared on the terrace. Kate swallowed hard as she saw him, and sat up as he walked towards her.

  'Did they catch their plane all right?' she asked as he seated himself beside her.

  'No problem,' he assured her. 'Why didn't you come to the airport with us?'

  'I hate saying goodbye,' she admitted. 'I'd have probably started blubbering, and then we'd have all ended up in tears.'

  'Well, Harry sent his love, and he's looking forward to you going to visit them.'

  'Do you really think they'll be able to sort things out?' she asked a little anxiously. 'Martin Foster won't suddenly have a change of heart, and try to grab Harry back again?'

  Rafe shook his head. 'I don't think so. He got a severe shock that day, hearing his own son telling him he didn't want to stay with him. That kind of thing stays with you for a very long time, and can really change your life. And talking of changes,' he went on, his tone altering quite noticeably, 'I thought I'd better tell you that I'm going back to England myself in a couple of days.'

  'Going—' Kate gulped, and made another stab at it. 'Going back?'

  'This was never a holiday for me,' he reminded her. 'Only a job of work. And I've got more work lined up for the rest of the summer. Much as I'd like to, I can't stay here sunning myself for the next few weeks.'

  'Oh,' she said, rather inadequately.

  'What about your own plans?' he asked casually. 'You told me you wanted to try and write a novel. Is that still on the cards?'

  'I'm definitely going to have a go.'

  'The villa would be an ideal place for writing,' Rafe pointed out. 'It's very tranquil and quiet.'

  'It is when you're not around,' Kate said drily. Then she looked at him uncertainly. 'Are you telling me that you want me to stay here, while you go back to England?'

  His dark gaze rested on her. 'No, I'm not saying that at all. I'm just giving you the chance to run away from me again—if you still want to.'

  'Oh,' she said again, slightly flummoxed. 'Then— er—what's the alternative?'

  'You could come back to England with me,' he said comfortably.

  'Back to England—?' She blinked at him, and tried to work out exactly what he was saying. 'You mean, I'd live with my parents and we'd sort of carry on getting to know each other?' she said slowly.

  'No, that wasn't what I meant at all. I meant you could move in with me.'

  'Move in with you?' she squeaked.

  Rafe looked at her with a touch of exasperation. 'Kate, are you going to repeat absolutely everything I say?'

  'Probably,' she said apologetically. 'I can't seem to think for myself right now.'

  He raised one eyebrow. 'Then just sit and listen for a couple of minutes. For a start, I don't know how you'd feel about that sort of arrangement. I keep pretty irregular hours. You'd have to get used to me coming and going at all hours of the day and night. And occasionally I bring home some rather odd characters. Then there are the times I work abroad—I'd want to take you with me. How would that fit in with your plans for the future?'

  'I don't really have any plans at the moment,' she admitted. 'Except for having a go at the novel, and I suppose I can do that practically anywhere. All I need is a portable typewriter and a stack of paper.'

  Rafe looked at her thoughtfully. 'Then you're not totally against the idea?'

  'I think I could probably get used to it,' she said, a grin beginning to spread across her face.

  He seemed rather pleased. 'I didn't think it would be this easy to persuade you. I was afraid you might try to skip out of reach again.'

  'Not any more.' Her grin broadened. 'You'd better get used to the idea. You've only got to crook your little finger and I'll come running,' she told him frankly, cheerfully chucking her pride right out of the window. 'When do you want me to move in with you?'

 
'Just as soon as we're married,' Rafe replied calmly.

  Kate's eyes nearly popped out of her head. 'Married?' she finally managed to get out in a strangled voice.

  'Why are you looking so totally astounded?' enquired Rafe with some amusement. 'Hasn't the idea ever occurred to you?'

  'Well—sort of,' she admitted. 'Especially since we—' She broke off and gave a rather nervous cough.

  'Since we…?' prompted Rafe gently.

  Kate scowled at him. 'You know perfectly well what I'm talking about!'

  'Since we found out how very compatible we are?' he suggested with a sly smile.

  Kate blushed bright red, and was furious with herself for getting into this totally confused state. 'I just didn't think the idea of marriage had ever occurred to you,' she muttered.

  'It took me a couple of days to get round to the idea. But since I love you and want to live with you, it seemed like the obvious conclusion.'

  And that threw Kate into a fresh welter of confusion. 'You—you love me?'

  Rafe looked faintly surprised. 'I thought you knew that.'

  'I don't know anything,' she retorted. 'You didn't say—you didn't tell me—I didn't know quite what to think,' she finished in a rather shaky voice.

  His gaze settled on her reflectively. 'I thought certain things were understood between us.'

  'Well, they were—but at the same time, they weren't,' she said, beginning to confuse him now, as well as herself.

  Rafe gave a brief sigh. 'I'm not sure I can take much more of this. Perhaps I should just kiss you and try to convince you that way.'

  'I'm not sure that's a very good idea—' she began, but he ignored her, took her into his arms, and in just seconds had reduced her to a state of complete acquiescence. He shifted closer, and his hands began to reacquaint themselves with the familiar swell of her breasts. Kate gave a faint groan, and Rafe grinned with satisfaction. Then his tongue traced the path that his fingers had taken, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake, and Kate felt as if she were melting away.

  He lifted his head and took another kiss from her, this one far deeper and more demanding than the last. Then he seemed to realise that things were running away from them, because he released her again rather quickly, and then pushed her away from him.