by Anne Mather
‘Rachel, the way I feel right now, I could handle anything, any situation I You give me strength—and confidence. You make me feel like a man again.’
‘But that’s good, isn’t it?’ she protested.
Jake inclined his head. ‘Yes, it’s good. Initially. But in the long term, it’s—bad!’
‘Why?’
Her eyes were wide and innocent, and he cursed himself for letting things get so out of hand. ‘Rachel, you’re eighteen! All right, I’ll admit—I want you. I want to make love to you. I want to sleep with you. I want to wake up mornings and find your head beside mine on the pillow—but it won’t do!’
She moved her head confusedly from side to side. ‘Why won’t it?’
With a stifled oath he released her, turning away to rake his fingers through his hair. ‘Rachel, you know nothing about me, about my past, about my way of life.’
‘I don’t care about your past,’ she exclaimed, shaking her head. This is what matters—here—and now!’
He swung round on her then, staring at her narrowly. ‘Is that what you think? Is that what you really think? Are you so experienced in these matters that a night spent with me would mean nothing to you?’
Rachel’s cheeks flamed. ‘No! No, that’s not what I mean, and you know it.’
‘Then what are you saying?’
Rachel took a deep breath. ‘I—I love you, Jake.’
His face changed, anger contorting his lean features. ‘You don’t love me, Rachel!’ he told her ruthlessly. ‘You only think you do. If you were honest, you’d admit you feel sorry for me. You see yourself as some kind of lady of charity, dispensing favours to the afflicted!’
‘That’s not true!’
‘What is the truth, then?’ he demanded. ‘You want me to take what you’re offering? Because, believe me, that’s what it sounds like to me!’
‘Oh, Jake!’ Her eyes filled with tears, and rather than let him see her cry, she stumbled to the window, staring out blindly on to the deserted car park. ‘I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I can’t stand it when you’re angry with me!’
‘Angry with you! My God!’ Jake strode across to her, and jerked her savagely into his arms, pressing her back against him, his face buried in the warm hollow of her neck. ‘Rachel, I’m a man of forty-one, who has been married and divorced. Until recently, I ran a massive business concern, a chain of hotels, of which this is one of them. I had a breakdown, like I told you, but soon, God help me, I’ve got to go back to that kind of life.’
‘I don’t care,’ she protested, turning her head to rest her cheek against his chest. ‘The kind of life you’ve led. The—the women you’ve known. Unless …’ Her voice faltered. ‘Is—is there someone else?’
‘No!’ His voice thickened. ‘But I’m not a boy, Rachel. I can’t act like one. Holding you in my arms like this, kissing you—it’s not enough. And I’m not fool enough to imagine that anything else would work!’
‘Anything else?’ She twisted round in his arms to stare at him. ‘What do you mean?’
Jake looked down at her passionately, and she was woman enough to realise how narrow was the line between his control and the lack of it. ‘We’ve known each other such a short time——’
‘Time has nothing to do with it!’ she cried, and he nodded.
‘I accept that there is—something—between us,’ he agreed, taking a deep breath. ‘But how long do you think it would last, exposed to the kind of pressures we would have to cope with?’
Rachel’s lips parted. ‘Why don’t we try it and see?’
‘I can’t do that!’ he muttered violently.
‘Why not?’ She put up her hand to his cheek. ‘Oh, Jake, I’ll do anything you want me to do.’
‘No!’
Again he let her go, moving away from her, running his hand round the back of his neck. Rachel watched him despairingly, not knowing what to say, how to appeal to him; only knowing that she loved him more than she had ever loved anyone in her whole life.
At last he turned and faced her, and she stiffened nervously at the serious look on his face. ‘All right,’ he said evenly, ‘I’ll lay it out for you, shall I?’ He thrust his hands deep into the pockets of his velvet jacket. ‘As I see it, it’s like this; we could live together for a while—only I won’t do that to you.’ His lips twisted. ‘Don’t look like that, Rachel. You should be grateful——’
‘Grateful!’ she exclaimed bitterly. ‘When you know how I feel …’
‘Sure, sure.’ He nodded heavily. ‘Okay. There are other alternatives.’
‘What?’
She was suspicious, and he gave a half smile. ‘I’ll be leaving here soon, but we could see each other again. Say, in six months from now——’
‘Six months!’
Her cheeks lost their colour, and his teeth clenched impatiently. ‘Rachel, it’s the most sensible thing to do. We both need some time to get things into perspective.’
‘Don’t you mean out of it?’ she demanded painfully. ‘You know if you leave here, I’ll never see you again!’
‘That’s not necessarily true,’ he declared quietly. Then: ‘There is one other way.’
‘Why don’t you suggest paying my way through college?’ she cried chokingly. ‘As you seem determined to treat me as a schoolgirl!’
‘Is that what you want?’ he asked grimly.
‘No!’ She stared at him tearfully. ‘You know what I want.’ She spread her hands. ‘I want you …’
He took an involuntarily step towards her, and then stopped abruptly. ‘Very well.’ His direct gaze was penetrating. ‘We could—get married.’ But when she would have rushed to him, he held her off with a warning hand. ‘Wait,’ he said. ‘I mean—on a trial basis.’
Rachel looked uncertain. ‘A—trial basis?’
‘Yes.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘Look—as I’ve just told you, I’ll be leaving here within the next couple of weeks. I’m spending Christmas with my parents, and in the New Year I’m expected to take up where I left off. There’s no way I can take you with me unless we—well, make it legal. But that doesn’t mean I think either of us is ready for marriage.’
‘But Jake——’
‘That’s the deal. Take it or leave it.’
‘Jake!’ She linked her fingers together tightly. ‘Jake, are you saying that—that——’
‘I’m saying we get to know one another, Rachel. Really get to know one another, I mean. Then, if it doesn’t work out, I can get the thing annulled without you being involved, one way or the other.’
Rachel shook her head disbelievingly. ‘But I know how I feel …’
‘You think you do.’ He sighed. ‘Remember, I’ve been married before. I know the pitfalls. I just don’t want you to get hurt, that’s all.’
‘But—your parents?’
‘What about my parents?’
‘What will they think?’
‘They need never know. They’ll be happy enough thinking that I’ve found someone else I care about. They never liked Denise.’
‘Denise?’ Rachel felt a ripple of apprehension slide along her spine. ‘Was that—your wife’s name?’
‘Yes.’
Rachel bent her head. ‘Did you—did she—why did you split up?’
Jake gave her a wry look. ‘You might say it was a mutual agreement.’ He paused. ‘As it happens, Denise wanted to marry someone else. An Italian prince, actually, a good deal older than she was.’ His lips curled, and she guessed what he was thinking ‘Much like yourself,’ he added ironically. ‘Except that I’m no prince!’
‘Jake!’ Rachel refused to let him hold her off any longer, and she pushed aside his reluctant guard, reaching up to press her lips to his ‘Oh, Jake. I’ll marry you On whatever terms you say you know that. But do you honestly think you’ll be able to keep me away from you?’
His breathing quickened as her hands found the buttons of his shirt tugging the expensive material aside to stroke t
he hair-roughened skin of his chest. There was an intense delight in being this intimate with him, and Jake was not immune to the probing caress of her fingers. He pulled her to him not kissing her, just holding her closely, and her limbs melted against the hard strength of his body.
‘Rachel!’ With a groan, he put her away from him, cupping her face between his hands and looking down at her half impatiently. ‘This has got to stop,’ he insisted gently ‘And I must go. If we’ve got to face your formidable employer tomorrow, I think we should do it with a clear conscience don’t you?’
‘You really mean it,’ she breathed.
‘Don’t you?’ For a moment his eyes clouded, but she quickly reassured him:
‘Of course I do!’ She bit her lower lip nervously. ‘I—you won’t let Della—I mean, if she gets angry, you won’t—nothing will change your mind, will it?’
Jake ran a long finger over her parted lips. ‘Only you can change my mind.’ he told her softly, and she quivered when she considered the commitment she was making She loved him, she didn’t doubt that for a moment. But for a moment she wondered if that was enough …
Jake turned away and found the handle of her door. ‘We’ll have breakfast together,’ he said. ‘Can you manage that?’
‘I—well, I usually have breakfast with Della …’
‘All right.’ He was unperturbed. ‘I’ll join you. How’s that?’
Rachel shrugged her slim shoulders. ‘I—I can hardly believe it!’
Jake opened the door. ‘Do you want to believe it?’
‘Oh, you know I do,’ she breathed.
His eyes darkened, dropping for a disturbing moment down the slender length of her body. Then he gave a determined shake of his head, and stepped out into the corridor. Rachel hurried to the door to watch him walk along to the lift, and then stepped back, aghast, as the lift doors opened and Mrs Faulkner-Stewart emerged.
Rachel didn’t wait to see what happened. She silently closed her door and leant back against the wall beside it, her hands pressed to her mouth as if to suppress the gasp of dismay that threatened to betray her. She was still standing there when, without warning, the door was propelled open, and Della appeared, trembling with fury.
‘You little bitch!’ she declared viciously, and slapped Rachel smartly across the face.
Rachel fell back into her room, staring at the older woman as if she had never seen her before, her hand pressed to her burning cheek. ‘I—Della——’
Words would not come, and Della advanced further into the room, slamming the door behind her with a complete disregard for other occupants of the floor who might be sleeping.
‘You sly little cow!’ she continued furiously. ‘Pretending you were going out with Carl Yates when all the time you’d planned to meet that Allan man up here!’
‘That’s not true——’
But Della was too incensed to listen to explanations. ‘Well, you can pack your bags. You’re leaving!’ she announced grimly. ‘I refuse to keep you any longer! You’re a selfish, ungrateful girl; you’ve deceived me, Rachel, and I’d never feel I could trust you again!’
‘You don’t understand,’ protested Rachel desperately. ‘I—Jake—we—we’re going to get married!’
‘What!’
To say Della looked shocked would have been a vast understatement. Her face convulsed with colour and for an awful moment Rachel thought she was going to have a seizure. But then she went deathly pale, and sank down weakly on to the side of the bed, groping blindly for a tissue. Rachel watched her anxiously, twisting her hands together, and then sinking down on to her knees beside her, looking up into her distraught features.
‘Are—are you all right?’
Della stared at her incredulously. ‘Did I hear you correctly? You’re going to—marry Allan?’
Rachel nodded her head. ‘Yes.’
‘But how—when? You don’t know him!’
‘I know him well enough,’ said Rachel firmly. ‘He—he asked me this evening.’
Della shook her head helplessly. ‘But how could he? He was playing bridge until about—I don’t know—an hour—an hour and a half ago!’
Rachel sought for words, the pain of her cheek a stinging reminder of Della’s uncertain temper. ‘We—we’ve known each other for about two weeks,’ she ventured slowly. ‘I—from the beginning, we were—attracted to one another.’
‘But it’s ridiculous!’ Della was recovering rapidly; Rachel’s passivity infuriated her. ‘The man’s at least twenty-five years older than you are!’
‘Twenty-two, actually,’ replied Rachel quietly.
‘There you are, then! Twenty-two years, Rachel! He’s more than old enough to be your father!’
‘Age doesn’t matter,’ insisted Rachel, getting to her feet again. ‘We love each other.’
But as she said the words, she wondered if that was strictly true. She had said she loved Jake, but he had only admitted that he wanted her! But he must love her, she told herself fiercely. You didn’t marry someone unless you loved them.
Seeing the momentary uncertainty in the girl’s face, Della too stood up. ‘Love!’ she said contemptuously. ‘What is love but a satiation of the senses? How long do you think that will last once he’s grown tired of your immature body?’
Rachel stiffened. ‘I don’t need your advice, Della. I’m old enough to make my own decisions.’
‘Are you? Are you really?’ Della sneered. ‘My God, you’re a fool, Rachel, do you know that? Throwing yourself away on a man who’s already lived one life to the full!’
‘I know he’s been married before, if that’s what you mean,’ declared Rachel coldly, but Della was unimpressed.
‘He’s washed up, Rachel. He had a breakdown, and you know what that means to a man of his age. Who’ll employ him now?’
‘Employ him?’ Rachel almost laughed with relief. ‘He doesn’t need anyone to employ him, Della. He employs people. Why, he even owns this hotel!’
Della’s eyes narrowed. ‘He owns this hotel?’ she echoed disbelievingly. ‘But——’ She broke off abruptly, licking her lips. Then when she spoke again, her voice was unnaturally hushed: ‘Rachel, you know who owns this hotel, don’t you?’
‘Yes, I’ve just told you. Jake does …’
‘But you don’t know who Jake is, do you?’ Della sighed. ‘Of course, the “Allan” threw me. That must be a family name or something. Rachel, these hotels are owned by the Courtenay group. The man you’re planning to marry is not Jake Allan—but Jake Courtenay!’
‘Well …’ Rachel shrugged her shoulders, not altogether happy that Jake hadn’t told her himself, but confident enough to realise that such a minor discrepancy was hardly important ‘What of it?’
Della spread her hands. ‘My dear child, you can’t marry Jake Courtenay!’
‘Why not?’
‘Why not?’ Della shook her head. ‘Good heavens, I couldn’t let you do it.’
‘You can’t stop me.’
‘Rachel, be sensible! The man’s a multi-millionaire! He’ll eat you alive! Can you imagine yourself in his circle? Can you see yourself handling the kind of society he mixes in? My God, if it wasn’t so tragic, I’d find it amusing!’
Rachel’s face felt stiff and set. ‘I don’t care what you say, Della. I am going to marry him.’
‘But you’re too young, Rachel …’
‘I’m growing older every minute.’
‘So is he!’ declared Della coldly, impatience returning. ‘For heaven’s sake, Rachel, think! It may seem a good idea now, but what happens in twenty years’ time when you’re my age and he’s sixty!’
‘I hope he’ll still love me,’ stated Rachel steadily, and Della uttered an ugly imprecation.
‘You’re a fool!’ she exclaimed angrily. ‘What do you really know about him, after all? A few clandestine meetings can’t have told you a lot, except that he appears to prefer to keep you out of the limelight.’
‘That’s not true!
’ cried Rachel again, refusing to let her spoil what had been such a marvellous ending to her evening. ‘We—we’re having breakfast together tomorrow. He—he was going to speak to you then.’
‘Really?’ Della’s lips curled. ‘I suppose he told you he was going to ask my permission.’
‘We don’t need your permission,’ repeated Rachel determinedly. ‘Della, can’t you at least say one thing in favour?’
‘No.’ Della was abrupt. ‘I’ve told you what I think. God knows why he wants you, but he apparently does. You’re attractive enough, I suppose, although he must meet dozens of women with more sex appeal than you have. You’re young, of course. And hopelessly naïve. I suppose he thinks you’ll be easy enough to get rid of when the time comes.’
‘Please go, Della.’
Rachel had had enough. It was one thing to defend their discrepancies in age, and quite another to discuss the intimate side of their relationship. That was too private—too new—to bear exposure to Della’s particular brand of malice.
‘You’ll regret this,’ remarked Della, but she was moving towards the door as she spoke. Perhaps she realised she had gone far enough, and Rachel’s white face bespoke the uncertainty she denied. Whatever, after a pitying stare, the other woman left her, and Rachel wrapped her arms about herself tremblingly, aware that in some way Della had succeeded in pricking her bubble of happiness.
CHAPTER FIVE
JAKE’S car was a Lamborghini. After Della’s revelations Rachel was hardly surprised, but its sleek green lines only served to emphasise the differences between them. Strapped into the safety harness, she viewed the passing countryside with a certain amount of trepidation, that owed nothing to the expert way Jake was handling the powerful machine.
But the day had not started well, and she could not pretend it had. She had slept very badly after the confrontation with Della, and awakened feeling totally incapable of facing the day ahead. Minstrel had still needed his walk, however, and until she actually left Della’s employ, she felt obliged to exercise him.
Back at the hotel, Della had been waiting for her, and they went down to breakfast together, an almost unique experience. Rachel half wished she could have avoided this, but short of remaining in her room like the coward she felt herself to be, she was forced to go through with it. And after all, it was what she wanted, wasn’t it? Only Della had planted the seeds of uncertainty inside her, and she had no one else to turn to for reassurance.