That Special Touch

by Anne Beaumont

  Rafe wasn't exactly a changed man—she still caught him looking at her with that coldly assessing expression sometimes—but he was always reasonable, and he had certainly made things as easy for her as he could. He'd given her the keys to the car he'd hired for Janet Tilson for the season, and the key to the drawer in his study where he kept a sum of money for the daily expenses of looking after Penny.

  Apart from breakfast, the only other occasion Elisa could be sure of spending some time with him was in the evening before Penny went to bed. Afterwards, he disappeared into his study and stayed there. She wondered wistfully whether this was his way of keeping his promise to 'stay out of her hair', or whether he frankly preferred his own company to hers.

  Either way, she was about to change the household routine. After four days of following Janet Tilson's system, she felt confident enough to impose her own, for the change in Penny had been remarkable.

  Elisa hadn't had to winkle her out of her shell, Penny had all but fallen out of it. They'd become, as Elisa laughingly put it, beach bums. They motored around the island from resort to resort, swimming, building sandcastles, playing ball, taking out pedalos or joining boat excursions.

  Heavy inroads had been made on the money in the 'daily expenses' drawer, far more than Janet ever made, Elisa suspected. She left a careful account of how the money was spent and Rafe never quibbled. He just kept the amount topped up. In that respect, Elisa often thought wryly, he'd be a nice sort of husband to have.

  Initially she'd spent a fair bit on clothes for Penny. An inspection of her wardrobe had revealed too many prissy frocks and shiny shoes, and hardly any play clothes or sandals. A shopping expedition had righted the balance, and now Penny, to her delight, was dressed like a mini Elisa, in jeans and loose sweaters when the weather was capricious, and shorts and brief tops when the sun shone.

  Knowing how Penny never asked for anything, Elisa asked if there was anything else she'd like. 'A hat like yours,' Penny had replied with a promptness that was a good sign.

  They bought one, but Penny said, 'It's too smart. It's not like yours.'

  'I can soon fix that.' Elisa unpicked the rim, frayed the straw, and sat on it. 'This is called instant ageing. Mine took months to get so battered.' She felt a pang as she remembered the day Rafe fished her hat out of the sea... the day she'd learned it really was possible to love and hate a man at one and the same time.

  When Penny got her hat back, she was pleased but apprehensive. 'Gosh, won't Daddy be cross?'

  'He'll probably want one like it,' Elisa replied, sorry to see her slipping back into anxiety. 'You'll have to show him how it's done.'

  Penny giggled. Delighted, Elisa giggled with her, and Penny sat on the hat herself. Her anxiety surfaced again when they were driving home, and she said, 'I thought Daddies didn't like things being spoilt.'

  'Are you still bothered about the hat? Don't be. Nobody likes people who spoil things to be spiteful. We were just—er—re-styling the hat the way you want it. There's a big difference.'

  'Oh.' Penny sounded dubious, but she really loved her hat. She wore it all the time, even if it was raining, with one notable exception. When Rafe was around she hid it. '

  It wasn't until the fourth day that Elisa noticed her odd behaviour, and after Penny had gone to bed that evening she tackled Rafe about it. He always gave her the chance to talk privately before disappearing into his office by asking, 'Any problems?'

  For the first time Elisa replied, 'Yes, if you can spare a few minutes.' The May evenings were chill up here in the hills. He didn't seem to notice it, but she was kneeling on a fur rug in the sitting-room lighting a fire. She was wearing the floppy black sweater that did such sterling service, and the best of her two pairs of jeans.

  Her hair was braided into its usual plait and she sat back on her heels watching the fire, waiting for the moment she could add more coal without the burning wood collapsing into a smoking dying heap. She was pleased to have something to do, fearing their fragile relationship would break down now they were alone.

  'What's happened?' he asked, surprising her by coming to sit in one of the fireside armchairs. She'd expected him to choose the settee, a safe distance away. His long legs were nearly touching her, and he was leaning forward with his arms on his knees, bringing their faces too close for comfort.

  She began to feel panicky, and fiddled with the fire to hide her awareness of him. 'There are some things I need to know. Have you ever ticked off Penny for deliberately or accidentally damaging something?'

  'No. She never wrecks anything the way normal children do. I wish she would. It's unnatural how careful she is.'

  Elisa put some more coal on the fire, stripped off her rubber gloves and sat back on her heels. 'Why does she think she has to be so painfully polite and well behaved with you?'

  'Because that's the proper way to treat a stranger. I told you, she won't let me get close. I don't think she wants a father. Not me, anyway.'

  'It's not that. I'm the real stranger, but she's natural enough with me,' Elisa replied. 'Have you ever been so angry with her you've lost your temper and frightened her?'

  'No.'

  He sounded too positive to doubt, and yet she had to. She turned her face to his. It was close to sunset and the room was darkening rapidly. The fire had taken strong enough hold to cast a glow across his handsome face. In that moment, he didn't seem an unwanted substitute for Austyn. He seemed the only man in the world for her and she wanted him very much.

  She said huskily, 'Are you sure? You have a hasty temper. Perhaps you don't realise how frightening you can be. You've given me a few uneasy moments.'

  Rafe flung himself back in the armchair and his fingers began their familiar drumming on its arms. 'You think because I've been rough on you I've also been rough on Penny? You're wrong. I know how anxious she is, how easily intimidated. I've always treated her with kid gloves.'

  Whereas you think I'm as tough as an old boot, Elisa thought wistfully. She said, 'Well, she's either terrified of you—or so anxious to impress you that it's stifling all her natural reactions and affection. I'm not sure which yet. She has no reason to fear me—I'm her own choice; nor does she need to impress me, because she knows I'm not staying long. With those pressures off her, Penny is normal, affectionate, and fun. Only when you come into the picture does she regress.'

  She told him of the much-loved straw hat, and how Penny hid it from him. He was baffled, and even more so when she continued, 'Penny panics if she spills tea or something on her clothes, and if she splits a seam it's the end of the world!'

  'Sheena was always immaculate,' Rafe told her. 'Clothes were as important to her as men. She wouldn't let a grubby child anywhere near her. It was one of the things we quarrelled about. I suppose Penny is trying to be immaculate as well.'

  'You said Sheena was hardly ever home,' Elisa reminded him, 'and why hasn't Janet done anything about it? Has she ever discussed it with you?'

  'No. What are you getting at?'

  Elisa sighed. 'I don't know. I wish I did.'

  'Whatever Janet has or hasn't said, it was for Penny's sake. They're very close. Penny depends on her.'

  'Penny's your daughter. Janet should be encouraging her to depend on you. It's curious, after losing her mother, that Penny shows no signs of missing Janet. It makes me wonder if they're really as close as you imagine.' Elisa picked up the poker and played with the fire, trying to think of the best way to phrase what she wanted to say next. Eventually she asked, 'Do you think it's possible Janet is the one who depends on Penny?'

  'Why should she do that?'

  Elisa put the poker down and turned to him. 'She might want to make herself indispensable by keeping Penny dependent on her, either to secure her job or because, well, maybe she's in love with you. She's—what— in her thirties? You're an attractive man and you have a lot to offer.'

  'No,' he said positively, 'she knows her job's secure and there's never been anything personal between us.
She doesn't feel that way about me.'

  'A man is often the last to know,' Elisa told him hesitantly, thinking of her own suppressed feelings. 'It would also make it possible that she didn't fight against her illness out of loyalty to Penny, but because of fear of what you might find out when she was gone.'

  'If you mean Janet has been encouraging Penny's trauma for her own ends—my God, that's Machiavellian!'

  'I feel pretty Machiavellian even suggesting it,' Elisa admitted ruefully, 'especially as I might be barking up the wrong tree altogether. I'm only going on the things I know. If Penny rarely saw her mother, making Janet the mother substitute, then all her love and trust should be in Janet. There shouldn't be any trauma, certainly not a continuing one, because Janet has no need to teach Penny to fear you—but you said Penny's getting worse, not better. What do you make of it? I'm only certain that, with me, she is a happy laughing child and her anxiety only returns when you're around. So if you're not feeding that anxiety, who is?'

  Rafe snapped upright in his chair. 'I'll soon find out. I'll fly to England and force Janet to tell me what the hell is going on'.'

  'Hey!' Elisa was so anxious to calm him down, she put a hand on his knee without realising it. 'Janet's still in hospital. That's not the time for a showdown, and the best thing you can do is stick close to Penny. If Janet has some kind of hold over Penny, now's the time to break and take advantage of it. Spend as much time as you can with her, be affectionate, loving, let her know how much you care for her.'

  'Just how do you suggest I do that when she regards me as some kind of bogeyman?' he asked bitterly.

  'Somebody's taught her that attitude. Only you can teach her differently. You'll think of something.' Elisa suddenly realised her hand was on his knee. She was about to withdraw it when he covered it with his own. Her heart stopped, then began beating so erratically that she could scarcely breathe.

  'Penny's found a good friend in you. I'm grateful.' He leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek. It was the lightest, briefest of touches, and the marvel was it neither embarrassed nor stimulated her. The kiss had nothing to do with passion or provocation. It was more a gesture of understanding, his way of telling her that, after all the hiccups for their relationship, they were friends, too.

  It was yet another tentacle reaching out to bind her to him but, for the moment, she didn't mind that, either. She felt warm and safe and comfortable—companionable feelings she would never in her wildest dreams have associated with Rafe Sinclair.

  He must have been feeling the same way about her, because he didn't retreat into his study. He sat on with her in the room lit only by the intimate glow of the fire. Neither of them bothered to switch on a lamp or even thought of it. One hour slipped into another as they talked. He asked about her family and she told him her parents were teachers, her two younger sisters were both married with children, and the entire family lived in Berkshire or neighbouring Surrey.

  'We're almost neighbours,' Rafe said. 'I live at Virginia Water.'

  'Gosh, my youngest sister lives just up the road at Egham. I visit her a lot. I have a lot of friends there, too. Funny we should have to come all the way to Corfu to meet.' As soon as she said it, Elisa wished she hadn't. She'd made it seem as though their meeting was something special.

  'Yes, funny,' he agreed, but Elisa's awkwardness vanished when he told her his only close relative was his father, who had retired to a cottage in Sussex. 'He spends some of the winter here. He says he likes the island when it's "sleeping", as it was when he built this house.'

  'It's a pity you haven't got a large family like mine. What with sisters, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, cousins and heaven knows who else, Penny wouldn't have had time to become——' She broke off.

  'Neurotic,' he supplied. 'I can believe it. You sound a close family. How come you haven't married?'

  She was so lulled by the darkness, the quiet and the companionship, she almost told him the truth. She opened her mouth to do so, changed her mind and said fliply, 'Me? Oh, I haven't met the right millionaire yet. Well, tomorrow's Saturday and you're not working. Perhaps we'd better sort out what we're going to do over the weekend.'

  He noticed both her hesitancy and her sudden change of subject. 'So you have your secrets, too, Elisa. I wonder what they are?'

  She was doubly grateful for the darkness then, because it hid her painful rush of colour. To her relief, having put her on the hook, he took her off it by continuing, 'The weekend... what do you suggest?'

  Perhaps he thought this companionship they'd established was close enough, and there were some avenues it was wise not to explore. He was right, of course, and together they worked out a plan of activities for the weekend that was best from Penny's point of view.

  'Unless, of course, you want Sunday off?' asked Rafe, as an afterthought. 'You've been home every evening, and I had you down as somebody who likes the high life.'

  'I can take it or leave it.' Elisa sensed dissension creeping in, stemming from his preconceived notion of her, however much he talked of wrong impressions and fresh starts. She didn't need a brain like Einstein to work out that he thought she was flighty.

  'You must miss your friends.' He made it a statement not a question, and the plural was his idea of tact. He meant friend—Rich.

  Elisa wasn't going to rise to the bait, and two could play the plural game. 'Penny and I often stop off for an ice-cream or drink when we're to-ing or fro-ing from some other resort. We see them often.'

  'They must be surprised you're still around.'

  'They were,' Elisa corrected. 'The general consensus is that I've landed myself a jammy job. No slavery, and the chance to explore the island, all expenses paid.'

  'And what do you think?' Rafe asked.

  'I think you'd better come out with whatever's on your mind.'

  There was a pause, then he said, 'All right. I'd like to be certain you're not fooling around on the beach while Penny's left to her own devices.'

  Elisa was quietly, deeply angry. 'You mean with Rich. I've explained about him, and I refuse to go on justifying myself. You shouldn't have forced me here in the first place if you thought I was irresponsible. I am at least consistent, which is more than you are. Not so long ago you were thanking me for being a good friend to Penny. I wish you'd make up your mind.'

  By the time she'd finished speaking, her anger was tinged with hurt. Perhaps he was sensitive enough to pick it up, because he said, 'It looks as though I owe you another apology.'

  'Don't do me any favours. Just stop getting at me unless I give you cause.'

  'Fair enough.' He stood up suddenly and switched on a side lamp. The interlude was over. He was restless again, full of nervous energy. She'd had him all to herself, and mostly peacefully, for two hours. Now she'd lost him to whatever devil it was that was driving him. She wasn't at all surprised when he continued, 'I've got some work to clear up before the weekend.'

  He was almost at the study door when she said, 'Rafe?'

  'Yes?'

  He turned and looked at her, and now the companionship was gone she was once more painfully aware of his animal magnetism. She wanted to keep him with her but, at the same time, she wished she'd let him go. 'Nothing,' she went on. 'It doesn't matter.'

  Rafe came back and sat on the arm of the fireside chair, looking down at her. 'If something's on your mind, it matters. What is it?'

  'You don't think much of summer workers, do you?'

  'As a general rule, no.'

  'Why?' she asked.

  'They seem a pretty feckless, immoral bunch.'

  Which explains your attitude to me, she thought, wondering if she was beating her head against a brick wall for nothing. But she had to try to break down his prejudice. 'That's a dangerous generalisation, as generalisations usually are. If you really want to know about summer workers, you should talk to Rich. He's a sociologist. He's doing a postgraduate thesis on them. That's why he's working at the cafe, so he can identify.'

&nb
sp; 'You mean there's a brain in with all that brawn somewhere? You surprise me, but it explains the attraction. Is he a millionaire as well?'

  'A millionaire?' Elisa had forgotten her earlier flip remark. 'No, why?'

  'Because you'd have it made, wouldn't you?' replied Rafe, and went away and left her.

  He sounded, even to Elisa's disbelieving ears, like a jealous man. She sat on by the fire, staring at the study door firmly closed against her, wondering if at last she'd discovered exactly which devil it was that drove Rafe Sinclair to be so cruel and hurtful to her.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Saturday got off to a rocky start. Elisa, cooking breakfast, and Rafe, re-reading an old newspaper at the table, were painfully polite to each other, not having overcome the atmosphere they'd parted under the previous evening. They needed their little chaperone to turn the kitchen into a safe and domesticated place.

  When Penny did come in, though, she only deepened the gloom. She was wearing one of her prim frocks, white socks and shiny black shoes. For all the world, thought Elisa with exasperation, as though the past four days hadn't happened and Janet Tilson still reigned supreme.

  Rafe shot a baffled look at Elisa, and she responded swiftly by saying to Penny, 'It's a shorts and sandals day. The weather's great and we're going to the beach. I told you so last night, remember?'

  'I always wear a frock when I go out with Daddy,' Penny replied, sitting sedately at the table.

  'I can't think why,' Rafe remarked, unwinding his long frame from his chair and standing up so she could see he was wearing khaki shorts with his epauletted khaki shirt. He nodded to Elisa, who was wearing a similar outfit in denim, and added, 'Wouldn't you be more comfortable dressed like us?'

  But Penny only looked so confused and anxious that he sat down again, saying wearily, 'Never mind. If you're happy as you are, that's all that matters.'

  Elisa turned back to the cooker, as baffled as he was. To think this was the day when she'd hoped to show Rafe how much Penny had improved! The smell of burning recalled her to what she was supposed to be doing, and she found she'd let her attention wander for too long. The bacon was grilled to a crisp, the toast was singed and she'd forgotten to poach the eggs.