'I don't want to get up to a sinkful of washing.' She didn't know why she was being difficult. Perhaps because she automatically resisted anybody who bossed her about, and Rafe could be bossier than most. She turned the tap on full blast.
His hand came over her shoulder and switched off the tap, and this time his voice in her ear reminded her, 'I said now, Elisa.' He put his hands on her waist and lifted her aside as though she were a featherweight. He opened the kitchen door, threw the bowl out on to the patio and closed the door again.
'And you call me scatty!' she breathed.
'If you can throw my breakfast away, I don't see why I shouldn't do the same to your washing. Do I have your full attention now, Miss Marshall?'
Elisa didn't know whether she was being bullied, charmed or flirted with, but he was smiling at her and she couldn't help but smile back. 'Certainly, Mr Sinclair,' she mocked.
'About time,' he grumbled, but he was smiling. They picked up their drinks and as they walked through the hall to the sitting-room he put an arm companionably across her shoulders.
The goose-pimples she suffered from then were entirely pleasurable. She liked this relaxed and friendly man, which was something altogether different to being fascinated by him. She knew how unreliable his moods were, none better, yet she wanted to believe he'd always been like this before Sheena had soured him. If so, like his daughter, he was curable...
They sat opposite each other in armchairs pulled up towards the fire. It was a cheerful one, the coals glowing, the logs crackling with flames. She picked up a poker because she did love playing with a fire, but he took it from her. 'Don't start fussing again. The fire doesn't need it. I'm a better Boy Scout than you are.'
'Is that where you learned your novel way with laundry?'
He smiled and stretched back lazily in his chair, his long legs tangling with hers, which didn't seem to bother him, although she self-consciously moved hers away. Like herself, he had showered and changed into jeans and sweater. He'd switched on only two wall lights, and their effect was muted so that the fire was the principal source of light.
He looked so handsome, so masculine, so utterly at ease, that she was swamped with love for him. It had been bad enough at times on the beach, but here in the quiet room, within the intimate circle of the fire's glow, she was almost overwhelmed by the need to reach out and touch him. She sipped her coffee, hoping the brandy in it would lull her nerves.
He'd said he'd wanted to talk to her, but as he drank his brandy he didn't seem to be in a hurry to say anything. She began to wonder if it was her company he really wanted and her senses fluttered anew. She drained her cup and put it down on a side table.
'Another one?' he asked.
She shook her head, not trusting her voice.
'A sandwich?' he offered.
That was strange. He was treating her as a guest, somebody special enough to be pampered. She was the one who usually did the running around. She discovered she liked him pampering her, although she replied, 'No, thanks. I'm happy as I am.'
'Happy enough to stay with me?' he asked softly.
She wanted to put her hands over her heart to stop its sudden agonising thumping. She could scarcely believe her ears, and yet it would have been even more incredible if all this emotion she'd been bottling up was a one-way thing. No, today—with all its right bits and even the wrong—had worked its magic on him, too.
'S-stay?' she whispered, needing the right words from him to anchor the magic so it wouldn't drift away like another bittersweet dream.
'An extra week. A fortnight, if you can manage it. What Penny said this evening shows she's at a crucial point in her recovery. She very nearly came out with the whole story. I can't risk handing her over to another nanny who knows nothing about her. She needs you.' Rafe leaned forward and grasped her wrist. 'The same terms will apply, and I'll throw in a bonus.'
She stared down at his hand, glad of the fire's glow to hide the dull flush of humiliation that stained her cheeks. She felt numb. It was Penny who needed her, not him, and he'd made it plain enough he'd do whatever was necessary to get what Penny, wanted.
Elisa knew he'd deliberately duped her. He'd charmed and cosseted her until she'd become putty in his hands. The worst part was that she couldn't loathe him, only herself for being such a love-struck fool.
She couldn't seem to take her eyes off his hand on her wrist. It was brown and strong and, rotten as he was, she wanted to bend her head and rub her cheek against it. She watched his hand move from her wrist, take her hand and hold it. 'Please, Elisa,' he said.
So he was ready to plead. She hated that. She'd rather have him bullying her than begging. He might kick her pride all over the place, but she didn't have it in her to do the same to his. She carefully removed her hand from his and, to play for time, she replied, 'You've certainly sprung this on me. Another week?'
'At least. I'll try to finish my work by then, but if you can manage a fortnight I can use that final week to gradually take over caring for her myself so the new routine is established before you leave. That will make it easier for Penny, and it will give me plenty of time to find a suitable permanent nanny. Sheena chose Janet, but I'll be looking for the right character and personality as well as qualifications.'
'Then you won't be having Janet back?'
Rafe's face grew grim. 'No. If it was Sheena who damaged Penny, Janet must have known. She could have shielded her, or at least told me about it. She did neither. And if it was Janet --' He broke off, and when he continued it was to say, 'I'll make a quick trip to England while you're here to see her and get things straight. I can be there and back within twenty-four hours.'
'What I don't understand,' Elisa said, frowning, 'is why she had to be away for six weeks. I didn't think of it at the time, but people needing appendectomies don't need all that time to recover.'
'There were complications, including a kidney infection, and she was generally in a low state of health. I thought she'd worn herself down worrying about Penny, so the least I could do was give her six weeks to rest and recover properly.' He leaned towards her again and Elisa moved back in her chair. She didn't want him touching her again. His reasons still weren't right.
'Well, Elisa?' he asked. 'Will you spare me that extra fortnight? You'll still have two for your island hopping.'
'I'm not the only one involved. There's Barbara.' Belatedly she remembered the letter in her back pocket and she pulled it out. 'I've been carrying this around all day and I still haven't opened it.'
'Read it now,' said Rafe, standing up and taking her cup from the side table. 'I'll make some more coffee.'
Elisa opened the envelope. There were several pages of Babs' hurried scrawl and, with Rafe so much on her mind, she found it hard to concentrate. She had to read it twice before she got the full gist of it. Babs had been so excited, it was full of exclamation marks, crossings out and underlining. She was staring into space when Rafe put a fresh cup of coffee beside her.
He sat down and studied her face. 'Bad news?'
'No—no, nothing like that. Just a bit of a bombshell.' Elisa picked up her coffee and the smell told her there was brandy in it before she sipped it. 'You don't have to get me drunk to make me agreeable. You can have your extra two weeks.'
He smiled and again she moved back as he leaned towards her and said, 'Thank you, Elisa. As I've said, I'll make it more than worth your while.'
'I'm already overpaid and don't thank me, thank Babs. She's no longer a problem, at least as far as you're concerned. With me, it's a different matter. The deputy head of the language school is an American, and she's flying to the States with him when the school breaks up in June to get married.. She'll be honeymooning in --' Elisa referred to the letter '—in Wyoming until school re-starts in September, then she'll be living permanently in Athens.'
'So you've lost your travelling partner? What will you do?'
'Find another, or tour by myself. I'm not ready to go home yet.' She wa
s glancing through the letter again and smiled. 'She says they mean to start a family pretty soon because she's turned thirty, poor old dear.'
'How old are you, Elisa?'
'Pushing twenty-six.'
'I was ten when you were born.'
Elisa was happy for Babs but twice as miserable for herself, and to cover it she lightly, 'Did you have a green velvet suit and clay pipe?'
'Pardon?'
'I thought once that you must have looked like Bubbles when you were a boy—you know, the Millais painting.'
Rafe laughed and, miserable as she was, she enjoyed watching and listening to him. She wasn't surprised when he told her, 'My hair was never that long, and I was never that angelic.'
'That I can believe.'
His eyebrows rose. 'Do I detect disapproval? I thought we were friends.'
She wanted to accuse him of buttering her up to make her stay longer. Afraid, though, of revealing the depth of her resentment, she changed the subject. 'Remember saying once you believed I reminded Penny of her mother? There's a photograph of Sheena in her room, and I'm nothing like her. We're both fair, but our faces are entirely different.'
Rafe nudged a log on the fire with his boot, sending a shower of sparks up the chimney. Then he replied curtly, 'You give the same impression. You have the same confidence, the same swinging walk, the same --'
'Hang on,' Elisa interrupted, irritated by the increasing contempt in his voice, 'I wasn't walking when you first saw me. I was lying on the beach.'
'I'd seen you a couple of times before that. You were walking along the beach road while I was driving through to town. The similarity was striking.'
Elisa had almost finished her coffee, and there'd been enough brandy in it to give her the courage to say, 'You disliked me on sight because of some cock-eyed notion that I was like the wife you loathed!'
'I've apologised for that.'
So he had, but it still stung. 'You were going to mention something else about us you thought was the same. What was it?'
'The same sexuality.'
'Oh.' Elisa hadn't been expecting that. She recovered enough to protest, 'Well, I don't chuck it about, do I?'
'It wouldn't matter if you did,' replied Rafe coldly. 'I'm cured of the obvious. I go for something a bit more subtle now.'
Damn it, he'd hurt her again. Really hurt her, too much to protest when he stood up and told her curtly, 'If you'll excuse me, I have some work to catch up on.'
He went out of the room, taking with him the magic from the day and the dream from her heart.
CHAPTER TEN
Sunday morning was remarkable for two things. Elisa cooked an excellent breakfast and Rafe behaved as though they'd never exchanged a cross word. Elisa, with deepening scepticism, thought he must be afraid she'd go back on her word and refuse to stay the extra fortnight—which showed how little he really knew her.
After breakfast they went for a walk through the olive groves, Rafe holding Penny's hand and Elisa bringing up the rear with her bag stuffed with art materials slung over her shoulder. When they came to an upthrust of rocks, she stayed to do some sketching, thinking that, the more she dropped out of the picture, the more Rafe and Penny would become used to each other's company.
She watched them until the path twisted and they were lost to view, then she climbed the rocks until they levelled out and the trees began again. From her vantage point she could look down over the groves to the sea. She settled down and began to draw quickly, thinking this would make a good watercolour if she ever found the time.
Perhaps during the long, cold winter in England, when there would be no sun to put warmth into the colours, no Rafe to put meaning into heir life. She wished—oh, drat, she thought, I wish too many things that are never going to come true. The sketch was finished. She closed the book and brought out a smaller one she kept closed with an elastic band.
Elisa slipped the band over her wrist and looked through it page by page. This was her secret indulgence, for over these pages her love for Rafe spilled out, capturing him from every angle and in every mood. Well, almost. There wasn't one of him with lover's eyes. She'd tried many times to draw him with the soft glow of love muting the clarity of the blue, but none had worked out right. She would have to see it for herself to capture it.
Elisa heard them coming back before she saw them. They were laughing, so something was going right somewhere, and she hastily re-packed her bag and began the descent from the rocks. It was much harder, and seemed a lot farther, going down then coming up, so that she began to wonder if she had chosen the right place.
She was nearly down and scrabbling frantically for a foothold when she felt Rafe's hands on her waist. He lifted her down and smiled. 'I don't think you're ready for Everest yet.'
'Not in these shoes, at any rate.' They both looked at her open-toed sandals. She wondered why he was still holding her by the waist, and whether he guessed her breathlessness was not from climbing.
'We missed you,' he said, releasing her with every sign of reluctance.
'Yes,' Penny agreed, holding up a bunch of wild flowers. 'I had to pick these all by myself.'
'We wouldn't have left you at all if we'd known you were going to get stuck,' Rafe told her, taking Penny's hand as they began the long walk down to the villa.
'I wasn't stuck,' Elisa protested, falling in beside him, and making the mistake of looking at him. He was smiling down at her. Her heart somersaulted and she conceded, 'All right, I was.'
He was too close, which wasn't good for her, and she was just going to fall behind when his arm came across her shoulders in that companionable way he'd adopted yesterday. She knew now that it was a ploy, a way to draw her into the circle, make her feel wanted. She wasn't going to be duped into cloud cuckoo land again—and yet she stayed where she was. The needs of the flesh were cancelling out the urgent warnings of the brain.
Slowly, stupidly, but unavoidably, she began to feel happy.
Elisa was still wary enough not to expect another magical day, but there was no denying Rafe's charm and good humour put a certain sparkle into it. When they were back at the villa she asked him, 'How do we dress to visit your friends?'
'Frocks would be right, but nothing that a barbecue might spoil, and pack your swimsuits.'
Elisa didn't possess a frock. She teamed an Indian cotton skirt of deep blue and white with a white blouse that tied below her breasts to leave her tanned midriff bare. It was hot and getting hotter, so she tied her hair into a ponytail to keep it clear of her neck. For the first time since she'd met Rafe she wore make-up, pink lipstick and a touch of deep blue eyeshadow.
She couldn't have looked at her reflection more nervously if this had been a date her whole future depended on. No, she was definitely not overdone—under, if anything—but she was still more 'dressed up' than he'd ever seen her. A touch of perfume, her feet slipped into her best sandals with little heels, and she was ready.
Penny, dressed in a pink and white frock with her fair curls gleaming, didn't notice any difference, but she flattered herself that Rafe did. He was wearing lightweight fawn trousers with a matching shirt and a dark brown tie, and she found herself thinking wistfully, If only he were mine... He crooked an arm for both of them and said, 'Two pretty ladies. I'm honoured.'
Penny reached up for one arm, Elisa slipped hers through the other and he added appreciatively, 'Mm, you smell nice, too.'
As he led them out of the front door Elisa leaned forward to look at Penny and said, 'I think we're supposed to say "Thank you, kind sir".' They said it in unison, then they were climbing into the Land Rover. Rafe put the beach-bags in the back and Elisa raised her eyebrows when she saw his briefcase among them.
'A touch of business in with the pleasure,' he explained as he got in beside her.
They lunched at Benitses, took a boat over to Mouse Island, and then Rafe looked at his watch and said it was time they were on their way to the Carstairs' villa. 'You'll like Anne,' he told her
as they joined the town-bound traffic. 'She's nearly sixty, but you'd never guess it. Her husband Tony's a stockbroker. He won't be joining her until the end of June, but she has a couple of grandchildren, Nikos and Markos with her, both older than Penny. There'll be plenty of other children there, though. The villa is usually like a mini United Nations. Anne has the knack of making all nationalities feel at home.'
'You sound as though you've known her a long time,' Elisa observed.
'Since I was born. The Carstairs have had a villa here as long as my family.'
The traffic thinned out at the other side of town, and apart from an occasional car or delivery truck they had the road to themselves. Rafe had fallen silent, as though he had something on his mind, and Elisa and Penny shared comments on the beautiful views.
'Here we are,' Penny told Elisa as Rafe spun the wheel and they went down a dirt track at considerably reduced speed. 'I've been here before.'
'Lucky you,' Elisa breathed. Rafe was parking next to a group of cars, and she was looking up at a lovely white-painted villa with verandas on both storeys overlooking the sea and a deep, wide patio in front which was thronged with brightly dressed people.
There were curving approach steps on either side. Rafe took his briefcase from the back and led them up the nearest flight. 'We'll leave the beach-bags where they are until we want them,' he told Elisa, and nodded down towards the beach. 'There are changing cabins down there, so if you and Penny want a dip before I'm ready, just go ahead.'
He steered them through the crowd on the patio. It took a lot of time. He knew everybody and soon Elisa's head was reeling with all the introductions. It would take her a month of applied effort, she thought, to sort out who everybody was.
They made an equally slow progress through the house. Maids were circulating with trays of drink and food. By this time she'd registered that the Carstairs lived extremely well. Her Indian cotton looked very homespun among all the silks, and thank God she hadn't worn her frayed cut-offs!
Still Rafe pressed on, until they were on another patio at the back of the house, surrounded by flowerbeds and a heavily wooded garden. The crowd was much thinner here, the noise of chatter mercifully less, and then a rather buxom woman with red-tinted hair and a green silk afternoon frock that smacked of Bond Street came towards them with arms outstretched.
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