At His Convenience Bundle

by Penny Jordan

  ‘You want me to?’

  The question stopped Tess in her tracks; her righteous indignation fizzled away. ‘Not really,’ she conceded huskily. It had been bad enough waking without him this morning—the idea of Rafe vanishing off her personal horizon left her experiencing profound panic. Maybe she was only delaying the inevitable, but for the moment that didn’t matter. To her relief Rafe didn’t milk her admission—it was probably worth several pints of humiliation. He appeared happy to accept her reply at face value.

  ‘If you feel the need to kiss men, I’m available.’

  A small superior smile curved her lips as she raised her face to him. ‘You call that a kiss,’ she mocked.

  ‘No, I call this a kiss.’ He proceeded to demonstrate the difference. Rafe’s persuasive powers were quite remarkable.

  ‘Yes…well…’ Tess remarked vaguely when her head stopped spinning. ‘That was…’ his politely quizzical expression invited her to elaborate on the theme ‘…completely unnecessary,’ she announced severely.

  His dark eyes crinkled deliciously around the edges as his expression got all intimate and personal. ‘But quite nice?’

  Tess cleared her throat. ‘Very nice, actually, but I still don’t want you to come with me.’

  Rafe seemed prepared to accept her decision this time. ‘Fair enough,’ he drawled, giving a good impression of a reasonable, fair-minded individual he wasn’t! ‘I’ll see you later.’

  ‘You will?’ Tess frowned. The words had emerged far too breathlessly hopeful for her peace of mind.

  ‘I’ll be around,’ he assured her, heading off in the opposite direction with a casual farewell salute.

  For how long? she brooded, trying to turn her thoughts to Chloe and what she might want to say. It turned out Chloe said a lot and almost all of it surprised Tess.

  ‘Children, they’re a big responsibility, aren’t they?’ Chloe fretfully toyed with the bracelet around her slender wrist.

  ‘It was an accident, you can’t blame yourself,’ Tess soothed.

  ‘I don’t,’ Chloe responded immediately, looking puzzled.

  ‘I suppose you’ve felt like this every time he’s been ill. I couldn’t bear it!’ she choked.

  ‘I try not to be overprotective, but it’s an uphill battle,’ Tess admitted. ‘There are compensations, you know,’ she added quietly. ‘Children give a lot more than they take.’

  Chloe looked unconvinced. ‘I…I’m not used to worrying about anyone but myself,’ she confessed in a rush.

  Tess hadn’t thought Chloe was capable of such self-awareness. She felt quite dismayed by the maturity it implied—maturity she’d always been happy to believe Chloe lacked. Perhaps she could make a good mother, given support and an opportunity. She forced herself to consider the unpalatable possibility that she wasn’t the best person to take care of Ben—not if he had a real mother with a loving partner ready and willing to take on the role.

  ‘That’s perfectly normal. Neither was I before I started taking care of Ben.’

  ‘That’s not true, you were always taking care of some stray or other,’ Chloe interrupted with an impatient gesture.

  ‘I’m selfish, and I like being selfish.’ She threw out the words like a challenge and waited for Tess to supply the condemnation; when she didn’t Chloe’s expression grew frustrated.

  ‘I know you think it’s pathetic, but I like being the one everyone fusses and worries about. I don’t like sharing Ian with anyone.’ She bit her lip and lowered her eyes. Tess had to strain to hear what she said. ‘Ben called for you after the accident. Ian told me.’

  ‘Well, he hardly knows you…’ Tess swallowed and silently cursed the overdeveloped scruples that wouldn’t permit her to take advantage of the situation ‘…yet,’ she added, softening the blow.

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Chloe wondered, lifting her head jerkily. Her eyelashes, for once undarkened, were wet.

  ‘You don’t want me to take Ben away. All you had to do was tell me what an inadequate, awful excuse for a mother I am, and we both know it would be true. Why are you being kind to me?’ Unwittingly she echoed the question Tess was asking herself.

  ‘You are Ben’s mother.’

  ‘I gave birth to him.’

  ‘What exactly are you saying, Chloe?’

  ‘I’m saying he should stay with you.’

  Tess didn’t know she’d been carrying around the leaden weight until it magically lifted off her slender shoulders.

  ‘For how long?’ she asked when caution and common sense overcame relief. She wasn’t sure if she could go through all this in another few years when Chloe once more changed her mind.

  ‘Permanently. We’ll make it legal, if you like.’

  ‘Are you sure? Perhaps you should wait.’

  ‘I’ve made up my mind. There isn’t any room in my life for children, not for years and years…Maybe not ever.’

  ‘How does Ian feel about that?’ Tess wondered.

  Chloe looked surprised by the question. ‘Ian wants me to be happy,’ she explained simply.

  The student nurse permitted herself a second backward glance as she moved away from the tall figure who was now bending solicitously over the child sleeping in the cot. She wondered if it would be unprofessional to ask for his autograph.

  Tess’s eyes narrowed cynically as she noted the backward glance. ‘Did she call you…?’

  ‘Daddy? Yes, she did,’ Rafe admitted, looking a little startled by the experience. ‘That’s a first.’

  Probably not a last, though, Tess reflected, nibbling at her neatly trimmed fingernails. Rafe could produce as many babies as he wanted in the future.

  ‘I feel I should be wearing slippers…a pipe might be pushing it…’ he conceded.

  ‘If it’s any comfort, I don’t think little Miss Nightingale was regarding you in the cosy dependable light.’

  ‘Really!’ He made a point of looking around hopefully for the trim white-clad figure. The acid in Tess’s glare increased tenfold and he grinned widely. ‘You haven’t done that for years,’ he observed, taking the spare chair beside the sleeping boy’s bed.

  Tess snatched her hand self-consciously from her mouth. ‘It’s been a stressful day.’

  Rafe’s deep sigh suggested he agreed with her. ‘He’s asleep, then.’

  He made it sound as though this peaceful state of affairs had been achieved without a great deal of patience and persuasion.

  ‘Small thanks to you.’

  ‘You asked me to amuse him,’ Rafe protested.

  ‘Save that hurt, bemused look for the nursing staff!’ she advised tartly, allowing her glare to include the slim figure in an attractive uniform who was once more drifting past.

  ‘I’ve already had to suffer gushing reports of how much nicer and better-looking you are in the flesh.’

  Her eyes moved of their own accord to the small V of olive-toned flesh revealed by the neckline of the knitted polo shirt he was wearing. Don’t think flesh—don’t think flesh, she instructed herself firmly.

  ‘She’s back again,’ she muttered in a tight-lipped undertone. ‘Call me a cynic, but are we getting more attention now you’re back?’

  ‘You’re a cynic,’ he repeated obligingly. ‘Is it my fault I have fatal charm?’

  Tess snorted. It was less easy to treat his lethal charm lightly when you’d fallen victim to it as irrevocably as she had. ‘I asked you to amuse Ben. If I’d known you were going to overstimulate him I wouldn’t have bothered taking a break.’

  ‘You wouldn’t have bothered eating either.’ He subjected her slim figure to a thoughtful, narrow-eyed inspection. ‘And you can’t afford to lose any weight.’

  Tess’s sense of misuse increased. ‘I didn’t notice you being so picky last night.’

  ‘I’m always picky, Tess,’ he assured her soothingly.

  The way he was looking at her made her heart beat wildly against its confinement in her chest. She swallowed. ‘You’ve no
idea how flattered I feel,’ she drawled sarcastically.

  ‘You’ve no idea what sort of personal interest I take in how you feel,’ he came back smoothly.

  Tess decided a swift change of subject would be a good idea. ‘He was pumped up so high I thought he was going to self-combust,’ she grumbled. The student nurse bustled by yet again and Tess’s expression grew pained. ‘Why didn’t you tell her you’re not?’ she demanded in a pained whisper.

  ‘Not what? Irresistible…available…?’

  ‘Ben’s dad. She already thinks I’m his mum. If she thinks you’re his father she’ll think…think we’re…’ Under his interested innocent gaze, the colour bloomed darkly in her cheeks.

  ‘Intimate…?’ His voice was a seductive rasp that made all the fine hairs on her nape dance. He folded his arms and settled further back in his seat, smiling with malicious pleasure at her hot cheeks. ‘Having carnal relations? Doing it…? What a shocking thought!’

  ‘Must you be crude and vulgar?’ she choked.

  ‘Must you worry about what people think?’ he came back with equal distaste. ‘Besides, I would have thought that you of all people would have appreciated that it’s easier not to say anything sometimes. People in glass houses, my pet…’

  ‘I’m not your pet!’ she snapped, her eyes flashing green fire.

  His eyes dropped to her heaving bosom. ‘No,’ he agreed softly. ‘More feral than domesticated…but definitely feline.’

  ‘Will you stop talking nonsense?’

  ‘Yes, it probably is about time we got serious.’

  She didn’t like the sound of that at all. ‘It is?’

  ‘We can’t talk here.’ He gave a dissatisfied grimace as he looked around the quiet, dimly lit ward. ‘Let’s go somewhere more private. I’ve been trying to talk to you all day, only you keep running away.’

  And if there were anywhere left to run she’d still be doing so. ‘I don’t want to go anywhere private with you, so will you kindly stop manhandling me?’ she hissed. ‘You’re making us conspicuous.’

  ‘I think gentle encouragement is nearer the mark, but have it your own way.’ Ostentatiously Rafe removed his hand from her shoulder. ‘Anyone would think I’d flung you caveman-style over my shoulder—a method, incidentally, I don’t see much wrong with.’

  ‘That comes as no surprise to me, but I can think of a few other people to whom it might. If only those dynamic lady politicians you have eating out of your hand could hear their charming, politically correct host now!’

  ‘Is that a threat?’ he asked, not sounding particularly bothered.

  ‘Depends on how far you push me,’ she grumbled.

  ‘I’m prepared to push you the whole way if that’s what it takes,’ he explained cryptically with a pleasant and spine-chillingly ruthless smile. ‘However, for the present this ought to be far enough. Good, it’s empty,’ he announced briskly, after poking his head around the door of the small sitting room reserved for parents. ‘In my capacity as your lover—you’ll probably say I was exceeding my authority.’ It was hard to miss the fact he didn’t actually look or sound particularly apologetic.

  This was a description that she couldn’t let pass. ‘Your capacity as what?’ It was the wrong time for a stab of sexual hunger to tie her stomach in knots.

  ‘You prefer boyfriend?’ He appeared to give frowning consideration to the option. ‘A bit tepid, don’t you think? Anyhow, leaving my official title to one side for the moment, I refused entry to a visitor for Ben earlier.’ He looked as if the memory afforded him a considerable degree of pleasure.

  ‘Who?’ she managed weakly.

  ‘My grand…Sorry about that.’ His lips formed a humourless parody of a smile. ‘My father.’

  That explained the pleasure part.

  ‘And he went away…just like that?’ That didn’t sound like the Edgar Farrar she knew.

  ‘Not just like that exactly—you could say he needed a bit of convincing. He queried my right to eject him, too.’

  Tess was striving for philosophical but it wasn’t easy. ‘But you managed to convince him.’

  ‘I just explained how things were,’ he announced airily.

  ‘Perhaps when you’ve got a moment or two you might do the same for me…only not now!’ she begged drily when he opened his mouth to oblige. ‘There’s a limit to the number of shocks my nervous system can take in one twenty-four-hour period. Did you get around to asking what he wanted?’

  ‘Ben, I should think…wouldn’t you?’ Rafe watched the colour retreat, leaving her marble pale. The hand she raised to her lips was visibly shaking.

  ‘You’re not serious.’

  ‘Forget me,’ he advised. ‘It’s the old man you have to worry about and he’s deadly serious. Ben’s his grandson and, as far as he’s concerned, a Farrar. He’s taken one Farrar from his mother,’ Rafe reminded her grimly. ‘You don’t honestly think he’d have any scruples about doing it again? Sit down,’ he said softly, pushing her down into one of the soft easy chairs.

  ‘But Chloe is Ben’s mother and she wants me…’

  ‘Will Chloe remain resolute if Edgar waves a dirty great cheque in front of her sensitive nose?’ He waved an invisible bribe before her nose and, on the point of removing his hand, seemed to have second thoughts. ‘You’ve got a kind of cute nose.’ He allowed the tip of his thumb to gently graze the tip of her small neat nose. The action had all the hallmarks of compulsion about it. ‘Has anyone ever told you that?’ His voice carried a degree of intensity that didn’t match the joking frivolity of the comment.

  ‘That’s a horrible thing to imply.’

  ‘That you’ve got a cute nose?’ Despite her defence of her niece, Rafe could clearly see the doubt in her troubled emerald eyes. He withdrew his hand but let his fingers slide down the curve of her cheek as he did so; he felt the vibration of the quiver that involved her entire body. He was glad about that quiver; if a man was going to get obsessional about possessing a woman’s body, it made it less worrying if she felt the same way.

  Tess pulled her eyes from the dark, mesmeric hold of his unblinking regard. I am, she decided forlornly, addicted to the man.

  ‘You know what I mean,’ she protested huskily.

  And I know what you’re feeling. ‘Don’t shoot me, angel. I’m only the messenger.’

  ‘You could try not to look as though you enjoy your work.’

  ‘It might be different if you were married and financially solvent. The old man would find it hard to prove you’re not a fit person to care for Ben then.’

  ‘Would he take things that far?’ she asked dubiously.

  ‘You could wait and find out, or you could take preemptive action.’

  ‘I’m not a military unit!’

  ‘You might be a military target, though. You forget Edgar was the younger son before his big brother took a bullet in the war. All younger male Farrars do their obligatory stint…officers and gentlemen, one and all…’ He gave a mock salute.

  ‘Except you.’

  ‘Except me,’ he conceded. ‘The old man is particularly fond of pointing out that I’m not gentleman material. He’s also fond of saying that his military background always gives him the edge over competitors. Nothing like honing a man’s natural homicidal tendencies to equip him for life in the financial jungle.’

  When it came to survival techniques Tess doubted there was anything anyone could teach Rafe—mind you, he would have made a uniform look as good as humanly possible.

  ‘Anyone would be excused for thinking you’re trying to panic me. I’m a respectable, responsible person.’

  ‘A pillar of the community,’ he agreed obligingly.

  ‘And I’m not in debt,’ she gritted.

  ‘Maybe not, but you don’t have much put aside for the odd rainy day.’

  Tess chewed her lips as she silently acknowledged the truth of what he was saying. ‘There are more important things than money.’

  ‘Not when you haven
’t got any.’

  Tess gritted her teeth. Why was it Rafe always had an answer? ‘Ben’s older now, and I’ll be able to go back to work soon.’

  ‘A latchkey kid—that should go down well.’

  ‘I was talking about a nanny, not neglect!’

  ‘There is a simple solution…’

  ‘Sure, I could win the lottery. Well…?’ she prompted when his dramatic pause got too lengthy for her impatience.

  ‘I’m a captive audience—what are you waiting for?’

  ‘Marry me.’

  Tess’s eyes widened to their fullest extent and a tiny choking sound emerged from her parted lips as she shook her head.

  ‘Strange—you don’t look mad.’ Then again, he didn’t look like a man proposing either.

  There was a distinct lack of tender emotion in his hard, unflinching gaze. He looked more like a man determined to push through a particularly unpopular business deal against all the odds—maybe that wasn’t such a bad analogy…Tess didn’t think for one minute he actually wanted to marry her. He just wanted it more than he wanted Edgar to have any control over Ben’s future.

  ‘You’ll laugh about this,’ she continued, stifling a strong urge to weep loud and long, ‘but for a minute there I thought you said—’

  ‘I did.’ There was a definite note of impatience in his voice. ‘Marry me, Tess.’

  ‘I knew I was imagining it, because not even you could come up with such a crazy idea.’ Tess managed a slightly shaky laugh to demonstrate how amusing she found the entire notion.

  ‘Why is it crazy?’ There was a note of belligerence in his deep tone.

  ‘Listen, even if there was a possibility of your…of Edgar trying to get custody of Ben—which I don’t think for one minute is going to happen—there’s no way I would even consider marrying you.’

  ‘You’re sleeping with me.’

  To her intense frustration and growing desperation, he showed no signs of having heard her at all—the man had the flexibility of a steel bar! She decided to appeal to the rational side of his nature.

  ‘There’s a big difference between casually sleeping with someone and marrying them, Rafe.’