At His Convenience Bundle

by Penny Jordan

‘How do you know?’ He frowned. ‘Know that it’s Ben?’

  Tess looked at him as though he’d just said something extremely stupid. She’d know Ben’s cry if you hid it amongst another hundred others.

  ‘I just know,’ she announced impatiently.

  Rafe reached the boy’s bedside about the same time as the nurse. Tess was already soothing the fretful child.

  CHAPTER NINE

  TESS felt miserable that they’d argued before he’d left for town. She knew it was unreasonable to feel mad with Rafe for leaving in the middle of a sizzling row, but she did anyhow.

  Nursing her rancour, she chose not to dwell on the fact he hadn’t had much choice in the matter. It was quite a coup to get an interview with the latest high-profile political casualty. The higher they’d climbed, the more spectacular the fall and the greater the public interest—so far this chap had refused to speak to anyone but Rafe.

  She couldn’t even legitimately complain that Rafe put work ahead of everything else. He’d taken loads of time out of a crammed schedule when Ben had been in hospital and newly returned home.

  He must be wondering what he had to do to make her happy…pity she couldn’t tell him! The thing was, her emotions were all over the place. The emotional see-saw of dramatic mood swings was exhausting, which probably accounted for the intense, bone-deep fatigue she’d been experiencing lately.

  She wasn’t the only who looked less than bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Rafe was displaying signs of strain too, but it was probably pretty tiring living with someone when you were never very sure if they were about to burst out crying or demand urgently to be made love to!

  She gained some comfort from the fact Rafe always seemed happy to oblige her where the love-making was concerned—their communication problems didn’t extend as far as the bedroom, where things remained several degrees better than blissful!

  That initial anger she’d felt was now tinged by a steadily growing conviction that she might have overreacted slightly when she’d found out he’d put the announcement of their impending marriage in The Times.

  Rafe’s casual response when she’d waved the offending item under his eyes had transformed her shock into simmering anger.

  ‘I meant to tell you, it must have slipped my mind.’ Rafe slid the last item into his holdall. ‘The old man might actually believe we’re serious now,’ he added, fastening the bag and heaving it over his shoulder.

  His explanation didn’t fool her; nothing slipped Rafe’s mind!

  ‘Edgar isn’t the only one who will see it.’

  Rafe’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. ‘And that bothers you?’

  ‘It bothers me that people will expect me to act like a blushing bride,’ she snapped.

  It bothered her that she couldn’t tell him she loved him. Part of her wanted to take the risk; she’d been on the point of blurting it out a hundred times. Sometimes she literally ached from wanting to tell him. If he’d ever given a single hint that he wanted anything more from her than sex, she might have.

  ‘I can make you blush.’ He used the soft intimate purr that acted on her like an instant aphrodisiac. His words reawakened the memory of the things he’d said to her when they’d made love that morning, things that had made her whole body burn.

  Her stomach muscles contracted violently. Looking in his eyes felt like drowning…drowning in desire.

  ‘God, I wish you didn’t have to go!’ she wailed hoarsely.

  ‘Then come. Come with me,’ he responded immediately.

  A brilliant smile lit her face, then just as dramatically it faded. ‘I can’t—I’m not packed, neither is Ben. It isn’t really practical.’

  He shrugged as if it didn’t matter to him anyway. ‘But you’re all right about the announcement?’

  He didn’t even care enough to try and persuade me…‘Does it matter?’

  ‘A formal gesture might not be necessary if you were wearing my ring,’ he drawled, his glance skimming her bare left hand.

  Tess’s hand curled into a tight fist. ‘Not that again! I’ve told you…’

  ‘That a ring is an outmoded symbol of ownership,’ he recited in a monotonous monotone. ‘Yes, you have, Tess—on numerous occasions, and if those were your genuine views I’d respect them, but we both know they’re not.’

  ‘You can’t leave after saying something like that!’ she cried, slamming the door he had just opened and leaning her back against it.

  ‘Let’s face it, Tess, you threw the ring back in my face because you’re determined to act as if this marriage is some sort of cosmetic affair. A ring, an official announcement, it all makes it seem too real for your taste. When the vicar asks if you will, you’ll probably say maybe!’

  His accusation was so close to the mark she naturally got a lot madder.

  ‘It may have escaped your notice, but this marriage is a cosmetic affair.’ Her dulcet tone concealed desperate pain.

  ‘This marriage,’ he bit back, ‘will be what we make of it. For Ben’s sake…’

  Does he think I’m likely to forget this is all for Ben’s sake? she wondered miserably.

  ‘We were talking about this,’ she interrupted coldly, shaking the offending newspaper, ‘yet another example of your high-handed behaviour and—’ She stopped abruptly. ‘Did you say vicar? I thought we’d agreed that a register office would be more appropriate?’

  ‘I didn’t agree with anything.’ His gentle smile was provocative in the extreme as he opened the door with her still attached to it and calmly stepped through.

  Her fury and frustration bubbling over, Tess followed him into the hallway, almost running to keep up with him as he made his way towards the front door of the cottage. Of all the stiff-necked, self-righteous, stubborn…

  ‘You really are your father’s son, aren’t you?’ she flung wildly at his broad-shouldered back.

  That got his attention. He stopped and turned so abruptly that Tess had to dig her heels into the worn tread of the mellow-toned carpet that covered the oak boards to prevent herself catapulting into him.

  ‘Did you just say that for effect, or have you actually got a point to make?’

  Rafe had remarkably expressive eyes—had she been allowed she could have covered several sheets of A4 with adoring descriptions of those sensational velvety orbs—and right now they weren’t saying anything flattering about Tess. A lesser soul, or possibly a less furious soul, than Tess might have been intimidated by the austere sneer that drew one corner of his mouth upwards at exactly the same fascinating angle as one quizzically haughty eyebrow.

  ‘You’re just as anxious to keep up appearances as Edgar is!’ she told him, her lower lip quivering with disgust and disillusionment. ‘I always thought you were more honest than that.’

  If she’d thought for one second Rafe’s extravagant plans had been inspired by anything other than a desire to make their marriage plans look authentic for the benefit of the world in general, and his father in particular, she’d have rejoiced and been more than happy to wear his ring. Hell, she’d have worn an elastic band if the reason he’d offered it had been that he loved her!

  There had been no mention of love when he’d produced the ring; in fact his manner had been insultingly offhand. She would have happily been married in a cupboard, and by the same token would have walked down the aisle in a cathedral if the man who loved her wanted to shout about their love to the world! Knowing Rafe didn’t just made her more reluctant to go along with his plans.

  ‘I’m sorry if my integrity falls short of your standards.’ The frigid silence lasted for a handful of seconds before he turned on his heel and left. Tess wanted to run after him, but she didn’t.

  During the miserable twenty-four hours since he’d been gone Tess had come to accept that she couldn’t carry on punishing Rafe for not loving her. She ought to feel glad that at least when it came to important things he’d never pretended.

  She was going into this marriage with her eyes open, it was Raf
e who wasn’t, which in her eyes made her the worst sort of hypocrite! The more she thought about it, the more convinced she became that she couldn’t go through with the wedding without telling Rafe the truth, which was why she’d caught the train up to London and, with a holdall under one arm and a baby under the other, was now standing outside the building where Rafe lived.

  Rafe’s flat was on the top floor of the old warehouse conversion, a minimalist’s paradise with acres of polished wood floors, lots of industrial chrome and light streaming in through vast windows that overlooked the river.

  It made her feel even guiltier to recall that at a word from her he’d made it clear he was willing to sacrifice this bachelor haven for a more child-friendly environment. She wouldn’t even wear his stupid ring!

  Perhaps she’d feel better once she’d told him the truth. The flip side of that coin was that she could feel a lot worse if he reacted badly to the news his reluctant fiancée was actually wildly in love with him!

  Tess opted for the lift. Stairs might be the healthier option, but not when you were carrying a sleepy toddler. Ben was making up for lost time—he seemed to have put on several pounds in the weeks since he’d been discharged from hospital.

  I just hope that after all this Rafe’s at home. Who are you kidding, Tess? she mocked herself. You’re praying he won’t be home. Just in case her prayers were answered and the inevitable was delayed, she’d brought the key he’d given her. Spontaneity was all well and good, but with a baby in tow it paid to make contingency plans.

  As it happened she didn’t need a key—the front door was ajar. Tess frowned. People—Rafe included—just didn’t leave their doors open or even ajar in the security-conscious city. Either Rafe had had burglars or he’d been spending too much time in their crime-free village.

  Not burglars, she decided, walking into the scrupulously tidy open-plan living area. The first thing that hit her was the absence of baby clutter. She pictured some blonde draped across the soft leather sofa and the bile rose in her throat. She’d never suspected that jealousy could be such a physical emotion. Along with the nausea, her throat was dry and her heart was palpitating as if she’d opted for stairs.

  The anticlimax was tremendous when her call produced no response.

  She wandered through to the bedroom, looking about her curiously. It had been a long time since she’d been here. The Japanese-style decor in the bedroom was new. With relief she knelt down and laid the sleeping child on the bed. Relieved of her burden, she flexed her aching shoulders.

  Out of the corner of her eyes she caught a flicker of movement. It came from outside on the balcony that ran the length of the flat linking the living area to the master bedroom.

  Don’t think, just do it, she instructed herself firmly. The door slid silently across, and Tess was just about to step outside when she realised Rafe wasn’t alone. She hastily drew back into the bedroom. Once she’d heard the voice was female there was no question of her closing the door and waiting.

  ‘I knew when I saw the announcement in the paper what a terrible, terrible mistake I’d made, darling!’ The unseen person pleaded in a breathy, little-girl whisper. ‘You must know you’re acting on the rebound. Don’t do it, please!’

  There was the sound of sobbing. It wasn’t the sort of no-holds-barred sobbing that made a girl’s eyes red and puffy; it was a delicate, restrained, eye-dabbing variety, designed to melt susceptible, protective male hearts.

  Tess, her eyes closed tight, could visualise the sort of comfort going on during the nerve-racking silence. There was a scream building up somewhere in the tight confines of her chest.

  ‘If it wasn’t for the baby…we’d—’

  Tess wondered how the other woman managed to make a laugh sound bitter and sexy simultaneously.

  ‘I know it’s not easy for any man to take on another man’s child…’

  ‘I might have agreed with you once. We live and learn.’ There was a note of joyous discovery in Rafe’s voice as he warmed to his theme. ‘I could take on another man’s child. If I loved the woman, Claudine, it wouldn’t matter…nothing would matter! And as a matter of fact I do love a woman…’

  There came a point when enough was enough and Tess was way past that point. With a keening sob aching to escape her tight throat, she turned, picked up Ben and ran. She didn’t stop until she ran slap bang into a tall figure dressed in an exquisitely cut dark suit that shrieked of expensive bespoke tailoring.

  She placed a soothing hand on Ben’s head as he stirred in his sleep. Wiping the moisture from her cheeks, she lifted her downcast head to mumble an apology to the stranger.

  Her tragic tear-washed eyes seemed to fill her entire face. She summoned a weak smile.

  ‘I’m sorry…Oh, it’s you!’

  ‘Good afternoon, Miss Trelawny.’ Edgar Farrar’s gaze slid from her tear-stained face to the child asleep in her arms. ‘He’s got Alec’s colouring,’ came the terse verdict after a moment of intense, apparently unemotional scrutiny.

  Eyes wide and fearful, Tess took an automatic step backwards.

  A sneer appeared on his lined, lean face. ‘Don’t worry, child, I’m not about to snatch him away.’

  Tess wasn’t too keen on playing Little Red Riding Hood to his big bad wolf. Her mouth firmed as she looked him straight in the eyes and declared in a clear voice, ‘I wouldn’t let you.’ She didn’t want him having any doubts on that score.

  ‘No, I don’t suppose you would.’ A thoughtful expression accompanied this response. ‘Is Rafe at home?’

  At the mention of Rafe she was plunged straight back into the depths of despair.

  ‘He’s got company.’

  Edgar hadn’t mentioned her tears, but it was unrealistic to suppose he hadn’t noticed and put two and two together. His next words confirmed her suspicions and his interrogator’s keen eye.

  ‘The sort of company that makes you weep?’ With a lordly gesture he brushed aside Tess’s mechanical rebuttal.

  ‘You don’t strike me as a young woman who weeps easily’

  Another second and he’d see exactly how easily she could weep. ‘If you’ll excuse me.’ She tried to brush past him but he moved to block her path.

  ‘No, I don’t think I will.’

  ‘Pardon?’

  ‘I won’t excuse you just yet. Where exactly are you going?’

  It was easier to reply than argue, so she did. ‘I’m going to catch the first train home.’

  A crowded train on a hot and sticky day—what better way to round off a perfect day? she wondered sourly. What was I thinking of, imagining even for one minute that Rafe might admit he felt anything other than lust, and possibly pity for me? She flinched away from the mortification of her own stupidity. At least she’d had her eyes opened before she’d made a total fool of herself…the thought of her lucky escape didn’t do much to improve her frame of mind.

  ‘I think we can do rather better than the train.’

  Edgar moved—quite nimbly for someone of his years—to one side and Tess saw the large sleek Rolls illegally parked at the kerbside.

  At a gesture from the owner the driver leapt out and opened the nearside passenger door. She glanced nervously over her shoulder, half expecting Rafe or his lover to emerge from the building. Deliverance had never looked so fraught with danger to Tess, or so luxurious.

  She didn’t imagine for one moment that Edgar’s gesture had been motivated by concern for her welfare. On the one hand her nose was detecting the unmistakable odour of an ulterior motive, but on the other there was no denying that railway travel with a tired toddler was no picnic, especially when you’d been stupid enough to leave behind all the toddler’s favourite foods and toys. She wanted to be well clear of here when Rafe discovered the bag of baby things in his bedroom.

  ‘I thought you were going to see Rafe.’

  The elder Farrar didn’t deny this. ‘As were you…’ her determined rescuer pointed out.

  ‘I changed my m
ind.’ About a lot of things.

  ‘Not the sole prerogative of women. Now get in, Miss Trelawny…’ his shrewd eyes scanned her pale face ‘…this is becoming tiresome.’

  What was it about the Farrar men that made them automatically assume she was there for them to bully?

  ‘I should explain that I react very negatively to intimidation tactics.’

  ‘The last time we spoke you were far more decisive. Despite what you might have been told, I don’t eat babies.’ He gave a thin-lipped smile.

  ‘I suppose,’ she conceded ungraciously, ‘that you’re the lesser of two evils.’ Actually it was the realisation that her wallet had been in the holdall along with Ben’s things that tipped the balance. She sat back in the air-conditioned luxury and sighed.

  ‘Would I be correct in assuming that the greater evil is tall, dark and at present entertaining another woman?’

  It would seem that Rafe had inherited his irritating habit of reading between the lines from his father. Aware that she was being observed for any response, Tess willed her expression to remain impassive.

  ‘We’ll be going home, William,’ her host told the driver.

  ‘You’ll be happy to know the wedding won’t be going ahead.’ Somehow she didn’t think that Rafe was going to be too sad when she explained she could no longer consider marrying him.

  If this news gladdened the elderly financier’s heart, he hid it well. ‘You know, you look very like your grandmother.’

  Tess was momentarily diverted from the gloomy contemplation of the rest of her life. ‘I didn’t know you knew Gran.’

  ‘A remarkable woman. When it came to my attention that Rafe was making nocturnal visits to your home, I confronted her.’

  ‘You knew!’

  ‘So did your grandmother. She assured me that when the time was right she’d put a stop to it. I trusted her judgement.’

  ‘Put a stop…’ Tess puzzled.

  ‘I believe she had a word with Rafe when she considered it to be inappropriate.’

  ‘Oh! I didn’t know…’ Tess’s cheeks began to burn. ‘It was all perfectly innocent!’ she protested.