The Secret Father

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The Secret Father Page 7

by Kim Lawrence


  ‘That very pretty mouth nibbling me.’

  She drew a sharp, startled gasp. ‘Oh, my goodness!’ Vivid images danced across her vision.

  ‘My very thought,’ he rumbled, amusement echoing in the vault of his chest. ‘God, but I love you!’ He was still laughing when he claimed her parted lips.

  Lindy gave herself up to the spiralling excitement. She wouldn’t read anything into a term which people around her seemed to use with reckless abandon. Like a missing piece in a jigsaw, something clicked in her brain. It was easy to blot out the truth when her senses were filled with the taste, touch and smell of Sam.

  ‘Sweet and slow this time?’ His voice was warm and rich with anticipation.

  ‘It sounds fine to me,’ she agreed faintly.

  It was.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’

  He sounded as if he really cared about her opinion. ‘I think she’s beautiful, Sam.’ That he loved every gleaming inch of the forty-eight-foot boat had been obvious as he’d shown her over the Jennifer, his pride concealed behind an endearingly offhand manner.

  He seemed to relax a little after scrutinising her expression with a strange intensity. Lindy had the feeling she’d passed some sort of test.

  ‘We’ll motor out to sea and then you can feel what sail power is all about,’ he promised.

  Sam’s enthusiasm was infectious, but all the same the feeling of raw power when the white sails unfurled filled her with a totally unexpected sense of awe and delight.

  She wasn’t alone long before Sam came to join her. Not used to the pitch of the deck, she caught hold of his arm to steady herself as she took the few steps to his side.

  ‘It’s incredible,’ she shouted, laughing up at him. Exhilaration sparkled in her eyes.

  ‘It’s home,’ he said simply. ‘Nothing else gives the same sense of freedom.’ His blue eyes were fixed on the distant horizon.

  Lindy frowned; for a moment his abstraction alienated her. He was so totally at home in this environment. She shrugged to banish the transitory feeling. She didn’t want anything to spoil the day. She had him all to herself. Work occupied such a lot of Sam’s energy and she’d been anticipating these two days with impatient delight. Now it was here she wanted the time to last for ever. She was glad that Hope had refused Sam’s invitation to join them, and she hoped she had hidden her unsisterly chagrin at the casual inclusion.

  The ever present worry that Sam Rourke was an addiction she was going to find hard to break when the time came surfaced, only to be banished once more to the back of her mind. She saw him every day on set, but his behaviour there gave no hint of their private relationship. Whilst she didn’t want to be the object of gossip and conjecture, sometimes Lindy did find the situation frustrating. When she listened to yet another speculative comment about whom Sam might be seeing she wanted to scream, No, it’s not her, it’s me he’s with! She would stop short, shocked by the thoughts in her head. It was as if they belonged to a stranger.

  Content to ride the white-crested waves in silence, she leant back against him. For the first time in days the tension that had lain coiled just below the surface was absent from his body. He was pushing himself, if not to the limit—because she already knew his endurance was formidable—pushing himself hard. Lindy traced a pattern with her rope-soled shoe on the teak deck. No rich man’s plaything, this craft. Sam had made it quite plain that this was a working yacht, a steel-hulled ketch capable of crossing oceans.

  Everything below deck was neat and functional. The craftsmanship in the oak fittings was superb, but there were no flamboyant touches. The electronic gadgetry was state-of-the-art, but other than that the fittings had a spartan touch. Sam Rourke was not all he appeared on the surface.

  He looked comically alarmed when Lindy offered to prepare lunch in the small galley.

  ‘Don’t worry,’ she responded, not rising to the bait. ‘The most ambitious thing I intend doing is slicing bread and tossing a salad. We can’t all be culinary geniuses.’

  ‘Your talents lie in quite different directions, Doctor,’ he leered. Lindy yelped as the hand aimed at her behind made contact.

  ‘You’re disgusting,’ she scolded, a smile on her lips as she disappeared below deck.

  ‘You wouldn’t have me any other way.’ The chuckled retort followed her descent.

  She hummed as she worked in the small galley. The last three weeks had been the most exhilarating she could ever remember. Despite being plagued by doubts and subject to wild mood swings which were alien to her nature, she wouldn’t have altered the series of events which had made her this man’s lover.

  Half an hour later, laden with a tray, Lindy made her way up onto the deck. Sam took the tray from her hands. ‘I’m impressed,’ he said.

  ‘You’re supposed to be.’

  In a companionable silence they ate the cold meats, salad and crusty fresh bread.

  ‘More?’ Sam held up the half-empty bottle of Chardonnay.

  ‘I’d better not—too much sea air and wine and I’ll be asleep.

  ‘Do you always sail alone?’ she asked, flopping back on the plaid rug and shading her eyes against the sun.

  ‘Not today.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  ‘Usually. I enjoy the illusion of freedom. I decide where I go and when. The only responsibility I have is staying alive. The elements have a way of putting life in perspective.’

  She rolled on her stomach and cradled her chin in her hands. ‘What happened to Sam Rourke international superstar, with his fancy cars, glitzy clubs and glitzier girlfriends?’

  ‘I hope the public are a little more open-minded when I slip out of character than you are.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that,’ she hastily shot back. She levered herself to her knees and placed her palms on his thighs, just above where the frayed edges of his cut-off denims exposed his hair-roughened flesh. ‘I just find it difficult to reconcile the Sam Rourke I know with the one in the glossy magazines. I wake up at night and wonder what on earth Sam Rourke sees in me. I like this Sam,’ she admitted huskily. ‘I like him a lot.’

  There was a silence. Lindy chewed her lip; she wished she could see his face, but the sun was in her eyes. Her heart was thudding with trepidation. Their relationship had been warm and loving. They laughed a lot and made love even more, but Lindy was well aware that this was a thing that existed in the present—it had no foundation and no future.

  Though it gave her pain, Lindy accepted this because she loved him. She ought to have censored the comments that had come straight from the heart before they’d reached her mouth. Would he withdraw from her, back off?

  ‘Sometimes I wonder. You seem so detached at times…’ The breath was crushed from her ribs as he hauled her up across his lap. His expression behind the rakish grin held a strong element of triumph. Lindy’s arms curled around his neck and for the first time she allowed herself to hope the unthinkable! Perhaps they did have some sort of future together?

  ‘You know me, I don’t gush.’ The quirk of his lips showed that he too recalled the comment she’d made the day they met.

  ‘How could I forget?’ The smile faded from his eyes as he brushed back the strands of hair from her face. ‘I don’t really know you at all, do I? Though what I do know I like.’

  He could charm snowflakes from a blue sky, she knew that, but with her he didn’t try to. He wasn’t trying to crowd or rush her with sweet words. He was letting her set her own pace. Lindy recognised his wariness for what it was because she too felt the same way. ‘I could say the same.’ The past was suddenly a great gulf between them. Could she ever share her past with anyone, even Sam?

  ‘I’ve missed you this last week—since I moved back on board Jennifer,’ he said.

  Lindy’s smile was redolent of satisfaction. ‘I hardly noticed you were gone,’ she lied. Amazingly, Hope hadn’t made any comment when Sam’s stay at the cottage had extended beyond the original few days.

&nb
sp; ‘Liar,’ he breathed softly. The kiss beside her mouth was a sweet-scented whisper. ‘Ned seems quite taken with you.’

  ‘Ned?’

  ‘Nice guy, writer, good-looking if you discount the moustache he’s trying to grow. Have a heart, Rosalind; the guy follows you with his eyes like a faithful spaniel.’

  ‘Of course I know who Ned is.’

  ‘He asked me if I thought he stood a chance with you.’

  ‘He did what?’ She’d found him friendly and helpful, but it hadn’t occurred to her for one minute that he imagined…

  ‘Do I have to spell it out? He’s lusting after you.’

  ‘What did you say? Did you tell him…?’ she began in alarm. She hoped she hadn’t been giving off any false signals.

  A spasm of anger twisted his features. Though why he should be annoyed because she didn’t want to advertise their relationship she couldn’t imagine. He was the one who took care not to broadcast the situation. In her darker moments she imagined it was because she wasn’t the sort of female who was good for his image. She was always ashamed of these persistent thoughts, because she knew that Sam wasn’t either vain or superficial.

  ‘What do you think I said?’ he bit back. ‘You don’t stand a chance because the lady is sleeping in my bed. At least she would be if I had my way.’

  ‘You’re the one who thought things were going fast.’ He made it sound as though this was a bone of contention between them, she thought indignantly.

  ‘I didn’t say I didn’t like it that way,’ he pointed out pedantically.

  She gave a small grunt of irritation. ‘What did you say to poor Ned?’ she persisted.

  ‘‘‘Poor’’ Ned,’ he repeated, shaking his head. ‘A man dreads that prefix,’ he intoned solemnly. ‘It’s so maternal. Roughly translated, it says, You don’t stand a chance, you poor slob.’

  ‘I’ll sit on you if you don’t answer me!’ she threatened.

  ‘Promises, promises. OK, OK,’ he conceded, shielding his head from her fists with his brown forearms. ‘I was gentle and tactful.’

  ‘That would have been a first.’

  ‘But I wasn’t encouraging.’

  Something in his expression made her do a double-take. ‘Were you jealous?’ she asked incredulously.

  Sam shrugged, but didn’t deny it, much to Lindy’s secret delight. ‘For all I knew you might be secretly lusting after him. A man doesn’t like to hear from another guy how gorgeous the woman he’s sleeping with is. How great her legs are, or how kind she is to children and animals. I think I showed great restraint, but I made it clear you were heavily involved with another.’

  ‘You deserve a badge. Did you say ‘‘heavily’’?’

  ‘‘‘Heavily’’ is what I said,’ he confirmed. ‘And a badge is not what I deserve,’ he growled.

  The musky masculine odour of his body made her toes curl and wrenched a deep, shuddering sigh from her lips. ‘Don’t you need to steer or anything?’ she gasped as his fingers slid under the cropped top she was wearing.

  ‘I’ve been thinking about this all week,’ he groaned. The dark, sultry look in his eyes as he rolled her onto her back and came to rest on top of her made Lindy’s stomach do several backward flips.

  ‘Then why did you invite Hope along?’ She couldn’t prevent the pique from entering her voice.

  ‘My dear, darling Rosalind.’ Laughing, he stripped the thin top from her unresisting body. ‘I was going through polite motions. Hope wouldn’t have been indiscreet enough to say yes.’

  ‘You think she knows?’ Rosalind tried to get up but a large hand on her ribcage prevented her.

  ‘Hasn’t she warned you about my reputation?’

  ‘In a roundabout manner,’ Lindy recalled with a frown. ‘She hasn’t been around much and I thought we were being very discreet…’ Her voice trailed off as he laughed again. ‘I’m only thinking of you,’ she complained. ‘You obviously want to keep this a secret.’

  ‘I don’t care if the world knows how I feel about you.’

  ‘You don’t?’ I wish he’d share it with me, she thought, seething with frustration. His expression was impossible to interpret and it would be a fatal error to read what she wanted to hear into his words.

  ‘Enough said on the subject.’

  Not nearly enough for her.

  He seemed to read the bafflement in her face. ‘I don’t volunteer personal material for public consumption. You have to draw a line somewhere or they’d eat you up alive,’ he elaborated. ‘Worse still, I might start to believe all the publicity hype. I’ve known people who do and, believe me, it’s a pathetic sight. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not precious enough to bad-mouth the media—they’ve got their job to do, and I often reap the benefits. I play the game, but they’re my rules. Photo opportunities are one thing, but you won’t find one of me on this deck.

  ‘The studio can leak as many fictional stories as they like about me and my latest leading lady. I’ll even pose for the photos—but they won’t get a picture of me with you. I’ll do the rounds and publicise this film, but at the end of the day what I do, and with whom, is my business.’ The sobriety of his expression was broken by a sudden wicked grin. ‘At least we don’t have to worry about tele-photo lenses out here.’

  ‘There’s probably a satellite somewhere up there.’ She dreamily sketched a wide arc above her head. ‘Someone, somewhere is watching us.’ She tried to match his casual humour, but the ferocity of his provocative stare as it roamed over her half-clad figure was too distracting to resist. Her skin tingled with anticipation of his masterly touch.

  ‘Let them look! I don’t need any help to remember exactly how you look now in the sunlight. I’m making a complete mental inventory so I can compare it to how you’ll look later, when I make love to you under the moon.’

  ‘You’re planning on doing that?’ She reached up and grasped his firm buttocks in her hands. She had no intention of playing hard to get, not when the erotic promise in his voice had her shaking with feverish desire.

  ‘A lot depends on your co-operation,’ he admitted huskily.

  ‘I might be persuaded…’ Her words were lost in the warm recesses of his mouth.

  It wasn’t as warm now and Lindy had retreated to the cabin to pull on a cotton sweater over her shirt. She’d spent the last hour in the cockpit and her head was spinning with nautical terms. Sam had assured her that the technology took all the hard work out of navigation, but she had other thoughts on the subject.

  When she returned to the cockpit Lindy could tell immediately from his expression that something was wrong. The smile faded from her face.

  ‘I’ve been talking to the coastguard. The storm front they were expecting tomorrow night is ahead of schedule.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ She tried to hide the disappointment that bit deep.

  ‘It means I have to take you ashore tonight. I’ll take her south of the point before it gets too rough to chance navigating the bar. She’ll be sheltered from the worst of it there.’

  ‘Do we have to?’ Lindy could hardly believe the faint tremor in her voice. From Sam’s sharp look he had heard it too. God, don’t go all clinging and pathetic on him, Lindy, girl, she told herself. ‘Would you if you were alone?’ she asked in a more self-possessed tone.

  ‘I’m not alone; I’ve got a priceless cargo to consider.’

  It took her a few seconds to realise what he meant. A flush of pleasure washed over her skin. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve spoilt it for you.’ The way he was looking at her made her feel precious and cherished. The experience was novel and strangely satisfying. Men didn’t, as a rule, feel the need to cherish Lindy. She appeared far too capable and cool to incite such chivalrous responses.

  Sam took her chin in his fingers. ‘You haven’t spoilt anything for me.’ His stare was deeply compelling. ‘Sure, I’m disappointed, but there will be plenty of other times.’

  There would! She could feel herself glowing with pleasure.
Any smugger and I’ll start purring, she thought, startled by the strength of her own response. ‘Won’t a landlubber like me cramp your style?’

  ‘I was a landlubber once myself.’

  ‘You were?’ She was genuinely shocked; the sea seemed very much his natural environment. She’d assumed he’d inherited the knowledge—he seemed to belong. His lithe body moved over the heaving boat in a sure-footed and natural manner which she envied and loved to watch.

  ‘Sure. I hail from land-locked Ohio. I’m a farm boy. I first stepped on a boat when I was nineteen. I got work on the coast, in the docks. One day they were doing a photo shoot on a yacht in the bay. A group of us stayed after work to watch, heckle a bit and watch the babes.’ His ironic, self-deprecating grin flashed out. ‘The guy who was meant to be modelling kept turning green every time they cast off. For some reason the woman who was in charge of the shoot grabbed me and I thought, What the hell? I already had my shirt off, and it couldn’t be that hard to smile at a camera! Please don’t tell Hope I said that or she’ll have my hide. I was only nineteen, with all the arrogance of youth.’

  ‘Some things never change.’ Lindy could almost visualise the bold-eyed, bronzed, bare-chested youth he had been. Sam might wonder why the woman had selected him, but she didn’t!

  Sam just grinned in response. ‘I ended up on the inside spread of some glossy and I got my first taste of a deck under my feet. The photos led to a part in a TV show, and the rest, as they say, is history. I bought Jennifer with the proceeds of my first film.’ His eyes rose towards her masts.

  These confidences gave Lindy food for thought. She had assumed that Sam had a privileged background, but this information made it very clear that wasn’t the case. She hoped she was reading the signals right and he really was as serious as she was, because the more he let her see of the real Sam Rourke, the deeper she was falling! The old Rosalind would have cut her losses and run to save herself from possible heartache. The new Rosalind was going to see it through to the bitter end, no matter what the outcome!

 

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