Shadowed Stranger

by Carole Mortimer

  His harsh features relaxed into a smile. ‘I must be psychic.’ He took her elbow, leading her away from the market and into a back street where he had parked the Jaguar.

  She settled comfortably into the luxury of her leather seat, feeling rather like a cat who had been given a saucer of cream. The delivery van and car her father could run to were nowhere near the class of this car; its interior was even more impressive than its exterior.

  ‘There’s a park not far from here,’ she told Rick as he climbed in beside her.

  ‘The food is for eating, not feeding to the ducks.’ He drove smoothly and without effort, as much in control of this powerful vehicle as he appeared to be of everything else.

  Robyn felt good just to be sitting next to him, shooting him shy glances from beneath lowered lashes. There was an air of distinction about him even in the casual clothes he always wore, a stamp of authority, an aura of power and the knowledge of knowing what to do with that power.

  ‘I’m only on a light diet,’ he drawled suddenly. ‘I don’t intend eating you.’ He gave her a mocking glance. ‘So you can stop looking at me so apprehensively.’

  ‘I wasn’t—’

  ‘Oh yes, you were,’ Rick insisted grimly. ‘And maybe I’ve given you reason to feel that way. Last night—’

  ‘I’d rather not talk about it,’ she told him stiffly; the way he had rejected her was still painful to think about.

  His hand moved to rest momentarily on her knee, burning her skin through the thin material of her skirt. ‘We have to talk about it.’ His hand returned to the steering-wheel.

  ‘Why do we?’ Robyn sighed. ‘Nothing happened.’

  ‘I kissed you!’

  ‘So?’ She looked at him challengingly. ‘I’ve been kissed before.’

  ‘Have you?’ he taunted.

  ‘Yes!’ Her eyes flashed. ‘I may not be as experienced as you—’

  His harsh laugh cut her off. ‘No, you aren’t,’ he scorned.

  ‘It’s nothing to boast about,’ she snapped indignantly.

  Rick drew the car to a halt in the car space near the park, turning in his seat to look at her. ‘I’m not boasting, Robyn, merely being practical.’

  ‘Practical!’ she repeated disgustedly.

  ‘Yes, practical.’ He wrenched her chin round, forcing her to look at him. ‘What do you want with an old man like me?’ he rasped.

  ‘Old—!’ Her mouth twitched with humour, and she finally burst out laughing. ‘Now you’re being ridiculous,’ she chuckled.

  Rick gave a rueful smile. ‘Maybe I am. But the first dirty-old-man look I get and I’m bringing you straight back to the car.’

  She was just relieved to be spending this time with him, her hand in his as they walked through the park to the pond.

  ‘What were you doing at the library this morning?’ she asked interestedly.

  ‘Looking for a book.’ He shrugged. ‘They didn’t have it.’ He gave her a reproving look as she fed half her roll to the waiting ducks.

  ‘I’ll eat all my cake,’ she promised.

  ‘Here you are, then,’ and he handed her one of the two fresh cream doughnuts.

  She frowned her disappointment. ‘You said it was a chocolate éclair,’ she pouted.

  Rick grinned. ‘No, I didn’t, I just said I was psychic.’

  ‘You cheated!’

  He quirked one eyebrow. ‘So?’

  ‘So—nothing,’ she smiled at him, obediently eating the cake. ‘I like doughnuts too.’

  ‘I thought you might,’ he said dryly, flicking cream off the end of her nose.

  Robyn blushed as an elderly couple walked by, their expressions ones of smiling indulgence.

  ‘They probably think I’m your father,’ Rick muttered.

  She looked at him challengingly. ‘Then prove that you aren’t.’

  ‘Prove—?’ He frowned, eyeing her suspiciously.

  ‘Are you asking me to kiss you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she answered calmly, surprised at her own audacity.

  ‘You cheeky little devil!’

  ‘Well?’

  ‘Okay,’ he shrugged. ‘Whatever you want.’

  This time she was prepared for his lips on hers, and opened her mouth to accept his full passion, her arms up about his neck, her hands in the dark thickness of his hair. He was gentler with her today, although no less demanding, his arms like steel bands as he strained her closer to him.

  He moved back, his eyes a warm caressing grey. ‘Was that satisfactory, madam?’ he taunted mockingly.

  She was shaken by that kiss, physically moved, but she knew Rick was striving for lightness, so her mood matched his own. ‘It could have been better,’ she told him casually.

  ‘Not in a public park, surely?’ he drawled.

  She pretended to give it some thought, although her lips still tingled from their contact with his. ‘Possibly not,’ she agreed.

  Rick stood up, pulling her to her feet too, and moved to the litter-bin to dispose of the debris from their meal. ‘Definitely not,’ he turned to say firmly. ‘And don’t ask again, young lady, I find it difficult to say no to you.’

  She gave him an innocent look. ‘I was only trying to show that elderly couple that you aren’t my father, uncle, or older brother.’

  ‘I think you more than did that.’ He scowled. ‘You have yet to tell me what that charade at the library was all about,’ he reminded her darkly.

  ‘Ah,’ she blushed guiltily, biting her lip. ‘Do we have to talk about that?’

  ‘I think so,’ Rick insisted firmly. ‘After all, that is the reason I’m here.’

  ‘The only reason?’

  ‘Well, I doubt you would have invited me out to lunch otherwise,’ he said dryly. ‘So tell me.’

  She began reluctantly, finishing in a rush as she saw his face darken ominously. It wasn’t something that put her in a very good light, and she knew he had a right to be angry with her.

  ‘Why me?’ he demanded harshly.

  Robyn bit her lip. ‘I didn’t know anyone else.’

  He frowned. ‘In other words I was convenient. Someone who actually did exist if your friend Selma bothered to make enquiries, someone new to the area and so unlikely to be questioned myself about dating you.’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted miserably.

  His eyes were narrowed. ‘Why?’

  She frowned her puzzlement. ‘I just told you—’

  ‘Not that,’ Rick dismissed impatiently. ‘Why don’t you have a boy-friend?’

  She shrugged. ‘I just don’t.’

  ‘Have you ever?’

  ‘Of course I—No,’ she corrected softly. ‘Not really.’ ‘Why not?’

  She flushed her resentment. ‘I just haven’t! It isn’t a crime, is it?’ she flashed angrily.

  ‘That depends.’ He pursed his mouth thoughtfully.

  ‘Depends?’ she echoed sharply.

  ‘On the reason for it.’ His gaze ran slowly over her youthful curves. ‘Are you frightened of a man’s possession?’

  Her eyes widened at the intimacy of such a question. Admittedly she had become closer to Rick during the last hour, was starting to like him more than could be good for her, but she would never have dreamt of asking him such a personal question. Not that it would ever be necessary—this man feared nothing, certainly not physical relationships.

  ‘Are you?’ he repeated coldly.

  That was it, the question was asked coldly, clinically, as if it interested him in an impersonal way. ‘No!’ Robyn snapped. ‘If you must know, sex bores me.’ She looked at him challengingly.

  ‘Really?’ he asked dryly. ‘And how do you know that when you’ve never tried it?’

  ‘I didn’t say that!’ She turned on her heel and began walking back to the car.

  Her disappointment was acute when Rick made no effort to catch up with her, but followed at a more leisurely pace, arriving at the car several minutes after her, still in no hurry as he unlocked
the car doors.

  ‘I have to get back to work,’ she told him waspishly.

  ‘You still have ten minutes,’ he informed her calmly. ‘Plenty of time to get you back.’

  She kept shooting him resentful glances as the Jaguar ate up the distance back to the library. Why didn’t he say something, question her about that last comment she had made before walking off? Probably because it didn’t really interest him. Oh dear, she had bored him now! Why couldn’t she learn to keep her mouth shut?

  ‘One good turn deserves another,’ he said suddenly. ‘How about cooking my dinner this evening?’ He quirked one eyebrow enquiringly.

  She was so relieved that he wanted to see her again that refusing didn’t even enter her head. She had been feeling miserable and now she felt elated. ‘I’d love to,’ she agreed shakily, wishing she didn’t sound quite so eager but unable to stop herself. ‘Although I—I can’t actually cook,’ she revealed reluctantly.

  Humour lightened his harsh features. ‘You mean your mother hasn’t passed on any of her talent?’

  ‘None at all, I’m afraid,’ she told him with a grimace.

  ‘Then we’ll pick up some Chinese from the takeaway in Ampthull. Do you like Chinese?’

  She would like raw whalemeat if it meant she could be with him! ‘I love it!’ Although that was a slight exaggeration she had enjoyed it on the one occasion she had tried sweet and sour chicken from this same restaurant.

  Rick nodded. ‘Shall I call for you or will you walk down?’

  ‘I’ll walk down,’ she told him hastily. On the few occasions when a boy had called for her at her home her father had asked him such personal questions that she wasn’t surprised when she was brought home as early as possible and no mention of a further date was forthcoming. Goodness, they had only wanted to take her out for a drink or to the cinema, they weren’t there to ask for her hand in marriage!

  Rick got out of the car to come round and open her door for her, bending down to kiss her lightly on the lips. ‘Just in case your friend happened to be watching,’ he drawled as she blushed fiery red.

  She looked down at her feet, cursing her gaucheness when she was with this worldly man. ‘I’ll see you about seven, then,’ she said huskily.

  ‘Seven it is,’ he agreed abruptly, making no further attempt to touch her but getting into his car and driving off.

  Robyn stood on the pavement for several moments after he had driven off. Somehow she had become deeply attracted to Rick Howarth, she who had never been particularly interested in any particular boy before. Boy! Rick was far from that, his confidence with women was as obvious as his dark good looks.

  ‘Hey, Robyn,’ Selma hissed in her ear. ‘It’s time to get back to work.’

  Robyn blushed as she realised how stupid she must look just standing here gazing into space, the Jaguar long since having disappeared. ‘I was deep in thought,’ she said awkwardly, walking beside the other girl as they entered the library.

  Selma giggled. ‘I could see that. Dazed would be a more apt description. I wish I’d met him first,’ she added wistfully.

  Perhaps Rick would too if he knew that Selma would have absolutely no qualms about entering into the intimate relationship he obviously craved. Besides, Selma was four years older than she was, and wouldn’t be considered the child he still thought her.

  ‘Well, you didn’t,’ she snapped resentfully. ‘And Rick happens to be my boy-friend.’ She was deeply ashamed of her behaviour as soon as the words had left her lips. ‘I’m sorry, Selma,’ she was instantly contrite. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude.’

  The other girl grinned goodnaturedly. ‘That’s okay. I wouldn’t welcome your interest either if he was mine.’

  ‘All the same—’

  ‘Miss Castle,’ a familiar authoritative voice interrupted them, ‘I wonder if I might have a word with you?’

  Although uttered in the form of a request Mr Leaven’s words were an order nonetheless, and both girls knew that. Selma hurried off, obviously feeling relieved to escape whatever reprimand was coming now.

  ‘Miss Castle,’ Mr Leaven repeated in an icy voice, ‘it has never been my practice to encourage—friends of the staff to call for them here. And I certainly do not condone that—display of affection that took place right outside the library doors.’

  Deep colour flooded her cheeks. ‘I—’

  ‘There can be no excuse for such a display in public,’ he rapped out. ‘See that it doesn’t happen again.’

  ‘I told you, he’s never been young,’ Selma remarked later when told of the incident.

  Robyn was aware of Mr Leaven’s disapproval all day, and was glad to get home that evening, although she felt very young and uncomfortable as she explained to her parents that she was having dinner with Rick.

  Her mother frowned. ‘You’re seeing rather a lot of him, dear.’

  She flushed. ‘Don’t you like him?’

  ‘It isn’t that—’

  ‘What your mother is trying to say,’ her father interrupted, ‘is that we find your transformation from tomboy to girlish infatuation for an older man rather too sudden for comfort.’

  ‘Peter!’

  He flushed angrily. ‘Well, I don’t like the man—’

  ‘You don’t know him, Peter. He’s always seemed very nice when he’s been in the shop.’

  ‘Well, of course he has,’ her husband dismissed. ‘They all do. But you can hardly get to know someone across a shop counter. I don’t think you should see him so much, Robyn.’

  She blushed. ‘This will only be the third time.’

  ‘In as many days,’ her father scowled. ‘The next thing I know you’ll be coming to me telling me you’re in trouble.’

  ‘Peter!’

  ‘Daddy …!’

  ‘All right, all right, I admit I may be going a bit far,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘But what do we know of the man? He turned up here three weeks ago to rent Orchard House, and—’

  ‘Rent it?’ Robyn asked sharply. ‘He’s only renting it?’

  Her father nodded. ‘So Mrs Reed told me, and she should know—she knows everything. Besides, he has all his mail sent here, says Orchard House is only a temporary address. You didn’t know that either, did you?’

  ‘No …’

  ‘You know nothing about the man at all!’

  Her head went high, her expression rebellious. ‘I know that I like him. And it isn’t girlish infatuation I feel for him, it isn’t anything—yet. But it could be—if well-meaning people like you would mind their own business!’ She turned and ran out of the house, brushing past Billy as he arrived home after his football practice.

  ‘Hey, watch where you’re going!’ he complained as she knocked his holdall out of his hand.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she choked, bending down to pick up the bag, tears glistening on her cheeks as she raised her head.

  Billy frowned. ‘Hey, you’re crying!’

  ‘No, I’m not.’ She brushed the tears away with the back of her hand. ‘I’ll see you later.’ She gave him a tremulous smile before hurriedly leaving the house.

  Her father had never spoken that way to her before. And all because she wanted to see Rick!

  She didn’t even wait for Rick to answer the door once she arrived at Orchard House, bursting into the kitchen to find it empty. She could hear the sound of pounding typewriter keys, and remembering the one she had seen in Rick’s bedroom she ran up the stairs.

  ‘Rick! Rick?’ she called before throwing open the bedroom door and going inside. ‘Oh, Rick!’ she cried before launching herself into his arms as he stood up.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ he demanded roughly, his arms tightening about her.

  ‘Nothing now,’ she sobbed. ‘Just hold me!’ She buried herself against his chest, finding his shirt partly unbuttoned, her cheek against his hair-roughened skin.

  He took a firm hold of her arms, holding her away from him. ‘You have to tell me what’s wrong if you want me
to help you,’ he told her gruffly.

  ‘I don’t want help, I want—I want you to kiss me, Rick.’ She looked up at him with huge pleading blue eyes, her vulnerable mouth parted invitingly, her hands clinging to the broad width of his shoulders.

  He frowned darkly. ‘I have no intention of doing anything until I know what the hell is going on.’

  She sniffed inelegantly. ‘First Mr Leaven, my boss, told me not to meet you at the library, then my father—my father—He said—He implied—’

  ‘What?’ Rick rasped, his fingers biting painfully into her upper arms. ‘What did he say, Robyn?’

  There were two bright spots of colour in her cheeks. ‘Terrible things,’ she shuddered.

  Rick shook her, his mouth set impatiently. ‘Tell me!’

  ‘He said—he said—’ she hiccuped back the tears. ‘He wasn’t very nice about you, and he—he implied that you and I—that in a couple of months—’

  ‘That I could get you pregnant?’ he finished incredulously, the tension leaving him and humour starting to take over. ‘Is that what he said?’ Rick sounded really amused now.

  ‘Yes, he did!’ She was indignant at his reaction to something that had upset her very deeply. ‘And I didn’t find it in the least funny.’

  ‘Perhaps it wouldn’t be,’ he released her, ‘if it were even a possibility,’ he finished insultingly.

  Robyn stiffened. ‘Meaning it isn’t?’

  ‘Not in the least,’ he dismissed calmly. ‘I have no intention of going to bed with you.’

  ‘It may not be intended,’ she flashed.

  His mouth quirked with humour. ‘Meaning I may become so overwhelmed with desire for you that I won’t be able to stop myself?’

  ‘You could be!’ she snapped.

  Rick shook his head. ‘Never. I learnt how to control those sort of urges years ago. That sort of immaturity belongs to boys and besotted idiots—of which I am neither.’

  Robyn went very white. ‘You make it all sound so—so cold.’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘You mean you just—decide when you want to make love and—and do it? There’s no clamouring of the senses, no—no—’

  ‘Sudden urge to possess one particular woman?’ he finished dryly. ‘Not in my case, no. Oh, I enjoy sex as much as the next man, more than some, probably, but it doesn’t rule my life as it does some men’s, doesn’t control me.’