Sinful Nights(68)

She went white and stepped back from him, her eyes huge with pain. It  was a natural enough question and he couldn't know how she felt about  the man who had fathered Lucy, nor could she tell him. She couldn't tell  anyone.

I  … '

Forget it, I shouldn't have asked. I take it there's no chance of the two of you getting back together.'

He had obviously completely misread her reaction, and like someone in a dream Claire said thickly, I  …  he's dead  … '

Oh, I see. I'm sorry.'

It  …  it was a long time ago. Before  …  before Lucy was born.' She was  lying. She had no idea whether Lucy's father was alive or dead, or where  he was. Or even who he was, a small voice reminded her, but she  shuddered with the onset of familiar pain and loathing, forcing her mind  to shift from the past to the present, before her memories could  overwhelm her. About Heather?' she added.

If she can stay with you for the time being I'd be more than grateful.  I'm going to have to get someone to replace Mrs Roberts, of course.'

There's no need to rush. I'm very fond of Heather.'

Yes, I can see that.'

There's something about her that reaches out to me. A need that Lucy  doesn't have, a loneliness.' Claire broke off, suddenly conscious of  what she was saying.

Yes, she is lonely,' he agreed bitterly. Susie was never much of a  mother to her. She never wanted her at all  … ' He too broke off, and  Claire sensed that his marriage and his daughter were normally two  subjects that he did not discuss with anyone.

It seemed that a strange bond had been formed between them, a bond that  at the moment was very tenuous and fragile, and which instinctively  Claire feared. She knew that sexually she had nothing to fear from him. A  man like Jay Fraser did not need to force himself on a woman.

She watched him as he got up, aware of the way his shirt clung to his  shoulder and tapered down to his waist. He was a very masculine man, and  the knowledge made her shiver with distaste as she instinctively  averted her eyes from his equally masculine stance.

While Heather is living with you, you must let me make some contribution to your household budget,' he said.    

 



 

No.' Her refusal was immediate and firm. No, I can't let you do that.'

He frowned and Claire knew that he was a man who did not like to be beholden to others in any way at all.

If you won't accept money from me, I'll have to find a way of repaying  you in kind,' he said at last. He glanced at his watch. I'd better go;  I'm expecting a call from the States. I'll come round and see Heather  tomorrow, if I may?'

Claire saw him to the door, watching as he slid his lean length behind  the wheel of his car-a long, low-slung Jaguar sports car. He gave her a  brief nod as he fastened his seat belt, and she went inside and closed  the door. She was tired now and very drained, but too on edge to sleep.  If anything had happened to Heather  …  It was almost as though the little  girl was her own child. She mustn't get too attached to her or, more  importantly, allow Heather to get too attached to her. No, she must  gradually reassure her that her father both loved and wanted her; she  must instill in her enough self-confidence for her to go back to her  father happily and gladly.

When Jay called the following day, she deliberately left father and  daughter alone together, but it was Lucy who chatted away to him,  demanding that he play, while Heather clung anxiously to her side.

I was going to suggest that if you could let me know when you're likely  to be home I could arrange to bring Heather back to you for those  weekends?'

You think you can manage that, do you?' he asked sardonically, It  seems to me that I'm featuring very much as the cruel father at the  moment.'

Only because of what Mrs Roberts has been feeding her. She's been using  you as a threat to frighten her. She'll get over it. She does love you,  Jay.'

It was the first time she had used his name directly, and she wondered  what had caused his eyes to change form light to dark grey like that.

I'll ring you from the States before I come back.'

It was Lucy who ran up to him for a goodbye kiss, and Heather who had to  be gently pushed. Claire's tender heart ached for him, for, despite his  controlled smile, she knew that inside he was hurt.

TWO MONTHS SLIPPED BY without Jay being able to find a suitable  replacement for Mrs Roberts, and during that time Heather blossomed. She  was always going to be a more vulnerable child than her own daughter,  Claire thought, but now she looked forward to her father's return,  running to him eagerly, and Claire hoped that she had banished the  spectre of Mrs Roberts' threats.

October was a cold, wet month with high winds that disturbed the shaky  tiles on her roof. Several came crashing down one night as she lay in  bed, and she wondered how on earth she was going to pay for them to be  replaced.

Jay was due home on Friday. She must remember to go up to Whitegates and  turn on the central heating; he had given her a key to the house  several weeks ago, but she was scrupulous about using it only when she  had to. She had fallen into the habit of checking on the contents of his  fridge when she knew he was due back, but she had never ventured  further than the kitchen when he was not there, nor did she linger when  she delivered Heather to him, despite his suggestions that she and Lucy  stay and have a meal.

He didn't make her feel nervous as other men did; she wasn't frightened  of him, and she didn't know really why she was so anxious to remove  herself from his vicinity. Perhaps it had something to do with their  very first meeting and her determination that he would never be able to  accuse her of running after him. It was, after all, the last thing she  was likely to do! Her mind might be able to accept that he was a very  attractive and masculine man, a man with an uncommon degree of sex  appeal combined with that aura of power that women find so sexually  stimulating, but she wasn't like other women; his sexuality made her  cringe. She found conversation with him stimulating and interesting, but  only if she could manage to blot out his masculinity. She was glad that  he wasn't the sort of man who liked to touch. She didn't think she  could have endured that.

Mrs Vickers was opening her gate just as Claire went past with the girls on the way to school.

Gales forecast for tonight' she warned Claire. Hope our roofs will stand up to it.'

Claire did too. When she got back from school she saw that the row of  elms on the opposite side of the road were swaying fiercely in the  strong wind. All the leaves were gone now, and the branches looked  starkly bleak. Winter would be early this year.

She spent the morning baking, more for the therapeutic properties of the  task than for any real need to provide the girls and herself with  sustenance. When she collected them from school, they went first back to  the cottage, where Heather sniffed the warm scented kitchen aroma  eagerly.    

 



 

Have you made an apple pie?' she asked Claire, surveying the fruits of the afternoon's labours enthusiastically.

She had, using the apples from their own tree.

It's Daddy's favourite. Perhaps we could take him some.?'

On the face of it there was no real reason why they should not; Claire  always made something extra when she baked which she normally took round  to Mrs Vickers; the three of them on their own would certainly not get  through everything she had made-but even so, she hesitated, knowing all  too well the construction that Jay could place on her gift of food.  However, she knew equally that it was not something she could explain to  his six-year-old daughter.

Hating to wipe the happy look of pleasure from Heather's face, she suggested instead,

Perhaps next time. I made this one for Mrs Vickers. It's her favourite  too,' childishly she crossed her fingers behind her back as she mouthed  the small fib, and you can help me make it,' she told Heather. I'm  sure your daddy would like that.'

I'll help too,' Lucy chimed in. I could make him some of my gingerbread men.'

Claire stifled a grin at the thought of Jay's expression should he be  presented with these tokens of her daughter's regard. She knew enough  about him to know that he would eat the proffered gift whether he wanted  it or not, but as yet Lucy's enthusiasm for the task of baking far  outweighed her skill.

An hour later, both girls raincoated and wellingtoned against the heavy  rain that had started to fall, they set out for Whitegates.

As Claire opened the front door, the wind shipped it from her fingers,  shrieking malevolently and making her gasp for breath. Both little girls  clung firmly to her hands as they hurried down the deserted village  street. Luckily the wind was behind them, otherwise Claire wasn't sure  how they would have managed to walk. It had increased tremendously in  velocity since she had fetched them home from school, and the heavy,  rain-sodden clouds darkening the sky promised a very unpleasant night.  Already there was evidence of the storm's hovoc in the branches that had  fallen from some of the trees, reminding Claire that she would have to  find someone to prune her own fruit trees.