Lindsay Armstrong: From Waif To His Wife

She closed her eyes. ‘I believed him. So, then, it did happen. I’ll never know if it was the wine we had-I don’t usually drink-but,’ she looked down at her hands, ‘I also believed him when he said he’d take charge of things.’

‘Contraception?’

She nodded.

‘He didn’t,’ he said flatly, ‘and if all this is to be believed, he skedaddled. So it only happened once? Although I presume it rang bells and blew trumpets for you?’

‘It didn’t, actually.’ She looked self-conscious. ‘I mean, it was fine, but…’ She trailed off, looking embarrassed.

‘The earth didn’t move for you?’ he suggested.

‘Well, no, but I was a virgin and I thought it was just going to take time. And he was-well, he was nice about it and reassuring and I felt wanted, I felt loved…’ She trailed off and gestured.

Bastard, Rafe caught himself thinking. If any of this is to be believed. ‘So-only once?’ he queried sceptically.

She nodded again, but if he’d known her better he would have intercepted the little glint in her green eyes, and interpreted it correctly.

‘And that’s when you started to search for Rafael Sanderson?’

‘That’s when it occurred to me I had no means of getting in touch with him; he’d always been the one to make contact. That’s when I started to worry, not only on my account. I wondered if he’d had an accident-I was terribly concerned and confused, so-’ she shrugged ‘-but the only Rafael Sanderson, in Australia anyway, that I came up with turned out to be the CEO of Sanderson Minerals and heir to the Dixon fortune! Then I found out I was pregnant.’

He scanned her figure. ‘You don’t look it. Listen, this is all very touching-’

But Maisie slammed her fists on the table and shot up from her seat.

‘Don’t think,’ she spat at him, ‘I haven’t reflected on my stupidity, at great and bitter length, in fact. Don’t think that the real irony is I was the last girl I thought this could happen to, and it’s shocked me to my boots to discover I was as vulnerable as many other girls who find themselves in this position. But don’t think I intend to take it lying down, either.’

She paused and flinched at her choice of words as he raised an eyebrow drily, then she soldiered on. ‘So you may look at me as cynically as you like, whoever you are, but I intend to find this man and give him a piece of my mind if nothing else!’

‘Sit down, Mairead-’

‘Maisie,’ she shot back.

‘I thought you said-’

‘I did, but I’m mostly called Maisie and, if you must know, I’ve become a bit allergic to Mairead because I suspect she led Rafe into believing I’m more-worldly than I am. Make that was !’

‘He wasn’t Rafe, I am,’ he pointed out with a sudden look of amusement. ‘I’m afraid you’ve got your men well and truly mixed up and I’m not sure it’s quite unintentionally, Mair-pardon me, Maisie, so-’

‘Well, I’m afraid to say I can’t stand your superior, mocking company a moment longer,’ she interrupted vigorously, with unconscious hauteur stamped into every line of her body.

And she climbed onto the gunnel and dived neatly overboard.

IT WASN’Tquite as unplanned or as insane as it looked.

In the moments before she did it, it flashed through her mind that the tide was going out, it wasn’t any great swim to the shallows and reefs around Peel, which were starting to be exposed anyway, and she was a good swimmer.

And once she got to the island she could walk to Lazaret’s Gutter, where she could see boats anchored, and get some help.

Two things worked against her. The shock of the cold water and the fact that the tide was running more swiftly than she’d anticipated.

Nor did she anticipate the speed with which Rafe Sanderson would get the Mary-Lue’s inflatable dinghy down into the water off its davits.

As she struggled against the tide, though, it was with a sense of gratitude that she saw the dinghy streaking towards her.

But once again it was a murderously angry man who man-handled her into the dinghy then onto the Mary-Lue .

‘Don’t you ever do that again, you idiot!’ he stormed at her, gripping the lapels of her tracksuit top in his fists as they stood in the cockpit, lifting her on to her tiptoes.

It was only natural that some of Maisie’s fire would be quenched. She was dripping, she was freezing, she was feeling slightly foolish.

But enough of a spark remained, fanned by her feeling of extreme ill-use, for her to retort, albeit through chattering teeth, ‘I’d have m-made it if it hadn’t b-been for the tide.’ She paused then yelled at the top of her voice, ‘And you have done nothing but insult me!’

Furious grey eyes looked into furious green ones, then Rafe Sanderson relaxed suddenly, and drawled, ‘So. A real firebrand? My apologies, Maisie.’ He released her lapels and she sank back onto her heels. ‘Anyway, perhaps this will make amends.’

He pulled her into his arms.

How it should affect her so drastically considering she was half drowned, not to mention furious with him, Maisie had no idea. But she had the strangest feeling that anything was possible between her and Rafe Sanderson at that moment.

It was as if such a level of tension in her had to expose her to the other side of the coin, or as if you could only be that angry with a man over how he viewed you because you wanted to be viewed differently…

But these jumbled thoughts were no protection against the way she felt as his arms closed round her.

Her confusion, tension and anger seemed to evaporate slowly. She found herself feeling safe and not so much like a piece of flotsam tossed without warning on the stormy seas of life. Not to mention the swift-running, freezing water she’d cast herself into.

Then he bent his head to kiss her and his lips were warm and dry and new sensations stirred in her. Sensations that shocked her to her core. How could she enjoy a man’s hands on her, his mouth on hers, how could she feel all stirred up in that particularly delicious way when it had led her into such a terrible trap only months ago?

He kissed her briefly, not even parting her lips, then lifted his head and stared into her green eyes, so wide and so shocked but at variance with the unresisting way she stood in the circle of his arms.

And something she couldn’t read flickered in his expression before he let her go. Then he immediately started to undress her.

Maisie came back to earth with a thud.

‘No,’ she gasped, ‘no!’ And attempted to stop him.

‘Listen,’ he commanded, ‘the only reason I’m doing this is because there’s no point in you dripping all over the saloon carpet-I have no designs on you!’

‘But you’ve just k-kissed me,’ she objected.

‘That was something else.’

‘How could it be? I mean-I mean, how do I know I won’t end up discarded and pregnant again?’

He paused and looked into her eyes, very green but supremely confused and wary, and a faint smile touched his lips. ‘I don’t think you can be pregnant twice at the same time.’

She bit her lip in frustration. ‘You know what I mean.’

He shrugged. ‘It was to make up for insulting you and being all superior and cynical. It was a salute for being told to go to hell in a rather foolhardy, but nevertheless decisive manner I couldn’t help admiring. That’s all.’

Maisie stared at him, uncharacteristically speechless, and he took the opportunity to strip off her top and push her trousers down then he sat her down so he could take off her shoes.

‘Besides which,’ he added, ‘I have seen it all before.’