Jennifer Taylor - Rachel's Child

‘Th—there’s nothing we need to talk about! Now if you don’t mind...’

Rachel started to close the door, but she was no match for Stephen as he calmly pushed it open and stepped inside. He glanced round, dwarfing the small, shabby hall with his powerful frame. He was wearing a black cashmere coat over a dinner suit and the thick wool added to the impression of bulk, emphasised the solid width of his shoulders, the power of his body.

Rachel had a sudden vivid mental flash of Stephen as he had been all those years before—his lean frame dressed in jeans and shirt, his dark hair falling across his forehead—and then the picture faded as abruptly as it had come and there seemed to be little left of the boy in the elegant figure of the man. Yet when Stephen turned to look at her there was just something in the depths of his eyes which made her heart catch...

Rachel looked away, scared by the sudden rush of warmth along her veins. What she had felt once for this man was long gone. Love couldn’t survive such an absence. Oh, the memory of it was still there, a warm glow which lingered long after the fire had burned out. That summer had been both the best and the worst time in her life, but she was no longer the girl who had loved the young Stephen Hunter with such desperation!

‘You seem surprised to see me, Rachel.’

‘I am surprised! I thought we said everything that needed to be said before.’

‘Did you? How odd. I think there’s still a lot we need to talk about.’ He gave a soft laugh. ‘Even more than I imagined when I first came here today! I’ve been looking for you for a while now, Rachel, but it was only last night that I heard you’d come back to town.’

‘Looking for me...?’ Rachel’s heart seemed to jolt to a halt. ‘I don’t understand. Wh—why would you do that after all this time?’

Stephen smiled thinly. ‘Why indeed? Just a whim, I suppose. I’d reached a point in my life when it seemed time to make some changes. I decided to tie up a few loose ends, find the answers to all the questions which have puzzled me—although I must confess I wasn’t expecting to find out what I did!’

Rachel felt the ready colour run up her face. ‘I cannot see any point in...in raking over the past!’

‘Oh, but I can. So why don’t we go inside and sit down and chat about it like two old friends should?’

Her heart ached at the irony she heard in his voice. ‘Are we friends, though, Stephen? I think not.’

‘Once we were a lot more than just friends, Rachel, or so I believed. Can you blame me for wanting to find out how I could have made such a mistake?’ He gave a softly taunting laugh which curled through the air between them. ‘So, Rachel, what’s it to be? Can you spare a cup of coffee and a few minutes? Or do you think that is more than what we shared all those years ago warrants?’

Rachel felt the sting of that mocking reference to their past. She had grieved at the thought of spoiling the memory of what they had been to each other once, but obviously it meant little to Stephen now!

‘Why not? A cup of coffee seems the least I can offer after all this time. Go on through to the sitting room and make yourself comfortable. It won’t take long.’

Rachel held the brittle smile until Stephen had turned and walked along the hall. She closed her eyes on a wave of pain, wishing she had told him to leave rather than prolong the agony when there was so little point. Nothing could change what had happened in the past; nothing would alter what had happened today.

She and Stephen Hunter were so far apart now that it would be impossible to bridge the chasm between them!

Why had he come back?

Stephen glanced around the room, making no attempt to sit down. He was too tense to sit, too on edge to wait calmly for Rachel to come back with coffee he didn’t want to drink and she didn’t want to offer.

Impatiently he strode to the window, but there was little to be seen apart from the long terraces of houses—nothing to take his mind off the reason why he was here...

He swore roughly. Just a few short hours ago he had told himself that he could handle what Rachel had told him once he had taken steps to set his life back on course. Yet as he’d sat in the auditorium tonight, pretending to follow the opera, he had realised that it wasn’t that simple.

He had left his companion at her flat with some excuse he couldn’t even remember now and driven over here, ready to make Rachel tell him the whole sordid tale from start to finish before he put it out of his mind for good. Now God alone knew just how much he was regretting the impulse! How could he forget how Rachel had betrayed him?

Stephen prowled restlessly, picking up an ornament from the shelf in the alcove, putting it down to reach for another. He stopped, his attention caught by a photograph in a cheap cardboard frame. Almost of its own volition, his hand went out to pick it up while the memories flowed through him like bitter-sweet wine and the years fell away...

‘Who is she?’

Robert opened one eye and followed the direction of his cousin’s gaze then sank back onto the sand with a heavy sigh. ‘Venus, Aphrodite—the embodiment of perfect womanhood...’

‘Thanks!’ Stephen gave Robert a friendly punch on the shoulder, his eyes following the girl as she walked along the beach. He hadn’t seen her before, he was certain; he would have remembered if he had! It wasn’t just that silver-gilt hair which flowed down her back, or the purity of her profile, it was the way she moved so gracefully, so regally...

Stephen pushed himself up from the sand, his grey eyes full of determination which made his cousin groan. ‘Uh-oh! I hope she’s read her horoscope and knows that a tall, dark, handsome...’ Robert paused. ‘No, let’s not get too carried away—that a tall, dark stranger is going to cross her path today. I wouldn’t like her to get too much of a shock.’

Stephen ignored the teasing banter. He and Robert were more like brothers than cousins. They were almost the same age, with Stephen just six months the senior, and had been inseparable since childhood. The fact that their fathers were twins had probably forged a closer bond than normal, although he and Robert looked little alike apart from both having the same slate-grey eyes.

‘I won’t be long, but...’

‘But don’t wait if you’re not back by sundown.’

Robert waved him off, closing his eyes again as he sank back onto the warm sand. Stephen grinned, wondering how anyone could happily live his life at such a slow pace. At nineteen years of age Stephen was burning with ambition. Getting a job—any job—seemed the sum total of his friends’ aspirations, but Stephen wanted so much more that there wasn’t a limit on what he intended to achieve...

Purposefully he closed the gap between himself and the girl, his long, powerful legs eating up the distance. The day was hot and he’d stripped down to old denim cut-offs. His skin was darkly tanned from working outdoors and his body was lean, fit, the wide shoulders and narrow hips drawing appreciative looks from a group of girls he passed, but Stephen didn’t even glance their way. His eyes were centred on the slender, elegant back of the blonde up ahead.

In contrast to most people on the beach, who were wearing as little as was decent, she was covered from throat to ankle by a floating dress of pale cream cotton. The breeze caught the delicate fabric as she walked so that the skirt moulded to the shape of her long, slender legs, the bodice clinging to the high curve of her small breasts in a way which was far more provocative than any scanty bikini.

Stephen felt desire stir inside him, hot and vibrant. He quickened his pace until he came level with her. She glanced round then looked away, her face faintly flushed as she carried on walking just a shade faster, but Stephen had no difficulty in keeping up with her.