‘There’s nothing to thank me for.’
And she didn’t feel there was. If she hadn’t been there perhaps Heather might never have thought of running away. She hadn’t meant to encourage the little girl to love her, but how much damage had she inadvertently done?
CHAPTER THREE
BOTH GIRLS HAD had their supper and were bathed and pyjamaed when Jay Fraser came back. They were sharing Lucy’s room, but Claire took her own daughter downstairs so that Jay and Heather could be alone.
She had barely been downstairs with Lucy for more than ten minutes when Jay Fraser’s dark head suddenly appeared round her sitting-room door. He looked unexpectedly vulnerable for such a very hard-edged man, his mouth set in a grimly despondent line.
‘Can you come?’ he asked quietly. ‘Heather seems to have cast me in the role of angry parent; I can’t get it through to her that she isn’t going to be punished.’
Claire had always been acutely sensitive to the feelings of others and it was for that reason that she kept her attention fixed on a point to the left of his shoulder rather than on his face. She didn’t need a crystal ball to know that he was finding it very hard to ask for her help.
When she got upstairs Heather was curled up in a small ball, crying. The moment she saw Claire she flung herself into her arms, cuddling up against her. Over her dark head Claire looked at the grimly set face of her father. Strange to think that less than a month ago she had viewed a second meeting with this man with both apprehension and dread. Now she was seeing him stripped of his masculine arrogance, a human being with fears and doubts, and ridiculously she wanted to reassure him that everything would be all right, and that Heather would eventually come round.
Instead, she stroked her soft dark hair, and said quietly, ‘It’s all right, Heather, your daddy isn’t cross with you. He was very worried about you, we all were.’
‘Mrs Roberts said he would lock me in my bedroom without anything to eat.’
The harsh exclamation smothered in his throat drew Claire’s eyes back to Jay’s face. She wasn’t enjoying witnessing his suffering.
‘Mrs Roberts is gone now. Your daddy is going to find someone else to look after you … when you go home.’
‘I don’t want to go home!’ Although they were muffled against her breast Heather’s words were quite clear, her voice shrill with a mixture of fear and stubbornness. ‘I want to stay here with you. I want you to be my mummy.’
Claire didn’t dare look at the tense figure standing by the door. What on earth was he thinking?
Swallowing the lump in her throat she said huskily, ‘Heather, you know that I love you very much, but I’m not your mummy …’
‘But I want you to be.’ Tears weren’t very far away, and Claire gnawed tensely at her bottom lip. What on earth could she say?
The bedroom door opened and Lucy came in, frowning. ‘What are you doing up here?’ she demanded. Her question was directed at Claire, but she was looking at Jay with a mixture of assessment and fascination in her eyes. To Claire’s amazement she went up to him, tilting her head back so that she could look at him. For a little girl who had had virtually nothing to do with the male sex, she was amazingly at ease with him.
‘Can Heather stay here with me?’ She asked him. ‘My mummy could look after her, and we could play together …’
Across the room green eyes met grey. ‘Lucy, I think it’s time that you and Heather were both in bed.’
Claire had a suggestion to make, but she wasn’t going to say anything in front of the girls, just in case Jay Fraser rejected it. She wasn’t going to be accused of putting him in a position where he couldn’t do so.
She tucked Heather up in bed, and bent down to kiss her. Lucy climbed into the other single bed, and after she too had received her goodnight kiss she looked across at Jay and demanded, ‘Aren’t you going to kiss us too?’
Claire hid a small smile at the expression in his eyes, but he acceded to Lucy’s request easily enough, kissing her first and then Heather, who shrank away from him slightly.
Downstairs in the sitting-room she off
ered him coffee, but he shook his head.
‘More stimulation is the last thing I need right now. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be hard enough to get to sleep as it is, and in less than forty-eight hours I’ve got to fly back to the States. I’m more in need of a stiff whisky than caffeine.’
‘I’m sorry, I don’t have any.’ Claire apologised, but he shook his head again.
‘I couldn’t drink it anyway, I’m driving.’
She wished that he would sit down; he made her feel nervous standing over her like that. It gave her an unpleasant sensation in the pit of her stomach to be alone with him. She always felt like that with men, no matter how harmless they might be. As he moved restlessly she stepped back from him, biting her lip as she saw his frown.
‘I didn’t want to say anything when the girls could overhear us, but … if it would help I could have Heather until you find someone to take charge of her.’
Complete silence followed her offer, and Claire felt the colour crawling over her skin. Surely he didn’t still think she had an ulterior motive for making the offer? She risked a look at him, but could read nothing in the slate-grey eyes and hard mouth.