‘No, he’s not…he doesn’t care about me.’
‘He does—’
‘No, he doesn’t. Do you know how Rafael found out about me? Mum was in a bad way, so Father Kewney went to Rafael and told him that I was his father’s kid. Rafael didn’t get a choice about taking me up as a charity case. I’m just a nuisance and an embarrassment to him.’
‘My stepfather raised me alone. He didn’t get a choice either, but even though he’s not related to me by blood he genuinely loves me,’ Harriet said quietly. ‘You are related to Rafael
, and he values that. You matter to him.’
Una lifted her head and studied her through puffy eyelids. ‘Did he tell you that?’
‘No. He’s not the kind of guy who’s comfortable talking about stuff like that. But I’ve seen his concern for you, and I think he probably understands more than you imagine he does. He didn’t have a very happy home life either when he was growing up.’
The teenager could not hide her surprise at that news. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Perhaps you have more in common with your brother than you think.’
‘Yeah, like I’m so rich and clever,’ Una mumbled.
‘He’s very cynical too.’
‘Is he raging with me?’
‘He’s more worried than angry. Please let me call him and let him know that you’re safe.’
‘No…I’ll do it,’ Una muttered tautly. ‘Are you dating Rafael now?’
‘No,’ Harriet answered, feeling that that was the truth as matters stood. ‘But he took me to the races at Leopardstown today.’
‘So when is a date not a date?’ Una hovered by the phone as if it was an actively hostile object, likely to leap up and attack her at any minute.
When it’s over before it’s properly begun, Harriet reflected inwardly, suddenly taut and cold with misery. Why had she slept with him? How could that have seemed so right when it now felt so wrong in retrospect? How had she ever believed that she could handle a fling? What sort of a fool was she to know and understand so little about herself that she had believed she could abandon her principles with impunity? For now, in spite of her brave belief that she could enjoy passion without commitment, she felt cheap and silly and thoroughly unhappy. A few hours and it was over. She cringed at that awareness.
Una rang Rafael on his mobile. Determined not to intrude, Harriet stayed inside when the teenager went out to greet the arrival of his car. A few minutes later Rafael appeared at the front door on his own. ‘Thank you.’ His dark eyes were unusually level and open. ‘This is the first time Una hasn’t treated me like the enemy. I owe you for that.’
Harriet lifted her chin. ‘You don’t owe me anything.’
‘Learn to accept compliments, gratitude and gifts with grace,’ Rafael countered, smooth as silk. ‘I won’t change the habits of a lifetime.’
Hope leapt inside her and she crushed it back, angry with herself. She was not going to start reading unintentional personal messages into his every stray remark. Nor was she planning to jump with painful anticipation every time the phone rang over the next week. ‘Neither will I,’ she traded, smothering a suggestive yawn in a hint that he was keeping her standing around on the doorstep.
After Luke, she told herself staunchly, she was as hardened and tough as old boots, and Rafael Cavaliere Flynn was already the equivalent of ancient history. He had cooled off and her pride had suffered a momentary pang. But that was all! And naturally there was a more positive angle to be considered. Now that she had lived through the proverbial rebound romance, popular report suggested that she would be in prime emotional condition to embrace a deeper and more lasting relationship with someone else. If right at that moment she felt that she would never in the longest day she lived look at another man again—well, no doubt that was only because she was feeling tired and battle-weary.
‘Rafael…my sister and her husband will have gone to bed if you don’t hurry up!’ Una wailed from the Lamborghini. ‘If we wake the baby Philomena will be furious!’
‘Relax…I’ve told them that you’ll be staying at Flynn Court tonight.’
Rafael continued to look at Harriet until she was rigid with nervous tension and the stress of avoiding a direct encounter with his all too knowing gaze. When he finally headed back to the sports car Harriet sagged and shut the door fast.
The phone rang. It was Boyce.
‘I’ve been trying to get hold of you all day,’ her brother complained. ‘Guess what? I’m flying in to Kerry airport tomorrow afternoon.’
‘Oh, that’s wonderful!’ Harriet was delighted at the news that she was about to have a house guest.
CHAPTER SEVEN
RAFAEL WAS RUDELY awakened by an infernal noise that in terms of annoyance fell somewhere between an animal shriek and chalk scraping down a blackboard.