‘That I bore his bastard,’ Philippa supplied for him. Inwardly she was shaking with anger, but she wasn’t going to let Scott see how much his insults hurt her. ‘What’s the matter, Scott? Jealous because my child wasn’t yours?’
For a second time seemed to be suspended, both of them totally engrossed in one another, the tension between them so tight that it threatened to explode.
‘Mine? Dear God, do you think I would allow a bitch like you to have my child? Once I would have married you, no matter whose child you carried; that was how much I… loved you. But I loved a chimera, someone who didn’t exist, I loved a cheating, greedy little bitch. No, I don’t wish you’d had my child, Philippa. In fact I thank God that I never burdened a child of mine with a mother like you.’
He turned away from her before she; could speak, going to join the others, leaving her alone with the waves of pain that threatened to swamp all her fragile defences. She had thought she knew pain; that it was something she had come to terms with, endured; but she had known nothing. Nothing!
She wanted to leave, to go up to her room and lock herself away, but she couldn’t move. The voices of the others impinged distantly, like the sound of the sea against the shore.
‘Mum, are you all right?’
She dragged her thoughts together and stared blindly into Simon’s anxious face. Simon! For his sake she had to pull herself together. ‘Fine,’ she assured him. Eve was saying something to her, proferring a cup of tea, her eyes anxious. She took it, the cup clattering against the saucer, her nerves so finely drawn that she wanted to scream to relieve the tension, and to go on scr
eaming.
‘Well, Philippa, it’s been lovely seeing you again. You must come over and see us.’ Somehow they were all standing outside by Geoff’s Rolls. ‘That invitation includes you young man,’ he added ruffling Simon’s dark hair. Simon shied away, glowering at him, as though some of Scott’s antagonism towards the other man had rubbed off. ‘James will be home from school shortly, you two would probably get along. How old are you?’
When Simon told him, he said, ‘Well, James is nine, just a year younger.’ She had never told Geoff about Scott, or about Simon, but she could see the way his glance moved assessingly from Scott to his son, before coming to rest on her own pale face. ‘Well, if you ever get tired of Scott here, we can always find you a job at Fairmile.…’
He climbed into his Rolls and Philippa stood back, tensing as she felt Scott’s fingers on her wrist, his breath hot against her ear as he rasped, ‘And we all know what your “job” will be don’t we, “Pippa”? And you’d go to him, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you?’
He was practically shaking her, where she stood, and she fought to get away from him. ‘This can’t go on, Scott,’ she whispered back. ‘You must let me go. Simon.…’
‘Simon what? Might guess the truth, is that what you’re so frightened of?’
‘Simon is getting too attached to you,’ Philippa told him, breaking off when Eve and Simon turned in their direction. ‘We can’t talk about it now.…’
‘So what are you going to do? Come to my room? Are you sure it’s talk you want, Philippa, or has seeing him again made you hungry for something only a man can give you? Too bad,’ he told her with soft violence. ‘I’m not playing stand-in again. You’ll just have to want, and I’ll enjoy watching you ache.’
* * *
On Monday she was back at work, wondering how she was going to convince Scott that he must let them leave. She heard him on the phone to Sir Nigel when she walked into his office with the post. He indicated to her to leave it on his desk, and then motioned to her to stay.
‘Oh yes, I’m sure she’s looking forward to seeing you too,’ she heard him say, and then the receiver was replaced, his eyes chips of frozen blue in his hard boned face. ‘That was your erstwhile employer. He and Sheikh Raschid will arrive on Wednesday.’ The phone rang again and Philippa walked back to her own office.
Hank arrived halfway through the morning. ‘How did you get on with Cara?’ Philippa asked him. He grimaced faintly.
‘She’s still one very angry lady, but I think I might get there in the end.’
She told him about the Sheikh’s visit and he whistled, visibly impressed. ‘Umm. That could prove a better contract than Cara’s father’s. We’ll all just have to keep our fingers crossed.’ He frowned suddenly, touching light fingers to her cheek. ‘You look pale, is.…’
Scott’s door opened, his voice harsh as he demanded, ‘Hank, I want to see you—always supposing you can make time between making out with my secretary. Bring us some coffee,’ he ordered Philippa, his tone deliberately demeaning.
Biting down hard on the anger surging up inside her Philippa responded, watching Hank lift his eyebrows behind Scott’s back and mouth, ‘What’s got into him, or shouldn’t I ask?’
It was after lunch before she saw either of them again. Hank looked tired, and Scott was scowling.
‘Phew, he’s in a mood,’ Hank commented when Scott disappeared into his office. ‘What’s biting him? I’ve never seen him like this before.’
Philippa shook her head. She needed some details from the computer office and asked Hank if he could keep an eye on the phones while she went to get them. When she got back Hank was still lounging by her desk, but the door to Scott’s room was open.
‘He’s calling it a day,’ Hank told her, ‘said something about going for a swim. My guess is he wants to work off whatever’s put him into his mood. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?’ His eyes were kind and Philippa felt the tears pricking the backs of her eyes. She tried to blink them back but it was too late and once started she couldn’t seem to stop.
‘Oh, baby.… C’mon, cry it all out,’ Hank ordered her. His shoulder felt reassuringly solid and his embrace was brotherly rather than sexual. ‘Want to tell me about it?’
She shook her head, feeling both foolish and embarrassed by her emotionalism.
‘I suppose this wouldn’t have anything to do with young Simon’s rather startling resemblance to a certain person, would it?’ Hank pressed softly.