‘I don’t want to add to her burden of worry about Dad by telling her my troubles. At least I’ve been able to find out that Dad never looked at his private mail the day of his heart attack—thank God! With luck our engagement will be all the disincentive our malicious ill-wisher needs to persuade him he’s flogging a dead horse…’
To that end, their next visit was to a jeweller’s, where Matt told the obsequious salesman that his main requirement was that his fiancé’s ring be ‘big and bold’.
‘Now he thinks you’re crass,’ murmured Rachel as she left the store with what felt like a huge weight dragging on her finger.
‘Nonsense, darling. He only has to look at you to realise what beauty there is in opulence.’ To the amusement of passers-by he smothered her huff with a kiss to which she recklessly responded, quieting her conscience by telling herself that she was just playing a part.
‘I thought something dainty and small would be all wrong for your hands,’ he said, taking her hand as they walked to the Porsche. ‘I like this one because it’s so unashamedly different. That beaten gold gives it a lovely, barbaric look, don’t you think? Like something an Amazon queen might have worn…’
She remembered the strikingly eccentric pieces of art in his house and looked again at the flash of fire on her ring-finger, seeing it not only with her eyes but with her heart. He could have chosen something bland and generic to go with the pretence, but instead he had gone for something that he thought would specifically suit her, something eye-catching yet also resonant with a deeper symbolism, a ring that was as sensuous as it was striking.
‘I suppose so…’ she admitted reluctantly. It wouldn’t do for her to fall in love with something that she knew was only on loan.
Like the man himself…
The ring was a big hit with everyone who saw it, and even prompted a generous apology from Frank.
‘I’m sorry I blew my top at you the way I did on Saturday,’ he told her after their Monday staff meeting, and Rachel waited for him to add the usual rider which would award her partial responsibility for incurring his wrath. Instead he had rambled on about the pressures he was operating under, saying that he hoped he hadn’t damaged their working relationship to the extent that she felt unable to confide in him.
Wary of the tension underlying his affability, Rachel stuck to the cover story which she and Matt had agreed upon. To distract Frank from any inconsistencies she told him about the mysterious intruder at the house, stressing that nothing had been taken.
Frank instantly snapped back into professional mode, demanding to know whether she’d called the police.
‘I didn’t see much point, since nothing was taken.’ She shrugged. Seeking to divert him further, she told him about the string of problems she had been having with the council, the post and the tax department. ‘But I don’t think they’re connected with this latest thing…’
‘Hmm…why don’t I look into it for you?’ he offered, with surprising alacrity and none of the stinging criticism she had been prepared to resent. ‘It’s the least I can do after the way I carried on. Could be that it’s related to some case that’s gone through here.’ He turned to leave her office before swinging back to add as an afterthought, ‘Oh, by the way, I’ve had to let Max Armstrong go.’
‘The new man?’ Although Frank usually handled dismissals, he normally discussed them with her first. ‘You fired him? But I thought you said he was working out quite well.’
‘He had a bit of an attitude problem—you know how stroppy those ex-undercover guys can be. With things as financially uncertain as they are right now we have to make extra sure that everyone’s pulling their weight. I didn’t fire him; I just explained it was a policy of last on, first off…’
Rachel watched him go, vaguely uneasy. Frank never apologised and rarely explained himself, and just now he had done both!
She remembered Matt saying that a doubtful friend was worse than a certain enemy. She had never felt secure in Frank’s friendship, and, thinking back to all the times he had playe
d on her sense of inferiority to get his own way, to how he had only incrementally allowed her access to the business and never encouraged personal confidences, her unease deepened. What had suddenly made him so anxious to stand in her trust? Did he think that she might be persuaded to use her new ‘influence’ with Matt for the benefit of WSS?
Her distaste for the idea made her sharp when Matt rang to make plans for the evening, but she still found herself coaxed into having dinner with his mother and spending another night under his roof, this time in his city apartment.
‘But I’m not sleeping with you,’ she stated bluntly, not sure who she was punishing most. Since Matt was the cause of her painfully conflicted feelings, she hoped it was him!
Her attempt to reduce his powerful impact on her to its most basic physical—and therefore manageable—level had backfired. Instead she found herself even more deeply ensnared by the attraction, forced to deal with the real man rather than the fantasy, aware that to fulfil his demand for trust would mean surrendering to the frightening emotions he aroused.
As well as a fear of opening herself up to more hurt, Rachel felt intimated by the awesome responsibility he had handed to her: the knowledge that when they made love she would be initiating him into one of the great pleasures of life.
Of course, I expect the sex to be utterly spectacular…
He had only been teasing, but what if she disappointed him? She had enjoyed a good sex life with David, but it had been nothing spectacular, and he had usually been the one to take the lead.
But even when she was back in her house she no longer found it the peaceful haven it had once been. In a startlingly short time Matt had become all-pervasive in her life. At least she had little time to miss Robyn and Bethany, she thought, as she shuttled between the office, the gym and dates with Matt that she was careful to keep confined to public places—although she made no attempt to avoid the passionate kisses on the doorstep which left them both aching and dissatisfied.
His father had come through his by-pass surgery with flying colours, and Rachel was grateful when his doctor restricted visitors to immediate family only for a further few days. She had a feeling that Kevin Riordan was too shrewd to be taken in by the kind of charade which had convinced his wife, and if he asked Rachel flat-out in front of Matt whether she was in love with his son, she feared she didn’t know whether the lie she was supposed to admit would also be the truth she was trying to deny.
On the third evening after the operation, Rachel was waiting on the ward for Matt to finish his visit so that they could go to dinner when she was surprised by a familiar voice.
‘I understand that congratulations are in order…’
She whirled around to face the tall, handsome man in a pin-striped suit. ‘Neville! I didn’t know you were back…’