The Secret Father. KIM LAWRENCE
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speculation dancing in her sister’s eyes.
‘Don’t push it now,’ Lindy advised quietly as they left the room. To her relief, Hope took the hint. She knew she’d have to face the speculation and questions sooner or later, but right now it was going to be hard enough to justify her brazen behaviour to herself, let alone anyone else!
CHAPTER TWO
LINDY didn’t look up as her sister came in and lay on the patchwork counterpane of her bed. Hope lifted one long, tanned leg, revealed pleasingly in a pair of denim shorts, and examined her painted toenails silently.
‘Good journey?’ she said brightly.
Lindy knew this wasn’t the question she was longing to ask. What she really wanted to know was how her restrained sister had managed to end up on Sam Rourke’s lap in a passionate clinch after an extremely short acquaintance.
‘I’ve no idea how it happened,’ she said abruptly, glaring half-defiantly at Hope in the dressing-table mirror she was facing. She tapped ineffectually at her honey-blonde hair with a silver-backed brush and frowned at her reflection.
‘The journey or…?’ Hope raised her eyebrows dramatically.
‘Or…’ Lindy confirmed quickly, before her sister went into painful detail.
‘Well, if you’re going to go all spontaneous and passionate it might as well be with Sam. He is about as delicious as men get.’ She ran her tongue across her lips as if relishing the thought and swung herself upright, tucking one leg neatly underneath the other in the lotus position.
‘It wasn’t what it looked like. I don’t go for beef cake. People as obviously good-looking as him only exist in soaps—daytime soaps!’
‘Miss hoity-toity!’ Hope taunted. ‘Let your mind wander back a few minutes.’
Lindy covered her face with her hands and groaned. ‘Don’t!’ she pleaded, her bravado disintegrating. She spread her fingers and peeped out at her sister. ‘I can’t believe I…’ She shrugged her shoulders and her hands fell away from her face. ‘You know… It’s awful!’
‘Heavens, I’m supposed to be the tragedy queen of the family,’ said Hope. ‘Don’t tell me he’s got bad breath—I have some semi-lecherous scenes with the man.’
‘I’m surprised you haven’t been practising.’ Lindy bit her lip when, after a startled silence, her sister burst out laughing. ‘I’m glad you find this funny,’ Lindy snapped, spinning around on her stool. The idea of her gorgeous sister sampling the pleasures of Sam’s lips and heaven knew what else made her feel very bad-tempered. ‘Is he still here?’
‘Lloyd’s gone but, if you mean Sam, he’s staying here. I was going to surprise you.’
‘Oh, you did, Hope, you did. I made a total fool of myself.’
‘A few kisses!’ Hope shrugged. ‘It was just a few kisses, wasn’t it? All right, don’t blow a fuse,’ she said hastily. ‘Rigid principles are all well and good, but sometimes the best of us weaken given temptation.’
Lindy put aside her own problems for a moment as she recalled the insinuations Sam had made about Hope and the rather daunting man she had recently, if briefly, met. ‘Are you speaking from personal experience here?’
‘You and Sam did spend some time talking, then, before you ripped off his clothes.’
Lindy firmly put aside the startling image of Sam Rourke’s perfect frame. She wasn’t about to be diverted from her theme. The cautious expression she had seen briefly in her sister’s eyes had been enough to worry her.
‘I can’t think of any reason to undress a man who is capable of doing it for himself.’ She couldn’t let this assumption pass unchallenged.
‘I could enumerate them,’ her sister offered generously.
‘I think Sam didn’t want me to be taken by surprise by the gossip,’ Lindy said swiftly—too swiftly. It was faintly shocking to realise that her own brain was fertile enough to make any lesson from Hope on the subject redundant.
‘Sam’s no gossip,’ Hope acceded. ‘Unfortunately, he’s a minority of one. I’m not having an affair with Lloyd.’
Lindy met her sister’s eyes and gave a sigh of relief. ‘I’m glad; I’d hate for you to be hurt. I know how…’ Her voice thickened.
Hope came over and gave her a quick hug. ‘It was an awfully long time ago,’ she said softly, compassion in her eyes. ‘No matter how it looks, I’m not involved with Lloyd, at least not in that way.’
‘Do you think it’s wise to spend the day with him and fuel people’s speculation?’
Hope got to her feet. ‘People’s nasty minds are not my problem,’ she observed sharply.
Lindy didn’t think this was a very practical position to take, but she didn’t voice her doubts. ‘Perhaps they’ll think you’re having an affair with Sam—he is living here.’
‘He’s only stopping for a couple more days. He has a boat that he usually lives on. It’s down here, but it’s in dry dock having its keel hauled or whatever they do to boats. The hotels are overflowing with our lot and, besides, the poor lamb likes his privacy. Anyway, he’s a much better cook than I am.’
‘That’s no great recommendation,’ Lindy said, recalling some of her sister’s more spectacular culinary exploits. ‘Ducks have been known to sink when fed your soufflé.’
‘I’ll probably marry a chef,’ Hope said thoughtfully. ‘A tall one,’ she added with a chuckle as she ducked her head to avoid a low beam. ‘Do you like the room? Isn’t the place a find?’
‘It’s lovely, Hope. Or am I supposed to call you Lacey here?’
‘Don’t you dare! Is it going to be a problem for you with Sam here?’ she said, her expression growing serious. ‘I could ask him to find somewhere else.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ The last thing she wanted to do was play up the whole trivial incident. He was attractive and he’d kissed her—and she’d kissed him, a pedantic voice annoyingly added. She could share a roof with the man and show him how little she was affected by the experience. ‘It was a momentary aberration, that’s all.’
‘If you say so.’
‘I do,’ Lindy responded firmly, not much caring for the tone of her sister’s voice.
It turned out that Hope hadn’t exaggerated the dratted man’s culinary talents. She and Hope returned from a stroll along the beach later that evening to find the table set and delicious smells emanating from the galley kitchen.
‘That smell’s terrific, you lovely man, you.’ Hope peeled off the jacket she had worn against the evening chill, shook out her golden mane and threw her arms around Sam’s neck. She ritually kissed him on both cheeks and Lindy, watching, couldn’t believe that any man wouldn’t be bowled over by her warmth and vitality. ‘I might just keep you on.’
‘Sorry, honey, but my heart belongs to Jennifer.’
‘What a waste,’ she replied with a grin.
Lindy quietly took her place at the table and hoped her strong desire to ask about the identity of Jennifer was not as easy to detect as she suspected it was. Did Jennifer know he went around kissing perfect strangers?
‘Do you feel better after your rest, Rosalind?’ Sam asked as Hope helped herself to a generous portion of home-made pasta.
‘Much, thank you.’ Like a coward, she’d avoided contact with him earlier in the evening by pleading exhaustion—a cop-out, and he probably knew it. It had worked, though. She could now be perfectly objective about his smouldering sexuality.
She