It Started With A Kiss: The Secret Love-Child / Facing Up to Fatherhood / Not a Marrying Man

‘You know what, you disgusting man. Now help me into this darned thing.’

The runabout rocked wildly when Isabel first stepped down into it, with Isabel almost tipping into the sea. ‘Maybe we should have called Tom to take us over,’ she said in a panicky voice as she clutched at the sides.

‘If you’d just sit down in the middle of the seat, Isabel,’ Rafe pointed out calmly, ‘everything would be fine.’

Isabel did just that, and everything was fine, with Rafe starting up the motor as though he’d been doing it all his life, then steering her safely back to the main beach where he eased the small craft expertly into another jetty. His confidence and competence at things marine and mechanical reminded Isabel that men like Rafe did have their uses in life, other than to give women mind-blowing climaxes.

If she kept him coming around occasionally, he could also be called upon to change light-bulbs, put new washers in leaking taps and even mow the lawn. Now that she was a home owner she’d have to do things like that from time to time.

When he climbed up onto the jetty with his back to her she ogled his body quite shamelessly, especially those tight buns, housed as they were tonight in tight black jeans.

‘Now you stop that,’ he said, turning and grinning down at her.

‘Stop what?’ she managed to counter, but her cheeks felt hot.

‘You know what, you disgusting woman.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about,’ she parried. ‘Now, help me out of here, and don’t let me fall in the water.’

‘Might do you good. Cool you down a tad.’

Isabel decided she really couldn’t let him get away with mocking her. Her glance was cool as a cucumber. ‘I thought you liked me hot and wet, not cold and wet.’ And she swept past him.

Rafe watched her stalk off up the jetty and smiled. She was a one all right. More sassy and sexy than any woman he’d ever met.

But he had her measure. She liked him. She didn’t want to but she did. That was why she was going to such great pains to put him in his place all the time. What she didn’t realise was that fate might have already propelled him out of his role as temporary lover into possibly something far more permanent. Father of her child.

Mmm. That was another thing he had to check up on. What the odds were of that.

‘Where are we going for dinner exactly?’ she asked him when he caught up and took her arm.

‘To the Hibiscus Restaurant. This way.’ He guided her along the planked walkway which connected the jetty to the main resort buildings which sat in several acres of tropical gardens just behind the beach.

Aside from the reception area, which also encompassed the island store, there was a five-star hotel nestled amongst the palms which boasted two à la carte restaurants, a buffet-style bistro, a couple of bars, a casino games room and a pool which, from the brochures, had to be seen to be believed. One of the restaurants was called the Hibiscus, named no doubt after the lovely tropical flower which grew in abundance on the island.

‘I booked a table there while you were in the shower,’ he told her. ‘The woman on the other end of the phone said it was the most romantic of the restaurants here. I gather she thought we were honeymooners.’

‘And you didn’t tell her we weren’t,’ Isabel said drily.

‘Goodness, no. That way, we were assured of a good table. She said since it was a balmy night she’d give us one of the ones on the terrace overlooking the pool.’

‘Con artist,’ Isabel scorned.

‘Just being my usual clever charming self.’

‘Arrogant and egotistical, that’s what you are.’

‘You like me arrogant and egotistical.’

‘Only in bed.’

‘People spend a third of their lives in bed. Except when they’re on a pretend honeymoon. Then, they spend nearly all of it.’

Isabel laughed. And why not? Rafe had to be one of the most entertaining men she’d ever been with. It was impossible not to surrender to his charm, or be amused by his wit, which was wicked and dry, just the way she liked it.

‘I love it when you laugh,’ he said. ‘You look even more beautiful when you laugh.’

‘Do stop flattering me, Rafe. I might get used to it.’

‘Ooh, and wouldn’t that be dreadful?’

‘Not so dreadful. Just unwise.’

‘Why?’

She sighed as her good humour faded. ‘I told you once before, Rafe. I don’t want to have another relationship with a man whose idea of a relationship begins and ends in the bedroom.’

‘And you think that’s all I’d ever want from you?’

‘Isn’t it?’

‘That depends.’

‘On what?’

On whether you’re carrying my child…

‘On how good you can cook,’ he quipped.

Her eyebrows shot up. ‘You’re saying the way to your heart is through your stomach? I don’t believe it.’

‘I do like my food. This way to the Hibiscus,’ he directed on seeing an arrowed sign veering off to the right through the gardens. ‘Mmm, I wonder what their wine list is like? Since there’s no extra charge, I’ll order a different bottle with each course.’

‘I’m not going back in that tin-can with you if you’ve been drinking heavily,’ she warned.

‘Me, neither. If I feel I’m over the limit, we’ll get someone else to take us back. Okay?’

‘Okay.’ She nodded. ‘And don’t encourage me to drink too much, either. I still haven’t got over the hangover I had from my last binge.’

‘Yes, but that was hard liquor. A few glasses of wine won’t hurt.’

‘Mmm. You’d say that. You’re probably trying to get me drunk so that you can have your wicked way with me.’

He laughed. ‘Honey, I don’t have to get you drunk to do that.’

Isabel winced. ‘I asked for that one, didn’t I?’

He gave her an affectionate squeeze. ‘Don’t be silly. I love the way you are.’

Isabel didn’t doubt it. Men had always been partial to whores.

Her stomach turned over at this last thought. She wasn’t a whore, but maybe, in Rafe’s eyes, she was acting like one. There again, maybe not. Rafe was not a narrow-minded man, and he didn’t seem to be afflicted with that dreadful set of double standards which some men dragged up to make women feel guilty about their sexuality.

Her mother, however, wouldn’t be impressed with the way she’d been behaving.

Isabel suppressed a groan. Why, oh why did she have to think of her mother? The woman was out of the ark when it came to her views on such things. She didn’t appreciate that the world was a different world now. Marriage couldn’t be relied upon any more to provide a woman with security for life. And men…men couldn’t be relied upon at all!

‘You’ve gone all quiet on me,’ Rafe said worriedly.

‘Just thinking.’

‘Thinking can be bad for you.’

‘What do you recommend?’

‘Talking is good. And so, sometimes, is drinking. You could do with a measure of both.’

‘You conniving devil. You just want to find out all my secrets.’

‘You mean you have some?’

‘Don’t we all?’

‘My life is an open book.’

‘Huh! Any man with designer stubble and a phantom’s head in his ear has to have some secrets.’

‘Not me. What you see is what you get. If you think I’m indulging in some kind of pretentious arty-farty image with the way I look, you couldn’t be more wrong. The phantom’s head belonged to my father. I wear it all the time because when I look in the mirror I’m reminded of him. I don’t shave every day because it gives me a rash if I do. As far as my clothes are concerned, I dress strictly for comfort, and in colours which don’t stain easily. I am who I am, Isabel. And I like who I am. Can you say the same? Aah. Here we are. The Hibiscus.’

CHAPTER TEN

THE Hibiscus lived up to its recommendation, with even the indoor tables having a view of the spectacular pool, courtesy of glass walls on three sides of the restaurant.

Still, given the balmy night, it was going to be very pleasant sitting outside under the stars, and the table they were shown to did overlook the pool directly.

Round and glass-topped, the table was set with hibiscus-patterned place-mats, superb silverware and crystal glasses to suit every type of wine. The menus were printed with silver lettering on a laminated sheet which matched the place-mats.

After seeing them seated, the good-looking young waiter handed Rafe the wine list, then lit the lantern-style candle resting in the circular slot in the middle of the table, possibly where an umbrella would be inserted during daylight hours. The wine list was small but select, and Rafe ordered an excellent champagne to start with whilst Isabel silently studied the menu.

Even after the waiter departed she didn’t glance up or say a word, leaving Rafe to regret the crack he’d made about her perhaps not liking who she was. She’d looked down-in-the-mouth ever since.

But if she was going to keep firing bullets, then she had to expect some back.

Still…he hated seeing her sad.

But what to do?

‘Find anything there to tempt your tastebuds?’ he asked lightly on picking up his own menu. A quick glance showed there were three choices for each course, rather like a set menu.

‘I’m not that hungry, actually,’ she murmured, still not looking up.

Rafe put down his menu. ‘Look, I’m sorry, all right? I didn’t mean to offend you.’

Now she did look up. ‘Don’t apologise. You’re quite right. I don’t think I do like who and what I am. I suspect I never have.’

‘What rubbish. What’s not to like, except the way you used to do your hair? I hated that. And it wasn’t the real you at all.’

‘The real me? And what’s that, pray tell? Slut of the month?’

Rafe was truly taken aback, then annoyed with her. ‘Don’t you dare say that about yourself. So you’re a sensual woman and enjoy sex. So what? That’s nothing to be ashamed of.’

‘If you say so,’ she muttered unhappily.

‘You should be jolly well proud of yourself. A lot of females would have folded after what you’ve been through just lately. But not you. You lifted your chin, squared your shoulders and went on. I might not agree with your decision to have a baby all alone, but I do admire the guts it took to make such a decision.’

Isabel was taken aback, both by his compliments and his apparent sincerity. He liked her, and not just because she was good in bed.

‘Good grief, Isabel, don’t you ever go putting yourself down like that again. You have to be one of the most incredible women I’ve ever met, so stop that self-pitying nonsense and choose something to eat, or I’ll lose patience with you and not even want to play sheikh to your harem girl at the end of the night.’

She laughed, her eyes sparkling with returned good humour. ‘I knew I did right to ask you to come here with me. You are so…so…’

‘Sensible?’ he suggested when she couldn’t find the right word.

She smiled. ‘I was thinking more along the lines of refreshing.’

‘Now, that’s something I haven’t been called before. Refreshing.’

‘Take it as a compliment.’

‘Oh, I will, don’t worry.’

Her head tipped to one side as her eyes searched his face. ‘You really are a nice man, Rafe Saint Vincent. And a very snazzy dresser. Love that black and white shirt. Can I borrow it some time?’

‘You can borrow anything of mine you like. Sorry I can’t return the compliment. I have a feeling I wouldn’t look too good in any of your clothes.’

They were both smiling at each other when the waiter materialised by their side again with the champagne, which he duly poured, then asked if they’d like to order. Rafe did, with Isabel surrendering the choice to him, saying she liked the look of everything on the menu anyway and had recently used up all her decision-making powers.

He grinned and chose a Thai beef and noodle dish for an entrée and a grilled barramundi for the main, with a salad side plate.

‘And mango cheesecake for dessert,’ he finished up. ‘We’ll also be ordering more wine with each course. Do you have any half-bottles?’

‘I’m sorry, sir, but we don’t. However, you can order any of the wines listed by the glass.’

‘Really? What happens to the rest of the bottle if no one else orders it?’

The waiter gave a small smirk as he whisked the menus away. ‘It doesn’t go to waste, sir. Be assured of that.’

‘I’ll bet,’ Rafe said drily after the waiter departed. ‘I’d like to be a fly on the wall of the kitchen every night after closing.’

‘There are always perks to any job,’ Isabel pointed out.

‘Oh? And what were the perks of being a receptionist at a big city architectural firm?’

Isabel frowned. ‘How did you know that was my job?’

‘I found out when I rang Les and told him your wedding was off. We had quite a chat about you. He thinks you’re a dish and wanted to know what I thought of you.’

‘And you said?’

‘I was suitably complimentary but discreet. Not a word about this little jaunt, since it was obvious he knew your family fairly well.’

‘Fancy that. Rafe Saint Vincent—the soul of discretion.’

‘I have many hidden virtues.’

‘Some not so hidden,’ she said saucily.

‘Naughty girl. But back to the original question. What perks were there in your job beside meeting multi-millionaire architects?’

‘Not too many, actually. Free ball-point pens? And we won’t count meeting Luke, since that didn’t work out. I don’t have to ask you what the perks of your job are. I’ve seen them on the walls of your office.’

Rafe frowned. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Oh, come now, lover, those photographs speak for themselves. They have foreplay written all over them.’

‘You think I slept with all those women?’

‘Didn’t you?’ Isabel picked up her crystal flute of champagne and began to sip.

‘Heck, no. There were at least one or two who held out.’

Isabel spluttered into the glass.

‘But they were lesbians.’

Isabel had to put down her glass.

‘Stop it,’ she choked out, and mopped up around her laughing mouth with her serviette.

‘Would you like me to photograph you like that?’

Isabel swallowed. ‘In the nude, you mean?’

‘Good heavens, no. You saw my photographs. I never take full nudes. You can wear earrings, if you like. And those shoes.’ One eyebrow arched wickedly as he peered at her sexily shod feet through the glass table. ‘Oh yes, definitely those shoes.’

‘You’re teasing me.’

‘Yep. I didn’t bring my camera with me. Unfortunately.’

Thank Heaven, she thought. Because no doubt she would have let him photograph her just like that. Her behaviour with him since arriving on this island had been nothing short of outrageous.

‘So!’ she said, and swept up her champagne glass again. ‘Tell me why you’re opposed to my decision to have a baby alone.’

He smiled a wry smile. ‘A change of subject, I presume. A wise move.’ Just thinking about photographing her in nothing but earrings and those shoes was making him decidedly uncomfortable, especially since he was wearing rather tight jeans.

Rafe picked up his champagne, took a couple of sips and put his mind to answering her very pertinent question. If she hadn’t brought up the subject of having a baby herself, he would have worked his way round to it. He hesitated to tell her what he really thought of her decision to have a baby alone by artificial insemination. She was determined anyway, and they’d just end up arguing. What he needed to know was the likelihood of her having conceived his child today.

‘I just think it was a hasty decision, and one made on the rebound after Luke. You’re still a young woman, Isabel, with well over a decade of baby-making capabilities left. You have more than enough time to find a suitable father for your baby before launching into motherhood alone. I think you should wait and see if he turns up.’

‘Look, I told you. I tried finding Mr Right both with my heart and then my head and I bombed out both ways. No. I can’t keep on waiting. And you’re wrong about my having a lot of time. A woman might be theoretically capable of having a child right up until menopause, but the odds of her conceiving and carrying a healthy baby full term start to go downhill after she reaches thirty. No, Rafe, my biological clock is ticking and, knowing my luck, it’s probably about to blow up. The time for action is now.’

Rafe had a bit of difficulty keeping a straight face. Little did Isabel know but the time for action might very well have been this afternoon!

‘I see,’ he muttered, dropping his eyes towards his champagne for a few seconds before looking up again. ‘So if your marriage to Luke had gone ahead, you were planning to get pregnant pretty well straight away, then?’

Isabel sighed. ‘Yes.’

‘On this honeymoon?’

‘Uh-huh. I had it all worked out, right to the very hour and the day.’

‘Hard to pinpoint ovulation with that kind of accuracy, isn’t it?’

‘Not when you’re as regular as I am, and when you’ve taken your temperature every day for three months.’

‘And?’ Rafe prompted. ‘When would the critical time have been?’

‘What? Oh, not till tomorrow, I think. Yes, Thursday. I do everything on a Thursday. Ovulate and get my period. Regular as clockwork, I am. Twenty-eight days on the dot. My girlfriends at work always used to envy the fact I was never taken by surprise, which was true. I used to pop into the loo at morning tea on P-day because I knew, come noon, the curse would arrive.’

‘The curse?’

‘That’s what we women call it. You don’t think it’s a pleasure, do you? Oh, but this is a depressing topic. Would you mind if we changed the subject again? Let’s talk about you.’

‘Fine,’ Rafe said, his head whirling. Thursday. Did sperm live for a full day? He was pretty sure it was possible, but she’d got up and had a shower soon afterwards. The odds weren’t on his side.

Weren’t on his side! Was he mad? He should have been relieved. He didn’t really want to be a father, did he? Did he?

He looked at Isabel and realised he did. With her, anyway.

The realisation took his breath away.

He reefed his eyes away and stared down at the pool. Stared and stared and stared. And then his eyes flung wide. Who would have believed it?

‘Rafe? Rafe, what’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.’

His gaze swung back to her and he almost laughed. ‘I have. In a way. See that blonde frolicking down in the pool?’

‘The one with the really big bazookas?’

‘Yes, well she didn’t have such big bazookas when I knew her. She must have had a boob job. Anyway, that’s Liz—the girl I told you about. The one who dumped me.’

‘Really?’ Isabel was close enough to see the buxom blonde quite well, even better once she swam over and hauled herself up to sit on the edge of the pool. When she lifted her hands up to wring out her hair, her boobs looked like giant melons pressed together. Truly, they were enormous!

The grey-haired man she’d been canoodling with in the water climbed out via the ladder and walked over to where he’d left his towel. Whilst Liz looked in her late twenties, her companion was sixty if he was a day.

‘Let’s go, honey,’ Isabel heard the man say with a salacious wink as he walked by. ‘Time you earned your keep.’

‘Coming, darls,’ the blonde trilled back, though her face behind his back was less than enthusiastic.

‘Is that the man she threw you over for?’ Isabel asked, unable to keep the distaste out of her voice.

‘No. I have no idea who that is, although I presume he’s rich. No, the man Liz left me for was a fellow photographer. A more successful one at the time, though I’d heard rumours he had associations with some less than savoury video productions. I wondered what had become of Liz when I didn’t see any more of her in the fashion world. I think the answer lies in those double D cups. A lot of models, especially ones who want fame and money too quickly, get sucked into doing things they shouldn’t do. Pity. She could have been really someone. Instead, she’s turned into that.’ And he nodded towards the sight of her hurrying after her sugar-daddy, her gigantic breasts jiggling obscenely.

‘You seem slightly sorry for her,’ Isabel said, rather surprised.

‘Oddly enough, I am.’ He sounded surprised, too. ‘Seeing her again, in the flesh so to speak, has given me a different perspective. And it’s laid quite a few ghosts to rest.’

‘You loved her a lot once, didn’t you?’

‘Yes. Yes, I did. Stupid, really. In hindsight, I can see she wasn’t worth it, but love is blind, as they say.’

‘I know exactly what you mean. I couldn’t count the number of creeps and losers I’ve fallen for over the years. But, dear heaven, the last fellow I was involved with before Luke made the others look like saints. Still, I didn’t know that when I first met him.’

‘And where was that?’

‘I was working my way around Australia and had taken this job as a salesgirl in a trendy little boutique on the Gold Coast which sold Italian shoes. One day, this sophisticated guy came in and I served him. He bought six pairs of shoes, just so he could spend more time with me, he said. Naturally, I was impressed.’

‘Mmm. A bit naïve of you, Isabel, falling for a line like that.’

‘That’s me when I fall for a man. Naïve.’

‘You weren’t with me.’

‘I was attracted to you, Rafe. I didn’t fall for you.’

Terrific. Well, he’d asked for that one, hadn’t he?

‘So what happened next?’

‘What do you think? He took me out to dinner that night, then straight home to bed afterwards.’

Rafe decided not to pursue that conversation further. He felt decidedly jealous of this Hal and his instant sexual success. Isabel had given him icicles the first day they’d met. Still, she had been a bride-to-be at that stage, and possibly still suffering from the once-bitten twice-shy syndrome after this fellow.

‘So how did it end? Did he dump you?’

‘No. Actually, he didn’t. In a weird way I believe Hal did love me. As much as a man like that is capable of love. No, something happened and I could no longer pretend he was Mr Right.’

‘Oh-oh, sounds like you found out he was already married.’

She laughed. ‘If only it were as simple as that.’

‘Now I’m seriously intrigued. What happened?’

‘He was arrested. For drug importation and dealing. He got fifteen years.’

‘Wow. And you never suspected?’

‘Not for a moment. He didn’t use drugs himself, and he never did any dealing in my presence. Even when he made numerous trips to Bangkok I didn’t suspect. He said he was an importer. Of jewellery. I should have known by past experience that he was too good to be true, but as you said…love will make a fool of you every time. I thought all my dreams had come true. Hal was handsome, successful, exciting, masterful. Materially, he had it all as well. The mansion on the water. The car. The yacht. He swept me right off my feet, I can tell you. Told me he adored me. It was just a matter of time, I thought, till he proposed. I was on cloud nine till I picked up the paper one day and saw his photograph on the front page.’

‘Must have been one bad day.’

‘That’s an understatement, I can assure you. I was devastated.’

‘Did you have to testify at his trial?’

‘No. Which was fortunate. Also fortunate that this all happened in another state. I hadn’t told my parents about Hal, you see. But I was going to, once we were engaged. I thought he’d be a pleasant surprise after all the going-nowhere men I’d been with in the past. Some surprise he’d have turned out to be!’

‘Just as well he was arrested when he was, then.’

‘I didn’t quite see it that way at the time,’ Isabel muttered.

‘No. Just as I didn’t see I was better off without Liz. But we’re both better off without both of them, Isabel. Much better off. And you’re better off without Luke, no matter what you think now. He didn’t love you.’