Private Lives

He thought they were the intruders! No, he didn’t; Fin immediately rejected that idea: intruders would hardly have gone to the trouble of waking him up in the way they had. He was deliberately trying to make them feel uncomfortable because of his own earlier embarrassment.

Well, Fin, for one, didn’t feel in the least at a disadvantage. She knew she had a perfect right to be here, and she wanted an explanation as to why he was here. ‘I believe we are the ones who should be asking the questions, Mr …?’ She paused pointedly, but once again he chose to ignore her prompting to give his own name, meeting her gaze coolly, one brow raised in calm challenge. ‘We’re contracted to keep watch on the cottage whenever Gail is—– She didn’t tell us you were going to be here,’ Fin added stubbornly, refusing to be the one put in a position of explaining herself.

He shrugged unconcernedly, crossing his arms in front of his bared chest, a plain gold watch on the wrist of his left arm. ‘That’s OK; she didn’t tell me about you either!’

Impasse, Fin realised frustratedly. What should she do now? As far as she was aware, the man had done nothing but get drunk, very drunk, and fall asleep in Gail’s bed—without Gail. Naked. Fin mustn’t forget that, couldn’t forget it. Even now, with the denims resting low down on his hips to cover most of his nakedness, the tanned hardness of his chest caused her pulse to give a leap!

And there was still that disturbing feeling she had that she knew this man. While he was standing up like this, his very size dominating the small confines of the room, that feeling was all the stronger. But she had been so young that she couldn’t remember exactly …

‘I’ll get in touch with Gail and have her call you,’ he added with arrogant dismissal.

You may go now, Miss Whatever-your-name-is, Fin realised resentfully. He certainly had the damned arrogance of—– ‘I shall be telephoning her myself, Mr …?’ Once again she paused, and this time the determination in her face brooked no argument; she would at least know his name before she agreed to leave.

‘Danvers,’ he came back smoothly. Too smoothly? Had he taken those few minutes’ respite to give himself time to think of another identity for himself that would protect his anonymity …? ‘Jac—Jake Danvers,’ he added more confidently.

But Fin had noted the slip, couldn’t help wondering if it really was significant or if she was just imagining things where there was nothing. But there had been that ‘Jac’, and, although the name was different, the initials were the same, J.D. …

She nodded abruptly, frowning, deeply disturbed. ‘We’ll leave you in peace now, Mr Danvers.’ She gave a strained smile. ‘If you should need to contact us, we’re in the book,’ she offered with a politeness she was far from feeling. But if he really was a friend of Gail’s …

‘Under Little People,’ he acknowledged drily, the humour evident in his voice not reaching the coldness of his eyes.

‘Under Little People,’ she confirmed tersely, deciding then and there that she would try to contact Gail herself as soon as she got back to the office. The sooner the puzzle over this man’s identity was cleared up, the better it would be for everyone.

Not least Fin’s mother …

CHAPTER TWO

‘… JUST thought I should let you know, so that there’s no confusion, that my uncle will be staying at the cottage for a while,’ the recorded message told Fin dismissively. ‘He’s pretty capable of looking after himself, so I don’t think you’ll need to go to the cottage again until after he’s left,’ Gail added hastily. ‘But if you could just keep a distant eye on him …?’

Fin switched the machine off as she realised that was the end of the message. The ‘confusion’ had already occurred. And Fin would hazard a guess on the reason Gail had asked for a ‘distant’ eye to be kept on Jake Danvers—that she was well aware of the fact that he wouldn’t welcome any intrusion into his privacy!

She had tried to contact the other woman, once she’d got back to the office, at the telephone number she had for her in London, but there had been no reply. Gail was an actress, had been playing in a supporting role in one of London’s longest-running plays for the last nine months, and so at the moment she found it easier to stay in town during the week, and usually only managed to get down to the cottage on a Sunday overnight, hence her need for Fin to keep an eye on the cottage while she was away. Fin could only assume that the other woman was either sleeping at the moment after a late night at the theatre the night before, or else she was actually out; either way, Fin hadn’t actually been able to talk to her personally yet. What she had found, when she’d decided to leave calling Gail again until later in the day and got down to listening to the rest of her overnight messages, was that one of them was from Gail herself!

It didn’t bother Fin that the check on the cottage was no longer necessary at the moment; they had always had a flexible arrangement on that—no doubt when Gail was ‘resting’ once again she would move back to the cottage permanently anyway. But uncle? It wasn’t exactly that Fin doubted the other woman’s word, it was just—well, Gail was a tall, leggy blonde with an effervescent personality, none of which, except perhaps the height, bore any resemblance to the taciturn man Fin had encountered at the cottage earlier. The facial characteristics of the two were dissimilar too, Gail’s eyes a deep, deep brown, her complexion fair, her mouth wide and smiling. But if Jake Danvers wasn’t really Gail’s uncle, then what was he? What, indeed …?

It was really none of her business, Fin supposed ruefully; Gail was twenty-five, old enough to know exactly what she was doing. And take the consequences for it!

Nevertheless, Fin’s own curiosity about Jake Danvers continued, and she went out of her way later in the morning to drive past the cottage, just to see if she might not get another glimpse of him. And reassure herself of how ridiculous her thoughts concerning his identity this morning had been, she tried to convince herself.

She could see a movement out in the garden at the front of the cottage, hesitating only fractionally before turning the van down the gravel driveway, telling herself she was only making the call to let Jake Danvers know she had heard from Gail, and knew who he was now. It was a valid enough reason, but it wasn’t the true one …

It was him out in the garden; he was pulling up weeds from the flowerbeds, didn’t acknowledge the arrival of the van, or her footsteps on the gravel as she crossed to stand beside the wall, looking over at him, by even so much as a brief break in his concentration on the back-bending work.

He looked less strained than he had this morning—less hung-over, perhaps!—that grey tinge gone from his cheeks now, and instead sweat glistened on his face and body from his exertions, his skin seeming to have gone an even deeper brown just in this short time he must have spent out in the sun today, his hair falling untidily to his shoulders.

Fin’s pulse skipped a beat just from her looking at the sheer animal magnetism of him, colour burning in her cheeks as he turned suddenly and caught her watching him with avid interest.

He straightened abruptly, eyes narrowing almost accusingly, almost as if he really hadn’t been aware of her presence there, his attention so intent on something else. But surely not on weeding the garden, Fin doubted sceptically.

‘You again!’ he rasped harshly, looking down his arrogantly long nose at her. ‘Maybe you aren’t really one of the “little people”, but you certainly can creep around like one!’ he told her disgustedly.

The name of her business had been a talking point from when she had first started out, but one of her advertising slogans at the time had been that ‘she came in, did the job, and left again, without bother or hindrance to her client. Almost as if she had never been there at all’. Just the way the ‘little people’ were reputed to do. There had been the added factor of her name, but she had always skimmed over that particular part of it.

‘I didn’t try to hide the fact that I was here,’ she defended a little indignantly. ‘I came down the driveway in the van.’ She pointed to the yellow-coloured vehicle parked a short distance away.

His mouth twisted, and he almost seemed to wince at the brightness of the colour. ‘You would certainly have thought I would have noticed that!’ He gave a scornful shake of his head. ‘But I was deep in thought,’ he dismissed impatiently. ‘I didn’t hear you arrive at all; you could have given me a heart attack, creeping about like that,’ he accused hardly.

Surely it wasn’t her fault that he hadn’t heard her! And she knew what she would like to give him!

Oh, goodness, this second visit, meant to be a conciliatory one, was turning out to be as much of a mistake as the first one had been!

‘Gail rang and left a message for me.’ She deliberately kept her voice light as she tried to salvage the situation by explaining her reason for being here now at all. ‘She told me that you’re here on a visit,’ Fin smiled.

His mouth twisted with hard mockery. ‘I already knew my reason for being here!’

He certainly wasn’t about to make this easy for her! ‘But, as you may recall, I didn’t,’ Fin pointed out softly, determined not to allow him to force her into losing her temper. Then they would really be in trouble!

He shrugged, as if her lack of knowledge concerning his presence here really wasn’t his problem, his expression scathing. ‘And now you do,’ he dismissed, looking at her expectantly.

And, now that she had had her say, he wanted her to leave again, his gaze told her. He really was the rudest man she had ever had the misfortune to meet!

Fin straightened, any feelings of a need to be friendly towards this man, because Gail had asked her to, and because he was a stranger to the area and she would truly have liked to make him welcome, fading rapidly at his continued rudeness. Obviously he didn’t want to feel welcome, just wanted to be left alone with his rudeness. Well, that was easily arranged!

She turned to leave, but a loyalty to Gail made her hesitate slightly, to try to reach him just once more. ‘If there is anything you need during your stay here—–’

‘I’ll contact the Little People.’ He acknowledged the offer with a derisive inclination of his head. ‘Although I don’t really see the occasion arising,’ he added arrogantly.

Neither did Fin. In fact, she hoped it didn’t, didn’t particularly want to see this man ever again, not least because of his disturbing resemblance to that other man from the past. ‘I’ll leave you in peace, then,’ she said in abrupt farewell.

His mouth quirked, dark brows raised over mocking eyes the colour of aquamarine. ‘Now that would be a novelty!’ he drawled without even attempting to hide his sarcasm.

Fin knew, without needing to look in a mirror, that her freckles would be standing out lividly against the sudden redness of her face. But at that moment she didn’t care about how she looked, was fighting a battle within herself to hold on to her temper. Like a lot of red-haired people, when she lost her temper it was like Guy Fawkes Night and the Fourth of July fireworks all going off at the same time. It didn’t happen very often, thank goodness, but this man was pushing her to the limits of her politeness; she had never been treated with such derision in her life before!

She drew in several deep breaths of air before even attempting to speak. ‘You will find, Mr Danvers …’ she spoke in carefully controlled tones, relieved to find that terrible tide of anger she had felt wash over her beginning to fade; she had never lost her temper with a client yet, even if some of them could be a little difficult. But, strictly speaking, Jake Danvers wasn’t her client, he was just staying in the house of someone who was, and if the worst came to the worst she would take comfort from that knowledge before she ripped into him! ‘… that we are a pretty friendly crowd in this area, and—–’

‘And Gail assured me you also respect a person’s privacy!’ he cut in harshly.

Fin bit back the retort she had been about to make to the accusation, thinking, really thinking, about what he was saying to her. Discretion and quiet efficiency were attributes that were clearly promised by her service, and at the moment she was breaking one of her own rules and staying here when she clearly wasn’t wanted. And that was unforgivable.

She nodded abruptly. ‘That’s true too,’ she bit out tautly, so tense that she felt her back begin to ache. ‘Enjoy your stay in the area, Mr Danvers,’ she added with a formal politeness that had to be forced.

‘I intend to,’ he drawled condescendingly, his gaze sweeping over her with mocking pity, his stance one of pure challenge still.

Fin turned away with a sharp intake of her breath, conscious of that aqua-coloured gaze on her the whole of the time it took her to walk back to the van—and it seemed to take forever!

What an insufferable man! She didn’t care who he was, he had no right to treat her or anyone else in that arrogantly dismissive way that didn’t just border on being insulting but definitely was!

And she intended settling the matter of just who he was at the earliest opportunity, and had the proof one way or the other in her bedroom at home. Maybe she should have gone home earlier and done that before making this second visit to him; if what she suspected was true then she might have at least had some ammunition of her own to throw at him among all his insulting behaviour! But in a way she didn’t want her suspicion confirmed, knew things would be much easier if Jake Danvers was exactly who he said he was!

In the meantime she had to meet Derek for lunch, and the last thing she wanted was to be late for that; God knew, she was going to get enough hassle from him once he knew about the committee meeting this evening!

‘No, it’s not on, Fin,’ he reacted with predictable stubbornness when she told him about the meeting once they had eaten their sandwich lunch in the café they usually frequented for that meal. She had thought he might take the news of their broken date better on a full stomach; she had been wrong, and his handsome face flushed with his displeasure.

As Derek was tall and blond, with rugged Robert Redford-like good looks, Fin had tried, on several occasions, to convince him of how wonderful he would look up on stage himself. All to no avail. He didn’t believe, as a respectable accountant, that he should make himself conspicuous in that way, certainly didn’t believe his clients would have much respect for someone who made such a public exhibition of themselves. Fin’s ‘clients’ were apparently a different matter entirely!

As her accountant, which was how the two of them had first come to meet, he knew she only earnt a comfortable living doing what she did. In fact, on more than one occasion in the past he had accused her of merely playing at working. With walking the Siamese cat on its lead as her first job directly after lunch, Fin wasn’t so sure that he wasn’t right.

‘My mother telephoned this morning and invited us both to dinner tonight, and as we already had a date for this evening I felt confident in accepting for both of us,’ Derek continued reproachfully.

Then he shouldn’t have done, was Fin’s first thought, not when his invitation had been to take her out for a meal. But she knew she owed a lot of her reaction to still feeling disgruntled from her conversation with Jake Danvers earlier, that she normally wouldn’t have felt this resentment; she liked Derek’s parents, had always got on well with them. But Jake Danvers’s rudeness had upset her, and she had come straight from that encounter to lunch with Derek.

It was because she knew that Derek’s presumption in accepting the invitation for both of them wasn’t really the reason she felt so irritated that she tried to answer in a reasoning tone. ‘And usually I would be pleased to go, you know that,’ she placated. ‘But tonight’s meeting really is an emergency.’

Derek looked at her exasperatedly. ‘More important even than our relationship?’ he challenged sharply.

The two of them had been seeing each other fairly regularly for almost six months now, and, while she didn’t feel any wild racing of her pulse, or a deep yearning to spend every minute of every day with Derek, she did enjoy his company, and the dates they had together; apart from Derek’s resentment towards her interest in amateur dramatics, they actually had a lot in common, and she had to admit that the idea had crossed her mind that Derek might one day ask her to marry him. But his question now sounded to her suspiciously like a direct challenge—possibly a choice between being in the play or going out with Derek.

She frowned across the table at him. ‘I didn’t think they were in competition with each other,’ she said with slow uncertainty—because if they were it wasn’t a choice she would be able to make without a lot of thought!

‘They aren’t, but—– Oh, Fin!’ He sighed his impatience with her. ‘You throw yourself one hundred per cent into everything you become involved in—–’

‘I didn’t think that was such a bad thing,’ she frowned, having always tried to see through to the end any commitment she made—which was why she never made commitments lightly.

‘It is if that one hundred per cent doesn’t include me!’ Derek complained irritably, his hand moving to clasp hers across the table. ‘Fin, we’re supposed to be a couple—–’

‘You’re being unfair now, Derek,’ she cut in dismissively. ‘I don’t complain about the fact that you play squash once a week, that you go to the gym three nights a week after work—–’

‘Because they were well-established patterns of my life when we first started going out together,’ he claimed defensively. ‘You surely aren’t suggesting I give those up?’

Heaven forbid! ‘Of course I’m not.’ She shook her head with a rueful smile, gently removing her hand from within his; this was only a café, in the middle of town, in the middle of the day, not a romantic candle-lit restaurant! ‘I’m just claiming the same right to have my own interests without—complaint from you. I was already involved with the Sovereign Players when we met, too,’ she rushed on as she could see he was about to pick her up on her choice of words; but what else could she call it? ‘Admittedly I wasn’t actually acting in the last production,’ she conceded. ‘But I was involved.’

‘But—–’

‘I really have to go, Derek,’ she told him briskly after a brief glance at her wrist-watch. ‘I have a lot to get done this afternoon.’

He eyed her resentfully as she prepared to leave. ‘And dinner with my parents this evening?’

‘I’ve just finished explaining why I can’t go out with you this evening,’ she said exasperatedly, not at all impressed with the scowling displeasure on his face. ‘Give your parents my apologies. They’ll understand,’ she said with certainty as he still glared at her.

‘Maybe they will,’ he grated with a nod of his head. ‘But I don’t! Perhaps you need to sit down and rethink your priorities, Fin,’ he suggested hardly.

She grimaced at his stubborn anger. ‘I made a commitment when I went on to the committee of the society; nothing in my life has changed for me to even think about breaking that commitment.’ She sighed her impatience.

Derek’s expression remained implacable. ‘What about your commit—–? Is that what all this is about, Fin?’ he asked with sudden suspicion, eyes narrowed. ‘Are you trying to force some sort of declaration from me about our relationship by your stubbornness over this? Because if you are, it’s—–’

‘I’m not!’ she snapped, furious—if he could only see it!—at even the suggestion that she would even think of stooping to such subterfuge. She wasn’t even sure what her answer would be if he ever should propose, let alone want to force the issue in any way! She was doing exactly what she claimed she was: honouring a commitment. ‘I think we had better just leave this subject alone for now, Derek,’ she told him tautly. ‘Before one of us—–’ and she wasn’t sure which one it was going to be! ‘—says something they will later regret.’ She drew in a controlling breath. ‘Why don’t you telephone me later, and—–?’

‘You probably won’t be at home!’ He eyed her resentfully still.

It was obvious, to Fin, at least, that he wasn’t in the mood to be reasoned with at all, that they were only making the situation worse by continuing to talk at all. ‘Derek, maybe you’re the one who needs to sit down quietly and rethink your priorities,’ Fin said quietly.

He looked alarmed at the finality in her tone. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I’m not really sure.’ She frowned, chewing on her bottom lip. ‘Maybe—–’

‘Look, I’m sorry if I’ve been a bore, darling,’ he cajoled regretfully, reaching across the table for her hand once again, smiling encouragingly. ‘Maybe I have been a bit unreasonable—all right,’ he nodded, his smile a little strained now, ‘a lot unreasonable,’ he conceded tightly. ‘I’m a bad-tempered …!’ He shook his head self-disgustedly. ‘I know it’s no excuse for my behaviour just now, but I’ve had one hell of a morning; please forgive me?’ He attempted a little-boy look that didn’t quite come off—perhaps he was right about his decision not to go on the stage! ‘Of course I’ll call you later, Fin,’ he smiled again. ‘Just put my foolishness down to disappointment at not being able to spend the evening with you after all.’

And his parents, she could have added, but didn’t … God, he made it sound as if they would be forgoing a romantic evening together, when in reality it would be nothing of the sort, not under the watchful eyes of his parents! She liked the Soameses very much, found his father sweet, if a little henpecked, his mother always warm and friendly. But, as Derek was their only child, and at twenty-seven he was still a bachelor, they tended to view all his girlfriends with an eye to their being his future wife. And, although Fin knew by the warm welcome she always received from them that they approved of her, it was still a little unnerving to be constantly under inspection when in their company. Or, at least, to feel as if she was.

She gently squeezed Derek’s hand before releasing it. ‘I shouldn’t be too late back tonight, if you do want to call me …?’

He nodded, obviously reassured by her smile. ‘And if you do manage to finish early enough we could still go out for a quiet drink together.’

‘Yes,’ Fin agreed vaguely, not wishing to get into another argument, but already sure in her own mind that the meeting tonight would go on for some time. But there was no point in upsetting Derek again now by telling him that, and she did have an appointment to get to … ‘Talk to you later,’ she told him distractedly as she bent to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

Fido, the Siamese, enjoyed his walk that afternoon, as usual. His name wasn’t really Fido, it was something exotically unpronounceable, which his stockbroker owner shortened affectionately to Filly. But Fin called him Fido for the simple pleasure of watching the expression on people’s faces when she was out walking him on the extended lead she kept in the van for him, and she brought him back to her by calling out ‘Fido’, and this arrogant-looking Siamese cat appeared from whatever spot he had been exploring at the time-usually the dustbins!

Richard, the cat’s owner, assured her that his little darling could only eat fresh fish lightly steamed, but Fin knew from experience that the ‘little darling’ would sink his delicate little white teeth into anything, given the chance—including her ankles if he was feeling particularly disdainful of the world. Which he very often was!

Maybe in future she should start to call him Jake …!

She had deliberately not thought of how objectionable his behaviour had been during her second visit this morning, but he really was the most arrogant, insufferable, totally obnoxious individual she had ever had the misfortune—–