After The Loving

‘Raff, why don’t you get lost?’ Court invited irritably. ‘Bryna and I have some business to discuss. Not that sort of business, you fool,’ he admonished as the other man raised disbelieving brows in Bryna’s direction. ‘Bryna runs the Fairchild Agency.’

The dark brow cleared. ‘I’ve heard of it,’ Raff drawled, turning to Bryna. ‘I apologise for the assumption I made just now.’

Being a model, Bryna had received her fair share of insults over erroneous assumptions of what her profession actually entailed, but never before had a man presumed that about her without knowing a thing about her!

She turned to Court Stevens with frosty eyes. ‘I really do have to go,’ she snapped. ‘Perhaps you could give me a call and we could get together to discuss this another time.’ She was probably walking away from a contract that could mean even bigger things for her agency if Court Stevens was pleased with the work they did for him this time, but she wasn’t going to stay around and be insulted by a man who acted as if he owned half of London—and probably did!

‘Now look what you’ve done!’ Court turned accusing eyes on the other man. ‘Will you just get out of here?’

It was testament to how deep the friendship was between the two men that Raff Gallagher didn’t take exception to the way Court had been trying to get rid of him ever since he had interrupted them. But at that moment Bryna was too angry to care how close the two men were, as she stood up to leave.

‘Please stay, Miss Fairchild,’ Raff Gallagher drawled as he stood up, the formality deliberate, she was sure. ‘And please accept my apology for interrupting the two of you. Game of golf tomorrow, Court?’

‘OK,’ Court sighed unenthusiastically. ‘But you’re starting with a handicap.’

‘Don’t I always,’ the other man mocked. ‘Miss Fairchild,’ he nodded dismissively before strolling across the restaurant to join two men at a table who had obviously been waiting for him.

‘He always wins, too,’ muttered Court. ‘Sit down, Bryna. Please,’ he persuaded.

She did so slowly, pointedly turning her chair so that she didn’t have to look at Raff Gallagher.

‘We became friends in our first week of boarding school after he bowled me out at cricket and I hit him with my cricket bat in the changing room,’ Court sighed. ‘I broke his nose.’

Bryna had noticed that slight bump on the hawklike nose, laughing softly now as she envisaged the two little boys glaring at each other across a cricket bat, both taking their aggression at being away from home out on the other. ‘Stranger meetings have formed just as strong a friendship, I’m sure,’ she teased.

Court smiled, his eyes brimming with laughter. ‘It wasn’t the fight that caused the friendship,’ he assured her. ‘What did that was the fact that Raff told everyone he’d fallen over and hit his nose. If he hadn’t I would have been expelled in my first week of school!’

Two little boys who had bonded a lifetime friendship through resentment and pain. Maybe Raff Gallagher did have some redeeming qualities after all. One just had to dig deep to find them!

She made a point of not looking his way as she and Court got down to the serious business of discussing the models. Nevertheless, she was aware of the exact moment Raff Gallagher stood up to approach their table before leaving.

Grey eyes delved into her soul a second time. ‘We’ll meet again, Miss Fairchild,’ he murmured as he bent over the hand he had lifted to his mouth, his lips cool and yet moist.

‘Give me a chance, Raff!’ Court complained.

His friend chuckled huskily. ‘The choice will be Bryna’s,’ he said softly, meeting her gaze once again with compelling intensity before taking his leave.

‘It’s a no contest,’ groaned Court resignedly. ‘It always is.’

‘I can assure you Mr Gallagher holds no interest for me,’ Bryna dismissed primly.

When she got back to her office a box containing a single red rose lay on her desk. There was no card with it, but she guessed that it wasn’t from Court; he was the type of man who would sign his name with a flourish to the accompanying card if he found a woman attractive enough to send her flowers.

Half an hour later two more roses arrived, half an hour after that another three, then another three, and another three, until by four-thirty she had the round dozen.

Her secretary/receptionist, Gilly, was agog to know who had sent them. When the man himself arrived at five o’clock neither woman was in any doubt as to who the sender had been. When Raff courteously invited Bryna out to dinner she had breathlessly accepted, her earlier antagonism forgotten; she had never met anyone quite like this man before.

She still hadn’t met anyone like him, and even when he was long gone from her life, she knew she would never meet anyone like him again.

CHAPTER TWO

‘KATE tells me the two of you had lunch together today,’ Raff said enquiringly as he sat down opposite her.

Bryna met his gaze guardedly, her heart skipping its usual beat as she looked at him, still affected, even after six months of knowing him intimately, by that compelling power that surrounded him. Tonight, dressed in black evening suit and snowy white shirt, he appeared even more devastating than usual.

‘That’s right, we did,’ she confirmed coolly, wondering where the conversation was leading to.

Raff gave an inclination of his head, his mouth twisted into a rueful smile. ‘She seems slightly annoyed with you.’

She and Kate had parted a little stiffly outside the restaurant, the younger girl seeming to blame Bryna for the fact that her father hadn’t fallen in love with her!

Bryna shrugged. ‘She hoped I would talk to you about her moving in with Brenda next term,’ she told him truthfully.

His eyes became suddenly flinty. ‘And what did you tell her?’

She maintained her calm poise in the face of his obvious displeasure. ‘What do you think I told her?’ she drawled.

Raff relaxed slightly, his long length stretched out comfortably in the armchair. ‘I think you agree with me, that young lady is not the choice of flatmate I want for Kate.’

And what Raff wanted he invariably got, Bryna had found these last months. She was a prime example of that, in the past having been able to freeze off even the most ardent of men, and yet she and Raff had been lovers within days of their meeting. And far from feeling inadequate as she had always imagined she would, she had felt complete for the first time in her life! It had been the same every time they made love.

‘Perhaps not Brenda,’ she agreed. ‘But I think Kate is determined to get a place of her own, and she is over eighteen——’

‘I think I know what’s best for my children, Bryna,’ he bit out cuttingly, standing up abruptly. ‘We should be going now,’ he added curtly. ‘At the moment we’re politely late, any later and we may as well not bother!’

Despite the fact that the dig about their lateness was aimed at her she wanted to say ‘then let’s not bother!’ She wanted to be in his arms tonight, close to him in the only way he allowed any woman to be close to him. She had long ago ceased to be upset by the way he cut her out of showing any interest in his children’s activities; it was far from the first time he had done so. To her it only served to emphasise the transient role she played in his life.

And because of the child she herself carried inside her she didn’t suggest they miss the party, but slipped her arms into the coat he held out for her, the suede soft and supple against her body. ‘I’m sure Court won’t mind our tardiness,’ she shrugged lightly.

She wished he would smile, because it completely transformed his face when he did, alleviating some of the harshness, lending warmth to eyes the colour of slate, the harshness of his mouth softening as deep grooves were etched into the leanness of his cheeks.

Instead he nodded tersely. ‘After all these years Court has come to expect my rudeness,’ he said drily. ‘I wouldn’t want to disappoint him!’

The two men were still the unlikeliest couple to have found such an enduring friendship that Bryna had ever met, Raff being hard where Court was gentle, Raff blunt to the point of rudeness where Court was always kind. Bryna had even wondered, when loving Raff hurt too badly, why it couldn’t have been Court she fell in love with that day. But she hadn’t, and so the two of them had become friends instead.

‘What did the doctor say?’

Her smile faded as she looked up at Raff with startled eyes. ‘Sorry?’ she frowned, her hands shaking slightly as she held her coat around her as they braved the icy-cold early December winds to go out to the waiting Jaguar, the sudden chill not leaving her body even as Raff turned on the ignition and the burst of warm air filled the interior.

‘You told me last night that the doctor was going to tell you the results of your tests today,’ he explained raspingly. ‘You did keep the appointment, didn’t you?’ The lights on the dashboard illuminated his frown.

‘Yes, of course.’ Bryna huddled down into the collar of her coat, the chill seeming to have permeated her bones.

She inwardly bemoaned the fact that the intimacy of their relationship told Raff without words exactly when her body had failed her. She had assured him that it occasionally happened, although he had been aware that it never had in their previous four months together. When it happened again he had been the one to urge her to consult a doctor.

‘I’m anaemic, that’s all,’ she evaded. ‘It can have that effect. The doctor has given me some vitamins,’ she added truthfully.

Raff gave her a probing look. ‘You do look a little pale,’ he conceded.

She looked pale because she was still suffering from the shock of knowing she was pregnant; even the call to her parents telling them she would be home for the weekend hadn’t made the baby she carried seem more real to her. She was sure there would be visible signs of it soon enough, but at the moment, with her body still so slender, and no ill-effects such as morning sickness to cope with, she couldn’t help questioning the accuracy of the doctor’s diagnosis.

Except that she felt different emotionally, filled with a tranquillity and inner peace she had thought never to know. Maternal instinct had previously only been an expression to her, but now she knew exactly what it was, the completely unselfish love for a human being you just knew was inside you despite there being no visible signs of its existence.

‘Warmer now?’ Raff cut in on her musings. ‘You seem a little distracted this evening,’ he frowned as she raised questioning brows. ‘You shivered earlier, I wondered if you were warmer now,’ he explained.

‘Fine,’ she gave him a dreamy smile. ‘Isn’t it a lovely evening?’

‘It’s been raining most of the day and they forecast sleet for tonight,’ he drawled derisively.

Bryna blushed self-consciously. ‘I happen to like rain,’ she defended, her golden bubble firmly burst.

‘And sleet?’ Raff arched dark brows.

She realised it was ridiculous to expect Raff Gallagher to act like a giddy lover, but sometimes she wished he wasn’t quite so controlled and cynical all the time. It would be nice to sometimes relax with him completely and show him how much she cared.

But it was impossible with a man as armoured against the softer feelings as Raff was, and she knew it was only the child she carried inside her that made her hunger for that closeness now.

‘No,’ she conceded ruefully. ‘But maybe this bad weather is an indication that we’re going to have a white Christmas this year.’

‘And then you wouldn’t be able to get to your parents’ house for the holiday,’ he rasped.

‘No.’ She was tempted to tell him she wouldn’t mind that too much as she was going home this weekend anyway, but on their way to a party didn’t seem the appropriate time to tell him that.

‘Of course you’re welcome to spend Christmas with us if anything goes wrong with your plans,’ he invited smoothly.

If he had issued that invitation a few weeks ago she would have been tempted to accept no matter how out of place she felt at the time, but he hadn’t suggested it before, neither had he shown any sign of displeasure that they wouldn’t be spending the holiday together. ‘I don’t think so, thank you,’ she refused lightly. ‘Christmas is a time for families, isn’t it?’

His jaw tightened. ‘Yes, I suppose so.’

The drive from Raff’s house to Court’s apartment was a short one, and Bryna was relieved to escape the suddenly icy atmosphere that had developed in the car after her refusal. She didn’t know what Raff was so annoyed about—his invitation had lacked warmth, to say the least! And it was also a little late in coming, when he knew she had made her plans weeks ago.

‘My favourite lady!’ Court greeted her warmly as soon as they were admitted to his apartment, kissing her lightly on the lips as he took her coat himself. ‘I thought you were never going to get here,’ he grinned at her. ‘It’s Raff’s fault you’re late, of course——’

‘Of course,’ the other man drawled coolly.

‘Only because you knew the sole reason I arranged this party at all was so that I could ask Bryna to dance and hold her in my arms for a while!’ Court challenged firmly. ‘Bryna?’

‘I’d love to dance,’ she accepted laughingly. The lounge of Court’s apartment was completely cleared of furniture, a dozen or so couples moving sensuously together in there to the sound of a romantic love song.

‘You look lovely tonight.’ Court looked down at her appreciatively.

Raff had told her the same thing earlier about the purple dress that made her eyes appear the same colour, but somehow Court’s compliment seemed less perfunctory. Or maybe tonight she was just looking for faults in her relationship with Raff; the pity of it was it was so easy to find them!

Court looked at her searchingly. ‘There’s a sort of glow to you … Oh God, I haven’t stepped in with my size tens, have I?’ he groaned as a blush darkened her cheeks.

‘Raff and I came straight here, if that’s what you mean,’ she told him. ‘I’m afraid it was my fault we got here late; I arrived late at Raff’s.’ Because of the telephone call to her parents, both of them concerned—if delighted!—at her sudden need to go home for the weekend. It had taken her some time to convince them that nothing had gone drastically wrong in her life to warrant the visit.

Court shook his head. ‘I’m surprised Raff hasn’t told you you work too hard.’

‘He has,’ she smiled. ‘But as he wouldn’t tolerate interference in his business neither will I!’

His friend chuckled softly. ‘No wonder he finds you so fascinating; all his other women were quite willing to forgo their own plans to pander to his whims!’

‘I sometimes wonder if you two love or hate each other!’ she mocked.

‘Love, of course,’ Court drawled. ‘Although if looks could kill I’d be dead now!’ he groaned as he glanced over Bryna’s shoulder. ‘Unless it’s you he’s upset at? Maybe he really didn’t like your being late earlier.’

He hadn’t seemed too worried at the time, but from the way he was glaring at the two of them now something had upset him! Perhaps he was still annoyed about Christmas?

He stood beside the bar in the adjoining dining-room, a drink remaining untouched in his hand as Rosemary Chater did her best to attract him to her fiery-haired beauty. For all the notice Raff took of her she might not have been wearing the most low-cut gown Bryna had ever seen, or been wearing that look of open invitation on her beautiful face. Raff’s gaze was fixed on Court and Bryna as they moved slowly to the music.

Maybe he really was angry about her refusal to spend Christmas with him and Kate and Paul, but with Christmas only two weeks away he had left the invitation late enough!

She smiled at Court. ‘No, I think it’s you he’s angry with,’ she teased him.

‘Well, I did beat him at golf today …!’

‘You didn’t!’ she laughed disbelievingly; Court had been trying to win a round of golf against Raff ever since she had known the two of them.

‘I did,’ Court grinned triumphantly. ‘Of course his mind didn’t seem to be altogether on the game,’ he admitted with some reluctance. ‘But who’s to say I haven’t always lost in the past because of pressures of work?’

‘I didn’t think Raff had any pressures of work now,’ Bryna frowned. Raff had employed a very capable assistant four months ago, and while she might not like Stuart Hillier very much, and found his smooth charm more than a little overpowering, she knew he was good at his job, and that he had taken over a lot of the pressure of the solitary reign over his business empire that Raff had previously refused to relinquish. Everything had seemed to be going so smoothly in that direction the last four months.

Court shrugged. ‘How should I know how well it is or isn’t going? He never discusses business with me. Maybe it wasn’t business worrying him at all, but he certainly had something on his mind.’

Her, and the fact that, despite their agreement that when the affair was over for one, or both, of them, they would admit that honestly, Raff seemed to be having trouble breaking the news to her. Maybe he did care for her in his own distant way and didn’t want to hurt her. He might even have guessed at some of the love she felt for him. But she was soon going to have to decide if she walked away from him with some of her pride intact, or if she waited the short time until he ended things once and for all.

‘Hey, have I said something I shouldn’t?’ Court frowned down at her concernedly.

Bryna shook off her mood of depression, knowing he had only confirmed for her what she already knew, smiling brightly to dispel his concern. ‘Shall we go and join him before Rosemary falls out of her dress completely?’ she suggested drily as the music came to an end.

Court groaned. ‘I’m afraid she had herself lined up as next in line to share his bed before he met you.’

And like a vulture the other woman was now circling, waiting for the affair to end, trying to give it a helping hand if she could! And she was certainly going all out to do that at the moment.

From the first Bryna had found the world of cynicism, bitchiness, and self that Raff inhabited a little overwhelming, although she was hardened to a certain degree herself from her years as a top-class model. But almost every woman she met clearly let her, and Raff, know that they wanted him too, only the fact that he showed no interest in returning their attraction giving her comfort during the last months.

Until now. Raff had ceased to look bored by Rosemary Chater, in fact as Court and Bryna moved to join the other couple he led the other woman on to the dance floor, seeming to enjoy the way her body instantly melded to every contour of his.

‘She can only cause trouble if you let her,’ Court spoke quietly at Bryna’s side, also watching the other couple with narrowed eyes.

Bryna turned to him with a grateful smile. ‘Then I won’t let her.’

He raised blond brows. ‘Is it as easy to dismiss as that?’

Easy? She hated the way the other woman moved against Raff with deliberate seductiveness, but what could she do about it when Raff was enjoying it? She wasn’t a fool, to make a scene about what was, for all the sensuousness of movement, just a dance; she knew that would be the surest way to drive Raff away from her. He hated scenes—he had once told her his wife had caused several before the two of them decided to live together but go their separate ways, to have their own lovers.

‘No, it isn’t easy,’ she gave Court a tight smile. ‘Why don’t we go through and help ourselves to some of that lovely supper you’ve laid out in the other room?’ It was almost ten o’clock and she hadn’t eaten anything since lunchtime. So much for the doctor’s confidence that she would maintain a healthy diet!

‘Is everything okay between you and Raff?’ Court eyed her curiously as she nibbled uninterestedly on a sandwich.

Her eyes were overbright as she looked up at him. “’The Queen is dead. Long live the Queen."’ She looked pointedly at Rosemary Chater as she said the latter, too numb to even sound bitter.

Court looked much older when the boyish humour deserted his face. ‘Are you sure?’

Her heart was breaking, the tears threatening to cascade down her cheeks—and she was incongruously trying to work out how she could bite into the cold chicken leg she held in her hand, without choking on it! ‘Have you ever known him to behave like that in front of me before?’ She felt sick as she watched Raff nuzzle against the other woman’s silky throat.

‘Hell!’ muttered Court furiously as he followed her stricken gaze. ‘I’ll go and break them up——’

‘No.’ Her hand on his arm stopped him. ‘Would you please just get my coat and call a taxi to take me home?’

‘I’ll take you——’

‘This is your party, Court,’ she reminded him huskily, no longer able to look at Raff with the other woman. ‘The host shouldn’t walk out on his guests.’ She tried to sound teasing, but to her dismay she just sounded forlorn.

Court’s mouth tightened. ‘None of this lot cares about that, half of them wouldn’t even know I’d gone!’

‘I’d really rather go on my own, thank you,’ she refused as gently as she could, sure that if she didn’t get out of here soon she was going to make an absolute fool of herself.

Court looked as if he were about to argue again, but the pleading in her eyes silenced him. Bryna kept her face averted from the couple dancing as she and Court moved through to the entrance hall to collect her coat.

Raff had done to her what they had always agreed wouldn’t happen, publicly humiliated her by turning to another woman when the two of them had arrived here together.

Court put his hands warmly on her shoulders as he came to stand in front of her after helping her on with her coat. ‘If you ever need a shoulder to cry on …’ he told her affectionately.

‘I know I can call you,’ she gave him a wan smile. ‘You——’

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ rasped a harsh voice Bryna recognised only too well.

She took a second to regain control before turning to face Raff, blinking a little uncertainly as she saw the fury blazing in the depths of his eyes. ‘I was just about to leave——’

Cool grey eyes turned to Court. ‘You too?’ Raff bit out coldly.

Court met the challenge in his friend’s gaze unflinchingly. ‘I wanted to go with her, but Bryna insisted I stay here.’

Raff’s mouth twisted. ‘Running out on me, Bryna?’ he taunted.

‘I——’

‘Good God, man, what did you expect her to do?’ Court exploded. ‘Tap you on the shoulder while you were making love to Rosemary to tell you she was leaving!’

‘I wasn’t making love to her, damn it,’ Raff ground out, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

‘Then you were doing a good job of acting as if you were!’ his friend accused heatedly.

Grey eyes flickered coldly. ‘Bryna?’

She swallowed hard, not enjoying being the bone of contention between the two friends. ‘I really think it would be best if I left——’

‘Then I’m coming with you,’ rasped Raff.

‘—and you stayed,’ she finished dully. ‘There’s no point in our both ruining our evening. “The night is still young,” and all that,’ she added brittlely.

Raff strode purposefully across to grasp her arm in his hand. ‘I said I’m coming with you!’

‘Maybe she doesn’t want to go with you?’ Court told him caustically.

His mouth tightened. ‘She came with me, she’ll leave with me.’

Bryna frowned up at him. Why was he doing this? Couldn’t he see this was a perfect way out for him, why drag out their parting any longer than they had to? But she could see by the inflexibility of his jaw that he was determined to leave with her.

‘Thank you, Court,’ she squeezed his arm reassuringly. ‘Raff will take me home.’

‘I’ll call you tomorrow,’ Raff told the other man gratingly.