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'Mm.'
Perhaps he thought she had been; after all she hadn't told anyone she was going down to the cabin. Perhaps Rafe had thought she was still in her room. But he hadn't bothered to find out! Arrogant devil. 'Did you tell him why you were calling?'
Trisha nodded. 'I explained that we were all going to the pool. He said he didn't want to disturb you.'
'Oh well,’ Hazel shrugged, 'I could probably have done with the rest, especially as we were going out tonight.' She sounded calm enough, but inside she was seething. If anything Rafe was interfering even more in her life than he had been three years ago, and it couldn't be allowed to continue.
'That's what we thought. Have you given any more thought to what you're going to do now that you're home?'
'Rafe's asked me to stay on as his secretary.'
Trisha's eyes widened. 'I bet that doesn't please Celia.'
Hazel grimaced. 'That's the understatement of the year!'
'But you're staying anyway?'
Hazel nodded, knowing that she could stand any of Celia's insults if it meant she could stay at Savage House—with Rafe.
Trisha squeezed her hand. 'Good for you!’
'Here we are,' Carl put her drink in front of her. 'Are you up to dancing?'
Hazel laughed. 'I'm not an invalid, you know!' She stood up, going with him willingly on to the dance floor. 'Rafe tends to exaggerate: things,' she explained lightly.
Carl held her close in his arms as they moved to the music. 'Like I said, I can understand that. Your—er— your cousin Celia is very beautiful,' he added.
'Very,' she agreed distantly.
'She was very charming to me just now.'
Obviously not what he had been expecting. She wondered what stories he had heard about Celia; it couldn't have been anything good, by his surprise at her charm. ‘Celia can be very charming,' she agreed. When she wanted something, which made her wonder why she had bothered with Carl. He wasn't like the wild permissive crowd she usually went about with. Hazel felt that Carl would be almost as shocked as Sara had been by the nude bathing.
Carl's boyish face was flushed. 'Will she be coming here tonight?'
She was beginning to feel chilled by his interest in Celia. 'Didn't you ask her?'
‘I didn't like to.'
‘Oh, you should have done,' she encouraged with a trace of sarcasm. 'I'm sure she wouldn't have minded.' This was something she had never come up against before, losing her date to the devious Celia. And it wasn't an experience she was enjoying, even if Carl could only ever have been a mild flirtation on her part.
He looked down at her eagerly. 'Do you really think so?'
'Oh, I'm sure of it.' Celia must certainly have been at her most charming to have besotted him in such a short time. And that made Hazel suspicious. Celia didn't usually put herself out for the friends of Rafe's unwanted ward.
'We went swimming,' Carl told her, obviously deciding to change the subject. 'We did call you.'
'So Trisha said.' The evening no longer had the enjoyment she had been expecting. After Rafe's chilly behaviour towards her she had needed a bolster to her self-confidence, but it seemed she wasn't going to get it from Carl.
Her hunger had been replaced with a raging thirst and she drank the Bacardi and Coke Carl had got her as soon as they returned to the table. After that the drinks flowed thick and fast, and by ten o'clock she was well on the way to being drunk. Not that she was unused to drinking, she had often attended parties with Jonathan while in America and it had seemed only natural to have one or two drinks while she was there.
But tonight was different; tonight she had a dent in her ego the size of a crater and the drink was helping to fill it. The men flocking around her helped too, demanding all her attention, She danced with one after the other of them until finally she was dancing with Carl again.
'You seem to be enjoying yourself,' he remarked coolly.
She laughed gaily. Tm having a wonderful time. It's almost as if I'd never been away.'
'I noticed,' he said dryly.
Hazel threw back her head, her eyes shining brightly. ‘You surely aren't annoyed? I haven't seen these people for years.'
'I'm not annoyed, I'm------ Why, there's your cousin!' He was looking over her shoulder across the room.
She didn't bother to turn and look. 'How nice for you,' she remarked tartly
Carl looked puzzled. 'Why should it be nice for me? It's just one more man to hold your attention away from me. What's the matter with you anyway? You------'
'Man?' she frowned. 'What man?'
'Your cousin Rafe, of course,' he said impatiently. 'Now what's wrong with------'
'Rafe?' she queried sharply. 'What are you talking about?'
He sighed. 'He just came in, with the most ravishing redhead,' he added.
'Rafe did?' Her head shot round just in time for her to see Rafe and his partner being shown to a table. Carl was right, the redhead was beautiful. And she was clinging to Rafe's arm in a way that Hazel didn't like. 'Oh!' She turned angrily away.
Carl looked at her closely. 'What's wrong?'
The smile was back on her face, rather set maybe, but at least it was a smile. 'Nothing is wrong. I just didn't realise Rafe was coming here tonight,' she explained flippantly.
'Does it matter?'
'No, it doesn't matter,' she lied. 'Come on, let's go back to the others.'
Once again she became the life and soul of the party, talking excitedly and downing each drink bought for her—and pointedly ignoring Rafe. But she was ever conscious of him and the husky laugh of his companion, a laugh that grated on her nerves. Rafe danced little, but when he did she always knew he was on the dance floor, only feet away from her as she danced with one partner or another, but never close enough for them to speak.
'I can't believe how beautiful you are,' Peter, a boy she had known most of her life, remarked as they danced close together.
She smiled up at him. 'You say the nicest things,' she purred.
He chuckled. 'And you've changed too. You never used to let me say things like that.'
'Maybe because the last time you said it I was fifteen years old with pigtails and braces on my teeth.'
'You still looked beautiful to me,' he murmured against her ear.
She swayed in his arms. 'I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not.'
'Oh, it is,' he said huskily.
'Excuse me,' cut in a terse familiar voice. 'Could I just borrow my ward for a few minutes? I want to introduce her to a friend of mine.'
Peter let her go instantly. 'Of course, Mr Savage. Nice to see you again.'
Rafe nodded dismissal. Thank you, Peter.' He took Hazel's arm in a firm grip. 'Excuse us.'
Hazel felt herself propelled across the room, a stupid smile across her face. 'Where are we going?' she asked dazedly.
He pulled her sharply against his side. 'We're going outside to try and sober you up. If I'd had any idea of the idiot you were going to make of yourself I wouldn't have let you out of the house.' He opened the door and ushered her out into the cool air. He swung her round to face him. 'Letting a comparative stranger------'
'He isn't a stranger! He——'
'A comparative stranger maul you about in that way,' he continued firmly. 'He was almost making love to you right there in front of everyone.'
'Don't exaggerate!' she burst out angrily, lowering her voice as another couple walked past them. 'We were dancing, that's all.'
'Dancing!' he scoffed, his eyes running over her disgustedly. 'It wouldn't be quite so bad if he was the man you came here with. He must be about the tenth different man I've seen you with tonight.'
'Dancing,' she insisted.
'Like hell!' he muttered savagely. 'How would you like to dance with me like that?' he demanded.
The thought terrified her. 'Don't be silly, Rafe!' She gave a quivery laugh.
'I'm not being silly, Hazel, I'm furiously angry. Everyone has seen the exhibition you're making of yourself.'
'And of you.' She shook her head disbelievingly. 'That's the real trouble, isn't it, Rafe? I'm dragging the Savage name into disrepute. All those people in there know I'm your ward. That's what you're really worried about.'
'That's a lie. I'm worried about what you're doing to yourself. I've never seen you act this way before.'
'Haven't you?' she asked in a choked voice. 'Haven't you really? I seem to remember another occasion when I acted even worse than this.' She threw back her head in challenge. 'But we don't talk about that, do we? We pretend it never happened.'
He moved away, his broad shoulders turned firmly away from her. 'Leave it, Hazel!' he ordered gruffly.
'Leave it, leave it!' she cried. 'That's always your answer, isn't it? Leave it. Well, I'm not going to leave it any more! I—~'
'Rafe darling,' purred a deep sultry voice, 'I've been looking everywhere for you.'
Hazel turned to look at the beautiful redhead who was Rafe's chosen partner of the evening. Her hair was a bright glistening cap, her beautiful face perfectly made up. The gown she wore was buttercup yellow and should have clashed with her hair, but didn't. Hazel searched that face for some sign of hostility towards her, after all she had taken Rafe away from her side, for whatever reason. But there was no hostility, only friendly curiosity. Strangely that made Hazel feel more uneasy than outright antagonism.
Rafe smiled at the woman, a smile of affection. 'My ward was feeling—unwell. I brought her out here for some air.'
Big blue eyes turned to Hazel. 'What a shame! I hope you're feeling better now?'
Hazel swallowed with difficulty. 'Much better, thank you.' And she did, suddenly stone cold sober, the ache in the pit of her stomach telling her she still hadn't eaten.
The other woman smiled. 'I'm Janine Clarke, by the way.'
'Hazel Stanford,' Hazel supplied softly.
'Oh, I know that,' Janine laughed. 'Rafe's told me a lot about you.'
