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He had made one last effort on Monday night to try and get her enter into a more physical relationship, but last night he had merely turned his back on her and gone to sleep. Hazel had been the one left lying awake, sleep evading her into the small hours of the morning.
The trouble with her plan for revenge on Rafe was that she seemed to be hurting herself more than anyone else. She was the one left wondering how often Rafe visited Janine Clarke, and what that relationship meant to him. She was the one who had to hold herself back from telling him of her love for him, of the need she had for his arms about her and his lips on hers.
And now today was her birthday and Rafe hadn't even bothered to send her a card. The breakfast table had been laden with cards and presents from friends and she had opened each one with growing excitement, until the last one had revealed that none of them was from Rafe.
She wiped the tears away as the dining-room door opened. Rafe wandered in, his mind obviously on the letter in his hand. 'Good morning,' he said formally, sounding preoccupied. 'I have some mail I want you to deal with this morning.'
'I've been doing the mail every day,' she answered, on the defensive straight away.
‘I know that, but these arrived this morning.' He looked up. 'I also wanted to make sure you're going to be in to dinner this evening.'
Hope entered her eyes. ‘Of course I will be, if you want me to.'
'I have some people coming in this evening, it would look strange if my wife wasn't here as my hostess,' he added callously.
‘Oh.' She couldn't hide her disappointment. Rafe didn't give a damn about her birthday; he hadn't even noticed the cards and presents in front of her. 'Perhaps you would prefer Mrs Clarke to be your hostess.'
'Perhaps,' he nodded agreement. 'But as I said, I think it would look odd if you weren't present.'
Her mouth set in an angry line. 'I'll be there.'
'Good.' He turned to leave. 'I'll be in the study when you're ready to do the mail.'
'All right.’ She waited until he had left before she burst into tears. How could she continue to live in the same house as him, share his bed, and yet receive not one word of tenderness from him?
She loved him, wanted him, and she couldn't bear to be like this with him. But how could she show him she was sorry? There seemed only one way, and she wasn't even sure he wanted her that way any more, not when he had the more than willing Janine.
'Now then, Miss Hazel,' Sara touched her gently on the shoulder. 'This is no time for tears. Today is your birthday, you should be happy.'
'How can I be happy when Rafe wishes he'd never married me?' she cried, burying her face in Sara's apron.
'Now don't take on so.' Sara cradled her in her arms. 'You know Mr Rafe cares for you.'
'Oh yes,' Ha»el said bitterly. 'He cares for me, he cares so much that he doesn't mind everyone knowing about his mistress!'
She heard the housekeeper gasp. 'Now you know that can't be right! He would never do a thing like that to you.'
'He would if I made him, if I forced him into the arms of someone else. And I have, Sara, I've driven him away from me.' Hazel stood up to stare sightlessly out of the window. 'And you know how, don't you?' she said chokingly. 'I should think the whole household knows what's going on.'
'Well, I------'
Hazel gave a choked laugh. 'Don't bother to deny it, Sara. Rafe's temper has been foul the last few days and he would hardly be like that if everything were fine between us.'
'Everyone has to adapt to marriage, it doesn't become happy overnight.'
'Perhaps not,' Hazel agreed, realising she had perhaps said too much, was probably embarrassing the poor woman. 'I have to go to the study to help Rafe with the mail, perhaps you could see that these things are taken up to my bedroom. I don't have the time right now.'
'Wouldn't you like your cards put out down here? I could------'
'No, thank you,' she refused abruptly.
Hazel dressed with extra care that night, anxious that Rafe should be proud of the way she looked. Her gown was buttercup-yellow in colour, the chiffon floating like a cloud down to her ankles. The colour did wonders for her tan and made her hair look like spun gold.
Rafe came into the room just as she was putting the finishing touches to her lip-gloss. His eyes darkened as he looked at her, 'You look beautiful,' he told her huskily.
Her brown eyes glowed. 'Do I, Rafe? Do I really?' She so much wanted Ids approval.
‘You know you do.’ He still looked at her, his eyes brooding.
'But I want you to think so,' she said throatily, moving to stand in front of him, her face raised invitingly. 'I want you to like how I look.'
'Why?' He ignored her parted lips. 'So that you can say no to me again?'
'No, I------'
'Because I can save you the bother,' he put her firmly away from him. 'The only thing I'm interested in at the moment is having a shower and getting ready for dinner. You've made it perfectly obvious what you want from this marriage, and I want you to know that's just fine with me.'
'Oh, Rafe, don't------'
'Wait for me here, Hazel,' he said coldly. 'We'll go down and greet our guests together.'
Within five minutes he was back in the room, shedding his bathrobe and donning his brown shirt and cream suit with no sign that her presence in the room embarrassed him in the slightest.
'By the way,' he tucked his shirt into the waistband of his suit trousers, I had a telephone call from Celia today.'
Hazel's eyebrows rose in surprise. 'You did?'
He gave a sardonic smile. 'Mm, I mink she must have run out of money.'
It was the sort of remark she would have made herself and she had no answer to it.
'I've never been blind to Celia and her mercenary mind,' Rafe told her dryly. 'She apologised to both of us.'
'Oh.'
His smile deepened, 'I know that was only lip service. Given the same circumstances she would say it all again.'
'Where's she living?' asked Hazel.
'She's renting an apartment in London. I think that sort of life will suit her better than living here.' They could hear the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house. 'That will be the first of our guests.' He shrugged into his jacket. .
‘The first of them? How many people are coming to dinner tonight?'
'Only a dozen or so.'
'A dozen...?'
'Don't start panicking,' he ordered sternly, taking her elbow and leading her out of the room. 'You know them all.'
'I do?'
'Mm. Now smile, I don't want everyone to think our look of lack of sleep is due to anything but the first passion of marriage.' His mouth twisted bitterly. 'Never mind that we both know it's frustration.'
'Rafe------'
'Not now, Hazel. Smile for our guests,' he repeated.
Hazel fixed a smile on her face before he opened the lounge door, the smile turning to one of genuine pleasure as she saw Trisha and her parents waiting for them. Mark Logan was standing slightly behind Trisha, looking as if he weren't quite sure of his welcome.
'Why didn't you tell me it was Trisha and her parents coming to dinner?' she asked Rafe softly.
'Because I wanted, you to think I'd forgotten your birthday, I wanted you to feel some of the uncertainty you're putting me through. There's still more people to arrive; but this is by way of being your birthday party.'
'Oh, Rafe!' Tears swam in her eyes.
'Go and greet your guests, Hazel,' he ordered harshly. 'They're expecting it.'
The evening passed in a glow of pleasure for her, the only complaint she had being that she didn't see enough of Rafe. He was far too busy acting the gracious host to her friends, giving no one the opportunity to see their tension with each other.
He gave her a gaily wrapped parcel after dinner, which she opened to reveal a thick gold bracelet. It gave her the chance to kiss him without his flinching away, although she couldn't prevent him moving away directly afterwards.
She felt tired but happy at the end of the evening, their guests having left, all the excitement over. She looked up in surprise as the telephone rang. 'Who on earth can that be this time of night?'
Rafe shrugged. 'I'll get it.'
As soon as she heard the name Janine Hazel's body stiffened. Why was that woman calling here this time of night? Did she have no shame? Rafe had been in the house all day, so he couldn't possibly have seen the other woman all day today; she probably wanted to know why this was.
Hazel didn't wait around to hear Rafe arrange to meet his mistress; her plans to tell him she wanted to change the state of their marriage had crumbled into the dust. She left the house in numbed silence and made her way down the rocky path to the cabin. She couldn't bear to lie beside Rafe in that bed tonight, knowing that tomorrow he would be going to his mistress.
She slipped once on the rocky path and the heel of her shoe snapped off. She swore angrily beneath her breath, hobbling the rest of the way. The night was balmy and by the time she reached the cabin she was hot and sticky, the gown sticking to her back.
She didn't hesitate but threw off her clothes before entering the water, the shocking coolness of it refreshing and invigorating. She hadn't bathed nude before and was surprised at just how good it felt.
The moon was bright and she could see for miles, see the way Savage House dominated these cliffs, the same way Rafe dominated her. As if thinking about him had brought him to her she saw him swimming towards her with strong powerful strokes. Oh God, what was she going to do now!
Her first instinct was to swim in the other direction, but that only led out to sea. She would have to stay here and face him—and below the shelter of this clear blue water she was absolutely naked.
He had reached her within seconds. 'What the hell do you think you're doing?' he ground out angrily.
