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Hazel blushed, snatching the comb out of her hand and replacing it on the dressing-table. 'They were a goodbye present from a friend.'
Celia raised one dark eyebrow. 'They don't look like goodbye to me, more like thank you.'
'I'm not interested in your opinion. Did you deliberately not tell me about Rafe?' Hazel persisted.
'Not deliberately, no. I just didn't think it any of your business. After all, you aren't family.'
Hazel would have liked to have refuted this, but she couldn't when it was almost exactly the same as she had said to Rafe the evening before. 'And what makes you think I haven't already told Rafe? We were alone yesterday evening, I had plenty of time to tell him exactly what a deceiver you are.'
Celia smiled. 'Very politely said, Hazel. "I'm sure you could have said a few other names that would have suited the occasion better.'
'Like you did yesterday?'
'You make it too easy for me, Hazel, you always did. You never would tell Rafe when I pinched you or pulled your hair, and you haven't told him about this either.'
'How do you know that?' Hazel shivered under the other girl's contemptuous gaze.
'Because if you had Rafe would have blasted me out for it. But he hasn't said a word about it, only told me to apologise for last night, which I have no intention of doing. But I'm sure you won't tell Rafe that either.'
'I could tell him today about your little omission,' Hazel flared, stung into anger by the other woman's complacency.
Celia walked casually over to the door. 'Too late. Hazel. I would only have to say that you're lying to protect yourself, to ingratiate yourself back into Rafe's good books, and he would have to believe me. You should have told him when you arrived, not waited until the next day. No, Hazel, I'm afraid it would be your word against mine, and at this stage I'm the one most likely to be believed.' After a triumphant smile in Hazel's direction she closed the door quietly behind her as she left.
Hazel slammed her way into her adjoining bathroom, resting her hot forehead on the cold mirror tiles. She felt shivery and hot at the same time, nauseous and yet strangely empty. Celia had always affected her the same way, and once again she had let her get under her skin. Oh, why did she let her get away with it? Why didn't she stand up to her, show some of the self-confidence she had gained in America?
She turned around with a sigh, resting back against the wall. She let Celia get away with it because she was a coward, because she didn't want to leave Savage House so soon after returning here, and more than that, she didn't want to leave Rafe.
She put that thought firmly to the back of her mind and moved with determined concentration to collect her clothing for the day. The shower soothed and woke her up and she felt refreshed by the time she entered the kitchen for the longed-for coffee Celia had seen fit to deny her.
Sara looked up with a smile. 'Coffee?' she guessed 'And toast?'
Hazel grinned. 'Yes, please.' She made herself comfortable on the stool in front of the breakfast bar, as she had often done as a child. Sara had always been much more than the housekeeper to Hazel, treating her like the daughter she had never had. Consequently Hazel had eaten most of her meals in the kitchen, when Rafe had allowed it of course, and during the summer months he had found it very hard to keep track of her whereabouts.
The coffee was just as good as she had been imagining it would be for the last half hour. She wasn't really hungry, but as there were still two hours to wait until lunchtime she thought it better to eat something.
'Where's Rafe today?' she asked casually.
'Out on the estate, and has been for the last four hours.'
As it was eleven-thirty now that meant Rafe had left at seven-thirty, and he had worked late into the evening too. It had been after twelve when she heard him come up to bed, and he had been in his study all that time, presumably working. 'He works too hard, Sara.'
The housekeeper clucked disapprovingly. 'Many's the time I've told him that this past six months. He's been working like a demon ever since he came out of hospital. And after being told by the doctors that he should take things easy...' She shook her head, ‘But he won't listen to anyone, insists on doing the work of three men.'
'But someone should stop him,' Hazel said, aghast. 'He'll kill himself!'
Sara poured her some more coffee. 'I keep telling him that, but he just brushes my words aside. I was hoping that now you're home you could try to persuade him to take things a bit easier.'
Hazel looked doubtful. 'Now when could I ever persuade Rafe to do anything?'
'Quite a lot of the time, if you went about it the right way. I don't mean for you to come right out and ask him to slow down—no,, that would only make him all the more determined to do the opposite. But you could try to take him out of himself a bit, help him enjoy life a little more.'
Hazel stood up, shaking her head regretfully. 'I don't think Rafe would let me do that. But I have accepted his offer to help him with the paperwork. That should relieve a little of the burden.'
Sara smiled. 'Oh, I'm so pleased! He's up till all hours doing that work, but with you to help him he should be able to relax, a bit more. Of course, Miss Celia could have helped out there, but then that's none of my business. She always would rather be out with her friends than bothering with any work there was to be done. A wild crowd they are too, always up to some new mischief or other. Not that that's any of my business either, but you can't help wondering what they're going to do next. Nude bathing it was a couple of weeks ago.'
Hazel laughed at her shock. Nude bathing had often gone on during her stay in the States, in the more secluded coves, of course. Not that Hazel had ever been tempted to brave the stares of the other bathers, although it had seemed appealing during some of the more humid summer months. But she could well understand how such behaviour would shock Sara and the other locals.
She picked up her empty cup and plate and took them over to the worktop. ‘I think I'll just take a look in the study now and see if there's anything I can do.'
'That's a good idea,' agreed Sara. 'That way you'll be able to make a start on it and surprise Mr Rafe. Leave those,' she ordered as Hazel began to wash up her dirty crockery. 'I'll see to them in a minute. You go ahead and start the work.'
Hazel did as she said, knowing from past experience that it didn't pay to argue with Sara. The housekeeper would always have her own way. She walked to the door. 'Will Rafe be back for lunch?'
'I have no idea. Sometimes he is, sometimes he isn't.'
'It must make it difficult for you, never knowing whether you have to prepare him a meal or not.' 'I manage.'
Hazel grinned. 'I'm sure you do. Well, I'll be in the study if you need me.'
'I take it you'll be here for lunch?' 'Oh yes.' They laughed together, both knowing how Hazel loved her food.
The study was in absolute chaos, letters scattered all over the desk, opened and unopened alike, the mail obviously not having been attended to for days. Poor Rafe, he must have been overworked to have allowed his correspondence to have got in this state. She could only imagine it had been hidden away in one of the drawers when she had been in here yesterday.
She sat down at the desk, noting with some surprise the photograph of herself that stood on the polished mahogany surface. Of course there was one of Celia too, but nevertheless sne was still surprised to see her own picture there. The photograph had been taken at her eighteenth birthday party, an occasion she had tried to forget. She had thought Rafe would feel the same way about it, but he obviously didn't.
She turned away with determination, deliberately ignoring the photograph and the memories it evoked. She sorted through the letters, placing all the advertisements and circulars in a separate pile before reading through the important mail. It didn't take her long to sort out the urgent ones, the ones she would have to get Rafe to deal with this evening so that she might type the replies tomorrow.
'What the hell do you think you're doing?'
Hazel looked up with a start. She had been so engrossed in her work that she hadn't heard Rafe come in. She gave him an uncertain look. 'I was—well, I was just dealing with the mail.'
He came further into the room, closing the door behind him. 'Did it not occur to you that I might not want you poking about in my affairs?'
'But you—you asked me to help you with this sort of thing.' She watched him apprehensively, aware of him as she was never aware of any other man, not even Josh. Even while suavely sophisticated as he had been last night Rafe still had an earthy attraction. But dressed in tight-fitting denims and an almost completely unbuttoned shirt he had a sensuality that would set any woman's pulse racing. The scars had now become a part of his attraction, a part that she couldn't separate from the old Rafe. Scarred or not, Rafe was Rafe, and he meant too much in her life for comfort.
He stood in front of the desk she still sat at, a cheroot dangling between the fingers of his right hand. 'I may have asked you to help me, but I didn't expect you to come prying in here in my absence.' He looked at her coldly.
She stood up jerkily. 'That's the second time you've implied that I've deliberately sneaked in here to secretly read your mail! I'm not that interested in it, I just thought as I had nothing else to do I could make a start on it.'
Rafe picked up a couple of the letters and idly perused them. 'And didn't it occur to you that some of this mail could be personal?'
'Of course it occurred to me,' she snapped. 'I'm not that inexperienced.' She thrust a bundle of letters at him that had remained unopened. 'I put these to one side before I even began. They may not all be personal, but anything that looked suspect I put in that pile.'
