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‘Not before time, it seems.’ Neville’s cool grey eyes were checking out her ring. ‘So it’s true. I didn’t believe that Matthew would risk throwing his hat into the ring again, not when he’s still carrying a torch for poor Leigh…’
Rachel didn’t think her expression had changed, but the cordial politeness on Neville’s flat face congealed.
‘Ah, I see he’s told you his wife’s tragic story. I don’t suppose he happened to mention that my mother died of Parkinson’s disease? A long, slow degeneration that turned my father into a bitter old man who drank himself to death. I went through hell until I tested free of the Parkinson’s gene. I loved Leigh, but I know my own limitations. Sickness disgusts me.’ His nostrils flared as he looked around him in distaste. ‘I would have been no good to her if she’d got ill. Matt was far better equipped to play the white knight. It was what he’d wanted all along, after all. He still blames me, but how was I supposed to know that Leigh would turn out to be so emotionally unstable?’
Rachel’s pity warred with her discomfort. ‘I don’t think we should be talking about it—’
‘Aren’t you in the least bit curious to hear the other side of the story?’
‘I’m sure Matt will tell me anything I want to know.’
‘Are you sure? Oh, he’ll tell you everything you could find out from other sources—after all, he knows you run a detective agency—but what about the really damning secrets? The ones that aren’t on any public records…?’
His knowing smile sent a trickle of ice down her spine. ‘I really don’t think this is the time or place—’
He flicked a glance over her shoulder and picked up her hand. ‘Quite right. How about a cosy chat over dinner some time?’
She couldn’t believe his audacity. ‘No—I—Matt—’
His mouth twisted cynically. ‘Lunch, then? Surely he can’t object to that?’
‘Object to what?’ asked Matt, coming up beside them.
Rachel pulled her hand away, flustered when Neville didn’t easily let it go.
‘Rachel and I were just talking about having lunch. Hope you got my faxes, old boy…thanks for keeping the seat warm for me. How’s Uncle Kevin?’
‘He’s resting,’ Matt clipped.
Neville bristled with challenge. ‘Are you telling me I can’t even see him?’
The two men squared off at each other, then Matt shrugged with impatience. ‘Of course not, go ahead—just be aware that he doesn’t know about Rachel and I yet…’
‘Really? How interesting? More family secrets?’ Neville’s smile was redolent with meaning as he tilted his head towards Rachel and strolled off down the corridor.
Matt turned to Rachel, his eyes stormy. ‘He asked you to lunch? Did you accept?’
Rachel was casually dressed in trousers and a cotton sweater, for they were dining at a waterfront café, but she was wearing high-heeled sandals, and now she was glad of the opportunity to coolly look down her nose at him.
‘What do you think?’
For a moment his narrow face remained tight with fury, then his bunched jaw relaxed. ‘I think I’m being unreasonably jealous.’
‘Of me, or of Leigh?’ she dared.
His darkened eyes moved over her proud face. ‘Oh, definitely of you,’ he said softly. ‘In spite of that stupid, knee-jerk reaction I know you’re nothing like Leigh.’
And yet it was Leigh with whom he had fallen so helplessly in love…
She looked in the direction that his cousin had gone. ‘Admiration and envy can be quite a poisonous mix. It strikes me that Neville would quite happily cause you trouble if he could. Have you considered that he might be behind any attempt at a smear…?’
She found Matt already one step ahead of her. ‘I haven’t discounted him, though it’s not really his style. If the pictures fell into his hands I suppose he wouldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, but he’d consider it beneath him to stoop to such methods himself. Nor would he like the idea of being anyone else’s tool. His ambitious schemes tend to be more lofty. And I don’t see him continuing to target Dad after his heart attack. Apart from the fact he’s genuinely fond of my parents, he wouldn’t want his spite to reflect back on himself and jeopardise his position in the family. And don’t forget he’s been in Japan for the past two and a half weeks.’
So…maybe this wasn’t a solo effort, she mused. Maybe he had an accomplice. It was an idea worth following up, she thought to herself as they left the hospital.
The next day she had told Matt she was working late at the gym, but to her dismay he turned up far too early to collect her, looking vastly out of place in his dark suit and tie as he propped himself against an exercise bike and watched her chivvy one of her regulars into adding an extra set of reps to her weights programme. The sight of Rachel in stretch shorts and a cropped T-shirt under her cutaway leotard seemed to afford him endless fascination.
‘I exhausted myself just watching you,’ he murmured, handing over her towel and water bottle at the end of the session, licking his dry lips as he watched her blot the perspiration from her face and throat. ‘You stood over that poor woman like a drill sergeant…’
