Rachel sighed. Paul Davis was the man she used to work for before her writing career had taken off. After the divorce she’d had to get a full-time job to help support herself and Daisy, and Paul had been a good employer. The trouble was, he wanted to be more than that, and he’d taken to calling every few weeks to ask her how she was and, occasionally, ask her out.
And she had been tempted to accept his invitation recently, mostly to get Evelyn off her back. Not that her mother-in-law wanted her to get married again. She still nurtured hopes that she and Steve would get back together.
‘Yes, he rang,’ she said now, resignation setting in at the thought of what was coming next.
‘So why don’t you go out with him?’ Evelyn asked encouragingly. ‘He’s a nice young man, isn’t he? And you deserve some entertainment while Daisy’s away.’
‘He’s hardly young,’ said Rachel drily. ‘He’s fifty or thereabouts. And he’s never been married, Lynnie. He still lives with his widowed mother.’
‘Which shows how dependable he is,’ declared Evelyn firmly. ‘Come on, Rachel. When did you last have a date?’
Too long ago to remember, thought Rachel ruefully as the memory of that scene with Joe Mendez flashed back into her mind. Sometimes she wondered if that had all been a figment of her imagination too. There was no doubt that it had been an unlikely event.
But then she remembered the nights during the past week when she’d awakened to find her breasts taut and sensitive, and an ache twisting low in her stomach that wouldn’t go away. Sometimes she was soaked with sweat, too, her nightshirt clinging wetly to her aroused body. That wasn’t her imagination, she knew, and she’d found it very hard to get back to sleep.
‘Rachel!’
She’d been silent too long and Evelyn was getting impatient. ‘I’m here,’ she said. ‘I was just thinking, perhaps I should go out with Paul.’ Liar! ‘It may be just what I need.’ To get Joe Mendez out of her head.
‘Oh, good.’ Evelyn was pleased, evidently thinking her persuasion had worked. ‘Let me know what happens, won’t you, dear? Howard and I only have your best interests in mind.’
Rachel hung up the phone, wondering if agreeing to go out with Paul had been rather foolish. But she could hardly admit that the last time she’d slept with a man had been after the divorce papers had been delivered. Accepting an invitation to one of Julie Corbett’s parties as a way of getting out of the house had been stupid. Finding herself in Julie’s bedroom after one too many vodka martinis with a man she’d thankfully not seen either before or since had been downright stupid.
Fortunately she hadn’t been too drunk to ensure he’d used protection, but for weeks afterwards she’d worried in case it hadn’t been enough. Still, nothing untoward had happened, but it had been a sobering experience. One she’d vowed would never happen again.
Rachel bought a new outfit for her dinner date with Paul Davis. The low-cut crocheted top and skirt were a delicate shade of turquoise, and complemented the sun-streaked colour of her hair. The top also revealed a tantalising glimpse of cleavage, while the short skirt didn’t exaggerate the provocative curve of her hips. The slightly cropped top also skimmed her midriff, as she appreciated every time she moved and a draught of cooler air brushed against her skin.
But the date itself was a disaster. As Rachel realised halfway through the evening when Paul had talked of nothing but his vintage Jaguar, and the extensive model-railway he had laid out in his mother’s attic. She wished she’d asked Evelyn to ring her, to give her an escape if any was necessary. As it was, she could see the remainder of the evening stretching ahead of her without any relief from Paul’s hobbies.
She had just begun to say she didn’t want a dessert, in the hope of cutting the evening short, when her mobile phone started ringing. Knowing Evelyn’s penchant for gossip, she guessed her mother-in-law was impatient to hear how she was enjoying herself. Or perhaps she’d heard from Daisy, she thought, glad of any distraction. But when she heard Evelyn’s voice, she knew immediately that something was wrong.
‘Hello, Lynnie,’ she said, hoping she was mistaken. ‘This is a surprise.’
‘Oh, darling.’ Evelyn sounded unlike herself. ‘I’m sorry to interrupt your evening. Are you having a good time?’
Not really, thought Rachel. But she said, ‘It’s fine.’ She cast an unwilling glance in Paul’s direction. ‘What is it, Lynnie? Is something wrong?’
But she knew. Before Evelyn spoke, she felt an uneasy shiver slide down her spine. ‘I just thought you’d want to know, that’s all,’ said her mother-in-law as Rachel’s brain raced ahead to a dozen probable scenarios, all of them bad. ‘We’ve had a call from Steve.’
‘Steve?’ The fingers of apprehension tightened their hold around Rachel’s stomach. This must be something to do with Daisy, she thought. Was this why she hadn’t heard from her daughter recently? Oh God, she begged, please don’t let anything bad have happened to her.
‘Rachel!’ Paul was speaking to her now, and she looked at him with uncomprehending eyes. ‘The waiter wants to know what you’d like for dessert,’ he said impatiently. ‘He hasn’t got all night.’
Rachel blinked. ‘Not now,’ she told him unsteadily. Then, to Evelyn, ‘What is it? What’s happened? Is Daisy hurt?’
‘Not seriously, I’m sure.’ Evelyn sounded as if she half wished she hadn’t made the call now. ‘There’s been an accident.’
‘Rachel!’
It was Paul speaking to her again, but Rachel ignored him. ‘What kind of accident?’ she demanded raggedly. ‘When did it happen?’
‘Oh, I’m not sure. Yesterday, the day before—Steve didn’t say.’ Evelyn tried to calm her. ‘They were all out on Lauren’s father’s yacht, apparently. I don’t think it’s anything to worry about, but—’
Rachel sucked in a breath. She’d known. She’d positively known that Daisy would have been in touch if she could. ‘I’m coming home,’ she said. ‘Right now. I want to speak to Steve myself. I want to know exactly how it happened and why I wasn’t told at once.’
‘Um …’ There was something more, but Evelyn evidently thought better of telling her then. ‘Yes, perhaps you should come home,’ she agreed. ‘Then we can discuss all the details.’
Rachel wanted to say ‘What details?’ but it would be easier to wait until she could speak to her mother-in-law face to face. ‘I’ll be about twenty minutes.’
She closed her phone to find Paul staring at her disbelievingly. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked as she pushed back her chair. ‘You’re not leaving?’
‘I’m afraid I am.’ Rachel took a breath. ‘That was Steve’s mother. Daisy’s had an accident. I’ve got to go home so I can call her.’
Paul didn’t look pleased. ‘I’ll drive you,’ he said, but she could tell it was the last thing he wanted to do. He’d been enjoying his meal and, judging by his slight paunch, food played a large part in his enjoyment of life. Along with his car and model railway, of course.
‘There’s no need,’ she said now, gathering up her wrap from the back of her chair. ‘You finish your meal. I can get a taxi. Thanks for—for everything. I’ll probably see you later.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE British Airways flight to Miami had been due to land at three o’clock local time, but the airport was busy, and they’d had to circle the immediate area at least twice before being given permission to make an approach. Then, after landing, there