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‘Want me to get it?’ Greg suggested helpfully. He was standing closer to the hall door than Lisa, and she smiled her agreement rather abstractedly, still wondering how she was going to break the news to him.
The sound of Rorke’s voice in the hall mingling with Greg’s lighter tones shocked her. She was standing in front of the fire, her hands clasped in a gesture of subconscious supplication.
‘I believe I left my gloves here last night,’ Rorke announced tersely. ‘I wouldn’t have interrupted you, only they happened to be a gift from a close friend.’
‘Helen?’ Lisa queried swiftly, anger colouring her skin, her eyes glittering in an entirely feminine reaction.
‘And if it was?’
Suddenly realising that Greg was watching them curiously, Lisa said levelly, ‘If it was, I’m surprised you didn’t take more care of them. Or were they left here simply as an excuse to come back and spy on me?’
She could tell from the dull tinge of red creeping up under his skin that her barb had found its mark.
This was the price one paid for knowing a person too well, she thought achingly. No wonder when marriages broke up it could be with such acrimony; there was nothing like intimacy to reveal the other’s weaknesses and how best to make use of them.
She felt sick, hating herself for allowing her feelings to betray her into such an acid comment, but the thought of Rorke cherishing the gloves Helen had given him more than he cherished the child she had given him sickened her.
‘Old friends, I take it?’ Greg interrupted, watching her.
‘Not friends, exactly,’ Rorke replied for her, his eyes warning her to say nothing. ‘Lisa is my wife.’
Lisa could tell that Greg was stunned by Rorke’s statement. He looked first at Rorke and then at her for corroboration. His urgent, ‘Lisa, is this true?’ drew a brief nod of her head from her.
‘We’ve been separated for years,’ she said huskily, hoping he would understand all that she could not say; and forgive her for the hurt she knew she was causing him. ‘I…’
‘What I think Lisa is trying to say,’ Rorke interrupted reaching for her hand and giving it a warning squeeze, ‘is that we’ve both had a change of heart. We’re going to wipe the slate clean; make a fresh start. She’s coming back to the Caribbean with me.’
‘Lisa?’ Greg was plainly disbelieving. ‘Lisa, is this true? You said nothing…’
‘We haven’t known ourselves very long,’ Rorke told him coolly. ‘My father is very ill, and wants to see Lisa. That was what originally brought me here.’
‘Leigh has been like a father to me,’ Lisa said huskily, her eyes pleading with Greg for understanding. ‘I…’
‘Of course I understand, Lisa,’ he assured her quickly. ‘I suppose that means that you won’t be interested in the new contract.’ He sighed ruefully. ‘A pity.’ He turned to Rorke. ‘Lisa’s a very talented artist, although she tries to pretend otherwise. But then of course you’ll know that.’
‘I don’t think Rorke is particularly interested in my artistic talents, Greg,’ said Lisa in a tight voice.
‘As I recall it,’ Rorke drawled in a deeply suggestive tone, ‘we didn’t have enough time to get round to swapping hobbies.’
Even though he said nothing it struck her quite forcibly that he hadn’t been surprised to hear about her work, but surely she was wrong?
‘So Robbie’s your son,’ Greg murmured, obviously feeling ill at ease. ‘There’s a distinct resemblance.’
Lisa saw Rorke’s mouth tighten grimly.
‘Er—Lisa—look, I’d better be going. I’ll take these along and see what they think.’ He looked uncomfortably at Rorke. ‘About the others…’
‘I’ll finish the contract, of course, Greg,’ Lisa assured him, walking with him into the hall.
‘I’m sorry about all this,’ she apologised quietly, aware of Rorke behind her in the living room. ‘It’s…’
‘Look, you don’t have to explain a thing to me. I hope you’ll be happy, Lisa.’ Greg reached out, touching her hair and smiling wryly. ‘I thought I’d give you time—not rush you because I could tell things had gone wrong for you, but it seems I took too much.’
‘Touching!’ Rorke sneered behind her as Lisa closed the door on Greg. The acid sound of his voice triggered off a bitter reaction, and she whirled round, anger blazing from her eyes.
How dare you sneer at Greg!’ she stormed. ‘Without him Robbie and I could never have managed!’
‘Typical of you,’ Rorke grimaced. ‘That’s your standby isn’t it, Lisa, find another man to shoulder your responsibilities.’
