Nights of Passion. Anne Mather

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СКАЧАТЬ well.’ Daisy shrugged. ‘I guess I can live with it. I mean, you’re bound to meet someone else someday. Someone really nice. Not like Lauren at all.’

      It was after midnight when Rachel tumbled into bed, but for once she didn’t immediately fall asleep. Usually her eyes were so tired she lost consciousness the minute her head touched the pillow, but tonight her mind was too active to relax.

      It was ringing Steve so late, she decided. With the time lag, she’d had to wait until after eleven to catch him at home. But it hadn’t been something she’d wanted to discuss while he was at the office, even on his mobile phone, with possibly a receptionist or a secretary listening in.

      However, it wasn’t Steve’s image that kept her awake until the early hours. It wasn’t his blond good looks and slim athleticism that haunted her sleep. The image she found behind her eyes was that of Joe Mendez, whose tough, somewhat ruthless features and muscled profile ticked every one of the boxes Daisy might have desired.

      CHAPTER THREE

      THERE was someone at the door. Rachel could hear the bell ringing quite clearly and she struggled up in bed, wondering who on earth would call at this hour of the morning.

      But it wasn’t the doorbell. As soon as she sat up and got her bearings, she realised it was the phone beside the bed that had awakened her. It was silent now. Daisy must have answered it downstairs, she thought resignedly. It wasn’t like her daughter to be up so early, but it was holiday time, not a school morning; go figure.

      What time was it? she wondered, groping for the small travelling clock she kept beside the bed. She was horrified when she saw it was after ten o’clock. She rarely slept in, but after the restless night she’d had it was hardly surprising. She must have fallen asleep eventually, but right now she felt decidedly rough.

      Pushing her legs out of bed, she swayed a little as she got to her feet. Too much red wine, she thought, hauling on her towelling bathrobe and opening the bedroom door. Wasn’t it just typical that, the one morning someone chose to call her this early, she was still in bed?

      She almost jumped out of her skin when the phone began to ring again. She’d stepped out onto the landing, wondering where Daisy had got to, when its insistent peal assaulted her ears. Daisy could answer it, she thought, starting down the stairs. It was most likely someone for her.

      But Daisy didn’t answer it and Rachel looked back up the stairs, wondering if her daughter had slept in too. Daisy’s bedroom door was closed, but that didn’t prove anything. She tended to regard her bedroom as her private space, and Rachel rarely intruded without an invitation.

      Continuing down the stairs, Rachel picked up the receiver in the hall. ‘Yes?’ she said, the headache that was beginning to throb behind her temples making her sound snappy.

      ‘Rachel?’ Her throat dried. Oh God, it was him again. Joe Mendez. He must be ringing to find out what she’d decided. Had he spoken to Steve? ‘I just wanted—’

      ‘To know about Daisy,’ she interrupted him quickly. ‘I did intend to ring you later today.’

      ‘No.’ Joe spoke crisply. ‘I didn’t ring you to find out about Daisy. I know you’ve agreed to let her go. She told me so herself.’

      Rachel blinked. ‘She told you?’ She was confused.

      ‘Wait a second.’ There was a momentary shifting of the phone, a muffled protest, and then a reluctant voice said, ‘Hello, Mum.’

      It was Daisy. Rachel groped for the oak chest that served as both a place to drop the mail and somewhere to sit to change one’s shoes and sank down onto it. ‘Daisy!’ Her voice cracked. ‘What’s going on?’

      ‘Don’t be mad, Mum.’ Daisy, at least, knew how she was feeling. ‘I had to come and see Mr Mendez. I had to tell him you were okay with me travelling with him.’

      Rachel felt dazed. ‘Why?’

      ‘Well, because I heard what you said to Dad, and I didn’t—’

      ‘Anything I said to your father was between us two, do you understand that?’ Rachel’s headache felt so much worse now. ‘Honestly, Daisy, I thought I could trust you. Now—now I don’t know what to think.’

      ‘Oh, Mum.’

      ‘Where are you, anyway?’

      ‘At—at Mr Mendez’s house.’

      ‘His house?’ Rachel was stunned. ‘How did you know where he was staying?’

      ‘It was on his card,’ muttered Daisy unhappily. ‘You just left it in the hall, and I—I picked it up.’

      ‘Oh, Daisy!’ Rachel could hardly take it in. ‘You had no right to read that card, let alone go out without my permission to visit someone you hardly know!’

      ‘Don’t be like that, Mum, please.’

      ‘How do you expect me to be?’ Rachel felt her temper rising. ‘I can’t believe you’d do something so deceitful. Particularly as I’ve been awake half the night worrying about this trip.’ Well, that was only partly true, but Daisy didn’t need to know that. ‘And now I discover you’ve taken matters into your own hands.’

      There was another muffled exchange and then Joe said, ‘Sorry if this has been a bit of a shock. I guess you’ve been wondering where Daisy was. I’m going to bring her home, but I felt I ought to let you know she’s okay.’

      Rachel’s shoulders hunched. She was too ashamed to say she hadn’t even known her daughter had gone out, but she managed a polite, ‘That was kind of you.’

      ‘Yeah, well.’ She suspected he might have detected the irony in her voice and his next words seemed to prove it. ‘Don’t be too hard on her, right? I think she meant well.’

      Rachel tried not to feel resentful that this man—this stranger—felt he had the right to advise her about how to treat her daughter. But all she said was, ‘Thanks. I appreciate your comments,’ and rang off before indignation got the better of politeness.

      However, as soon as she’d replaced the receiver she realised she had no idea where Joe’s—house? Hotel?—was. She’d hardly glanced at his card. And now she could only guess how much time she might have before they got here.

      She was desperate for a cup of coffee, but she didn’t dare wait while it brewed. Instead, she spooned grains into the filter and left it to percolate while she took a swift shower.

      Her hair was still damp when she stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, surveying her appearance. Tucking the artificially darkened strands back behind her ears, she decided it didn’t look too bad. It was foolish, she knew, but instead of her usual working gear of shorts and a cotton top she’d chosen to wear a dress. It was a simple camisole, in shades of cream and brown, which she thought complemented her lightly tanned skin. The dress ended at her knees, and she left her legs bare.

      The shower had eased her headache somewhat, but she took two paracetamol with her coffee. Then, realising she hadn’t put on any make-up, she dashed back upstairs, and was in the process of brushing a bronze shadow onto her lids when she heard a car in the road outside.

      Her СКАЧАТЬ