Shadowed Stranger

‘No, you haven’t,’ she instantly contradicted, placing black unsugared coffee in front of him, having found an old tin kettle that she had boiled the water up in on the top of the cooker, but unable to find milk or sugar. The store-cupboard contained only coffee, the refrigerator was completely empty.

‘Maybe I haven’t,’ he accepted grudgingly. ‘But precocious kids—–’

‘Kid!’ she cut in indignantly, her eyes blazing.

Rick Howarth smiled at her reaction, looking a lot less grim now that he had eaten something. ‘All right, schoolchildren of an indiscriminate age—–’

She drew an angry breath. ‘I’m not a schoolgirl, Mr Howarth. I’m eighteen.’

His gaze ran insolently over her slender body. ‘You aren’t very filled out for an eighteen-year-old.’

‘And you’re the scruffiest individual I’ve ever seen,’ she told him furiously, angered by his outspoken insults. She might not be voluptuous, but she had all the right curves in the right places—even if he was blind to them.

‘I am, aren’t I?’ he agreed with casual acceptance.

‘Yes!’ she snapped. ‘And your hair needs cutting too.’

He sat back, his plate empty. ‘What are you like as a barber?’

Her eyes widened to large violet orbs. ‘I’m not offering to cut your hair for you!’

‘I’m asking.’

‘But I—I don’t even know you!’

His smile was mocking. ‘Do you have to know someone before you can cut their hair?’

She was near exploding point at his audacity. ‘I came over here to return your money—Oh goodness,’ she groaned, ‘I haven’t given it to you.’ She took it out of her pocket and put it on the table. ‘I didn’t need it after all,’ she explained. ‘Besides, this was much too much.’

He made no effort to pick up the money, almost as if it meant nothing to him. ‘How come you didn’t use it?’

‘Dad took one off another bike we had. Anyway, as I was saying, I only came here to return that money and deliver the food—–’

‘Talking of food—–’ he eyed the apple pie she had just taken from the oven.

‘Help yourself,’ she slammed the dish down on the table. ‘I didn’t come here to act as your cook or to cut your hair!’

‘Your mother really is a very good cook.’ He quirked one dark eyebrow. ‘I don’t suppose you can cook as well?’

Robyn flushed. ‘Not as well, no. Why, were you thinking of offering me a job as your housekeeper?’ she scorned.

‘That’s not a bad idea.’

‘It’s a lousy idea. Look, I have to go now. I’ve been here far too long already.’ Her parents would wonder what on earth she was doing over here all this time.

‘What about my hair?’ he drawled.

‘Go to a professional barber,’ Robyn advised impatiently. ‘I have to get home now, it’s starting to get dark.’

Rick Howarth stood up, looking infinitely more relaxed than when she had first arrived. ‘I’ll drive you,’ he offered.

‘There’s no need. It isn’t far,’ she babbled. ‘I can quite easily walk.’

‘I said I’ll drive you. I wouldn’t like you to get attacked on the way.’

‘In Sanford?’ she derided.

‘Anywhere,’ he said seriously. ‘There are woods on the way back to your home, you could be dragged in there and no one would be any the wiser.’

‘Thanks!’ her mouth twisted derisively. ‘If I felt all right about it before I certainly don’t now!’

He opened the door for her. ‘Okay, let’s go.’ He moved to unlock the car door.

‘Shouldn’t you lock up the house?’ she asked once they were seated in the car.

He eyes her with some amusement. ‘There’s nothing in there for anyone to take.’ He manoeuvred the car out of the driveway into the road.

Robyn frowned. ‘Why don’t you have any furniture?’

His mouth tightened. ‘How do you know I don’t?’ he asked suspiciously.

She swallowed hard, realising her mistake too late. ‘I—er—I—–’

‘So you went prying around my home,’ he said harshly, his face rigid with anger. ‘I should have known, I suppose. All women are the same, aren’t they, you just can’t leave a man’s privacy alone.’

Robyn gasped at his accusations. ‘I only looked—–’

‘Because you were damned nosey,’ he rasped.

‘No—–’

‘Yes!’ His teeth snapped together angrily.

‘Please, Mr Howarth—–’

He drew the car to a halt. ‘This is your home, isn’t it?’ he said coldly, staring straight ahead of him.

She looked about them in a daze the short drive to her home seemed to have taken no time at all. ‘I—Yes. But—–’

‘Goodnight, Miss Castle. Thank your mother for me.’

‘I—Yes, yes I will.’ She scrambled out of the car. ‘I just wish you would let me explain.’

‘There’s nothing to explain.’ He accelerated the Jaguar forward with a screech of the tyres, the passenger door slamming closed with the force of the speed.

Whew! What a volatile man—one minute almost human, the next back to the cold hard stranger she had first encountered. Admittedly she had no right to be walking around his home, but if she hadn’t been worried as to his whereabouts she wouldn’t have done such a thing.

‘You’ve been gone a long time, dear.’ Her mother looked up from her knitting as Robyn entered the lounge. ‘Have you been round to Kay’s?’