A Most Determined Bachelor

She looked at him thoughtfully, then dared to ask, ‘What about you, Ryan? Are you so emotionally under control that you prefer to live entirely without female company?’

He gave a faint snort. ‘Who says I live entirely without female company?’

‘It’s the impression you’ve given me.’

‘Then allow me to correct it. When I need a woman I can always call on Cynthia.’ The statement came out casually.

Her eyes widened. ‘Cynthia...?’ Hearing him mention the name of a woman had given her a shock.

‘Cynthia Birch. She’s a friend who lives at Te Pohue on the road to Lake Taupo. When I go fishing at Taupo, or skiing on Mount Ruapehu, I usually call in and have coffee with her. She’s inclined to rely on me for advice concerning her financial affairs.’

‘She’s fortunate in having someone such as yourself to guide her.’

‘Well—it’s only been since her divorce.’

‘I see.’ She stared down at her empty plate.

‘Are you sure about that? Is there anything else you’d like to know?’ he drawled, while watching her from behind hooded lids.

‘Not particularly,’ she returned in an offhand manner, at the same time knowing this to be a lie. In fact there were several points now jumping about to arouse her curiosity, but they were not questions she felt could be asked—at least not on such short acquaintance. They’d be sure to bring forth a snub strong enough to ruin the delicate amicability that had sprung up between them.

Exactly how deep was his friendship with this woman? she wondered. And then there was the question of Vema. Did he still have any depth of feeling left for her? ‘One doesn’t forget old friends’, he’d said, and Judy wished she knew what had come between them to end their romance.

And then another question that had often simmered in Judy’s mind returned to niggle at her. It concerned the identity of Robin’s father. Did Ryan know of his whereabouts? She had never set eyes on the elusive Mr Bryant, nor was his name ever mentioned. Not that it was any business of hers, of course, although she had often wondered if Verna, as a single parent, was using a fictitious name for the sake of appearances. But now that Robin was going to school he’d soon be asking questions for himself, especially on sports days and at break-up time, when the other boys produced their fathers. Where was his father? he’d soon be wanting to know.

Even as she pondered this question Judy looked at the man sitting at the table. The rays from the nearby standard lamp fell on his thick auburn hair, highlighting the gleam of red in it, and she was reminded of similar glints of red in Robin’s hair. Startled, she was forced to wonder if Ryan could be the boy’s father—was this why Hilda Simmons had sent the boy to Napier? Did she hope that father and son would find a mutual bond, so that when Verna arrived matters could be brought to a successful conclusion?

The thoughts swam about in Judy’s mind until suddenly she told herself she was being stupid. She was jumping to conclusions and assuming a situation which probably didn’t exist. If Ryan was Robin’s father she felt sure he would have acknowledged him years ago—although why she had such faith in his integrity she was unable to say. It was just that he seemed to be an honest person who meant what he said—someone who was totally different from Alan Draper.

She was so lost in her thoughts she almost jumped when Ryan raised his hand to run a long tanned forefinger down her cheek. His touch sent a tremor through her body and her face flushed.

His eyes glinted as he observed her reaction, then his voice became a low murmur as he asked, ‘Is something worrying you?’

She forced herself to meet his gaze. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Because you’ve been silent for several long minutes and I’ve been watching the changing expressions on your face. They’ve made me wonder if you’re concerned for your safety in this house.’

She caught her breath. ‘You mean from you? No...it hadn’t even occurred to me.’

His dark brows drew together. ‘Does that mean you consider me to be a sexless wimp?’

She gave a faint smile, while allowing her eyes to rest upon his sensuous mouth and strong jaw. This man, a sexless wimp? Not in a thousand years would he qualify. Then she said, ‘No...I feel quite safe because I suspect you’ve no wish for me to rush screaming to Miss Coster. Besides, you need me here to take care of Robin.’

He spoke gruffly, ‘Well, there’s a lock to your bedroom door in case you begin to feel jittery about my intentions.’

Later, when she went to bed, she didn’t even bother to turn the key. There was no need, she assured herself. She held no attraction for him—nor did he hold any attraction for her. Well, maybe that wasn’t quite true, but she’d fight against it because she was finished with men and had no intention of looking at another for a long, long time. As for being caught on the rebound—huh! That would be the day! He must think she was a complete idiot.

CHAPTER THREE

NEXT morning Judy was awakened by the sound of Robin’s high-pitched voice coming from the kitchen. She sprang out of bed and shrugged herself into a wrap, made a quick visit to the en suite bathroom, and, having raked a comb through her blonde hair, hurried to the kitchen where she found Robin enjoying a plate of porridge.

Standing beneath the archway, and hardly able to believe her eyes, she exclaimed, ‘Porridge—my goodness, wonders will never cease.’

Ryan said, ‘I didn’t have any cereal that snapped, crackled or popped, which I’m told he usually demands.’

Robin licked his spoon. ‘This is good. It’s better than that stuff Gran makes. Uncle Ryan says if I eat porridge every morning I’ll grow up to be just like him.’

Just like him. The words clicked in Judy’s mind, seeming to confirm her thoughts of the previous evening.

Ryan sent her a wink while spooning marmalade on to buttered toast. ‘The secret lies in raw sugar and creamy milk. Would you like to try some? It takes only three minutes in the microwave.’

‘No, thank you. Tea and toast is all I ever have for breakfast.’ Then, suddenly conscious of her appearance, she added hastily, ‘I’d better go and get dressed.’

Ryan spoke quickly. ‘No... don’t go. I like you as you are. There’s something homely about a girl in a wrap and slippers.’ He poured a cup of tea for her, then moved to put two slices of bread in the toaster. ‘We didn’t wait for you,’ he went on. ‘We thought it possible you needed the extra sleep.’

We, she noticed. It was almost as though he was beginning to acknowledge Robin and himself as a unit. Strangely, it gave her an intangible feeling of being left out, but she brushed it aside and spoke casually. ‘To be honest I was glad of the extra sleep. Yesterday had its stressful moments.’

Ryan frowned as he demanded dryly, ‘Are you referring to the welcome I gave you—or rather the lack of it?’

‘Oh, my troubles had begun before that,’ she admitted.

Robin sent her a morose look that also held apprehension and guilt. ‘I suppose you’re going to tell Uncle Ryan about me being naughty on the plane?’ he queried sulkily.

Ryan assumed a shocked expression. ‘You were naughty? What did you do? Or was it something you wouldn’t do?’ he asked with perception.

Robin hung his head. ‘I wouldn’t stay in my seat when Judy told me to. I kept running between the seats,’ he admitted contritely.

‘Up and down the aisle like a young fiend,’ Judy put in.

‘He was over-excited by being on a plane for the first time.’

Robin became defensive. ‘I was trying to make the plane go faster,’ he explained. ‘It didn’t seem to be going very fast.’

Ryan was amused. ‘No doubt it got up speed with the help of your efforts?’

Robin looked at him blankly. ‘I don’t know. A man put his arm out and stopped me. He pulled me into an empty seat beside him and we talked until the lady in uniform told me to go back to my own seat and fasten my seat belt.’

‘So what did you talk about?’ Ryan asked with undisguised curiosity.

‘We talked about Judy,’ Robin admitted with childish candour.

‘Me...?’ Judy demanded indignantly. ‘What did he want to know about me? I’d never seen the man before.’

‘He wanted to know your name,’ Robin informed her. ‘He said he thought you were very pretty.’

‘Nothing wrong with his eyesight,’ Ryan remarked in a droll tone.

A flush crept into Judy’s cheeks but she said nothing. ‘Don’t allow him to talk to any strange men,’ Hilda Simmons had warned. Obviously she was right, but in this case there was little Judy could have done to prevent it. Then she felt herself shrink as Robin gave out more information.