From Waif To His Wife. Lindsay Armstrong

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From Waif To His Wife - Lindsay Armstrong Mills & Boon Modern

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bent down to take it from her, and she emerged into the cockpit to see he’d taken the waterproof covers off the seats.

      His short, thick hair had also started to dry, so she could see it was dark blond; ditto, she thought. Height? About six feet four—ditto, she thought again—and grey eyes, but it was definitely not the same man, with a very different aura.

      She closed her eyes in confusion then opened them to notice the sky hadn’t cleared completely, so there was patchy sunlight, and it was still cool. What breeze there was was errant so that the surface of the water was glassy and reflecting the sky, then lightly ruffled.

      Peel Island, coming up on their port bow, was low and green compared to the bulk of North Stradebroke behind it. There was not much activity on this part of Moreton Bay on this chilly Saturday morning.

      ‘Sit down,’ he ordered, ‘and start talking.’

      Maisie did everything she knew to compose herself in what was not only a mystifying but also a dreadfully embarrassing situation.

      She took some deep breaths then remembered she was still wearing her beanie. She took it off and ran her fingers through her hair and the breeze lifted her curls, causing her companion to narrow his eyes as he studied her.

      Finally, she wrapped her hands around her mug. ‘W-would you please tell me who you are first? I do—really—need to know.’

      ‘Rafe Sanderson,’ he said curtly. ‘More to the point, who are you?’

      ‘No, you’re not.’ The words slipped out before she could help herself but she meant them.

      He looked at her ironically. ‘I can assure you I am.’

      ‘But I happen to know you’re not!’

      ‘Now look here—how?’ He changed tack slightly. ‘I can guarantee we don’t know each other from a—the proverbial bar of soap.’

      ‘That’s just it,’ she cried and lost all caution to the wind. ‘I—I had an affair with Rafe Sanderson, if you could call it that. I’m pregnant with his baby, but it would appear he’s—he doesn’t want anything more to do with me.’

      He was stunned into silence for a good minute. Then he put the motor into Neutral, then Reverse, and as the boat stopped moving he let out the anchor chain with a touch of a button on the console.

      And Maisie continued a little desperately, ‘At first I thought you were him, and now I see you’re not, but it’s the same name so I—I’m terribly confused.’

      ‘Some girls are easy to confuse,’ he said then with a hard little glint in his grey eyes. ‘Go on.’

      ‘You don’t believe me,’ Maisie said and gestured. ‘To be honest, neither do I. Not that it didn’t happen but I don’t believe I could have let it—’

      ‘Were you coerced?’ he asked abruptly.

      ‘No.’ And suddenly the fact that she’d had no one to confide in claimed her and it all spilt out. ‘I was lonely and bereft. I’d lost my parents—we were very close—a couple of months beforehand. Then one day I was doing my Mairead Wallis act—’

      ‘What the hell is that?’

      She told him about her name and the band. ‘And when we’d finished playing—it was an afternoon wedding—this man came up and introduced himself as Rafael Sanderson and asked if he could buy me a drink. I said no, thanks, but a cup of coffee would be nice. It all started there.’

      ‘Did you climb into bed with him that night?’

      ‘No,’ she said coldly and felt some of her redheadedness seep into her veins.

      Then she paused to take charge of her emotions, which also included being unable to deny that she’d been incredibly naïve.

      ‘But I really enjoyed his company, he was charming, funny and—gorgeous. And life just didn’t seem to be so bleak any more.’ She stopped and sighed. ‘So we had a few dates…for some reason I really dressed up for him, then he told me he’d fallen in love with me on sight and he wanted to marry me.’

      She closed her eyes. ‘I believed him. So, then, it did happen. I’ll never know if it was the wine we had—I don’t usually drink—but,’ she looked down at her hands, ‘I also believed him when he said he’d take charge of things.’

      ‘Contraception?’

      She nodded.

      ‘He didn’t,’ he said flatly, ‘and if all this is to be believed, he skedaddled. So it only happened once? Although I presume it rang bells and blew trumpets for you?’

      ‘It didn’t, actually.’ She looked self-conscious. ‘I mean, it was fine, but…’ She trailed off, looking embarrassed.

      ‘The earth didn’t move for you?’ he suggested.

      ‘Well, no, but I was a virgin and I thought it was just going to take time. And he was—well, he was nice about it and reassuring and I felt wanted, I felt loved…’ She trailed off and gestured.

      Bastard, Rafe caught himself thinking. If any of this is to be believed. ‘So—only once?’ he queried sceptically.

      She nodded again, but if he’d known her better he would have intercepted the little glint in her green eyes, and interpreted it correctly.

      ‘And that’s when you started to search for Rafael Sanderson?’

      ‘That’s when it occurred to me I had no means of getting in touch with him; he’d always been the one to make contact. That’s when I started to worry, not only on my account. I wondered if he’d had an accident—I was terribly concerned and confused, so—’ she shrugged ‘—but the only Rafael Sanderson, in Australia anyway, that I came up with turned out to be the CEO of Sanderson Minerals and heir to the Dixon fortune! Then I found out I was pregnant.’

      He scanned her figure. ‘You don’t look it. Listen, this is all very touching—’

      But Maisie slammed her fists on the table and shot up from her seat.

      ‘Don’t think,’ she spat at him, ‘I haven’t reflected on my stupidity, at great and bitter length, in fact. Don’t think that the real irony is I was the last girl I thought this could happen to, and it’s shocked me to my boots to discover I was as vulnerable as many other girls who find themselves in this position. But don’t think I intend to take it lying down, either.’

      She paused and flinched at her choice of words as he raised an eyebrow drily, then she soldiered on. ‘So you may look at me as cynically as you like, whoever you are, but I intend to find this man and give him a piece of my mind if nothing else!’

      ‘Sit down, Mairead—’

      ‘Maisie,’ she shot back.

      ‘I thought you said—’

      ‘I did, but I’m mostly called Maisie and, if you must know, I’ve become a bit allergic to Mairead because I suspect she led Rafe into believing I’m more—worldly

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