Rescued by the Brooding Tycoon (8 page)

‘But the papers always say—you know, the mighty entrepreneur, all that stuff—’

‘Been checking up on me, huh?’ he said wryly.

‘Of course. Be fair. Since you control our lives, I had to find out what I could.’

‘Control your lives? Oh, sure, it looks like it. I arrive knowing nothing, nearly die finding out, get snatched from the jaws of death by you and the others. Some control! So I suppose you know all there is to know about me?’

Harriet shook her head. ‘Only basics. Your father is Amos Falcon—
the
Amos Falcon. Empire builder, financial mogul—all right, all right.’ She backed off hastily, seeing his expression. ‘And you have lots of brothers. It must be nice coming from a large family. I’m an only child and it can be lonely.’

‘So can being in a large family,’ Darius said.

‘Really? I can’t imagine that. Tell me more.’

But suddenly his mouth closed in a firm line. It was as though something had brought him to the edge of a cliff, Harriet thought, and he’d backed away in alarm. She could almost see him retreating further and further.

‘What is it?’ she asked.

He rose and walked away to the window. She had a strange feeling that he was trying to put a distance between them, as though she was some kind of threat. After a moment’s hesitation she followed him and laid a tentative hand on his arm.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘Of course it’s none of my business. I’m always sticking my nose into other people’s affairs. Just ignore me.’

With anyone else he would have seized this offer with relief, but with her things were mysteriously different. In his mind he saw again the defining moment of their relationship, the moment when she had reached out to him, offering rescue, offering life. The moment had passed, yet it lived in him still and, he guessed, would always do so.

The need to accept her friendship, trust it, rely on it, was so strong that it sent warning signals. Nothing would ever be the same again. But there was no turning back now.

‘I don’t think I’ll ignore you,’ he said softly, taking her hand. ‘You’re not a woman that’s easy to ignore.’

‘I’ll just vanish if you like.’

‘No,’ he said, his hand tightening on hers so suddenly that she gasped. ‘Stay. I want you to stay.’

‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll stay.’

He led her back to the table and poured her a glass of wine.

‘People always think big families are charming,’ he said after a while. ‘But it can be an illusion. Most of us didn’t grow up together. My father’s family was very poor and he had a hard life, which he was determined to escape at all costs. Some of the things he did don’t look very sympathetic, but maybe if you have to live as he did—’ He made an expressive gesture with his hands.

‘Was he very—?’ She paused delicately.

‘Yes, very. Still is, for that matter. His family were miners, and he was expected to go down the pit. But his father had died down there and hell would freeze over before he went the same way. He did well at school, got top marks in practical subjects like maths. Not literature, or “the soft stuff” as he calls it. He reckons that’s for fools. But with figures there’s nothing he can’t do.

‘So he ran away and managed to start up his own business, just a little market stall, but it grew into a big one, and then bigger, until he got a shop.’

‘He made enough profit to rent a shop? Wow!’

‘Not rent. Buy. By that time he’d married my mother. She came from a rich family and they met when he made deliveries to their house. Her relatives did everything they could to stop the wedding. They believed all he really wanted was her money.’

‘But they gave in at last?’

‘No way. He simply ran off with her. “If you want something, go after it by the shortest route.” That’s his motto. She gave him every penny she had. I know that because I’ve heard her father complaining about it.’

‘But he probably loved her, and you. Surely everything in his life wasn’t about money? It couldn’t be, could it? There’s always something else.’

‘Is there?’ he murmured. ‘Is there?’

His face had changed. Now it wore a look of pain that made her take his hand in hers in a gesture of comfort.

‘Don’t say any more,’ she said. ‘Not if it hurts too much.’

He didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed on the hand holding his, as it had once before. Then it had offered survival, now it offered another kind of life, one he couldn’t describe. He had no talent for words, only figures. She’d spoken of it hurting him too much to talk, but now he knew that the real pain lay in not talking about things that had been shrouded in silence for too long. Somehow the words must come. But only with her.

CHAPTER FIVE

‘I
’LL
tell you something,’ Darius said at last. ‘Falcon isn’t my father’s real name. He chose it for effect.’

‘He wanted to be named after a bird?’

‘No, he discovered that it has connections with a Roman consul and two princes.’

‘You’re kidding me.’

‘Do you mean you’ve never heard of Pompeyo Falco?’ Darius demanded with mock surprise. ‘He was a very powerful Roman. The princes were Spanish, and there’s even supposed to be a saint in the background. Not that he’s ever made too much of that one. Nobody could keep a straight face.’

‘I guess your father isn’t much like a saint.’

‘That’s putting it mildly. He called me Darius because it means “wealthy”. It was his way of signalling what he expected of me.’

Harriet dropped her face into her hands. ‘I can hardly believe it,’ she said at last. ‘It’s like something out of a mad fantasy.’

‘That’s just what it is. I grew up knowing what I had to do to please my father—or else! Luckily, I’d inherited his head for figures, so I was able to live up to at least some of his expectations.’

‘Only some?’

‘He’s not pleased with me at the moment, losing so much money and letting things crumble under me.’

‘But that’s happened to a lot of people.’

‘Doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t have happened to a Falcon. He’s currently considering whether I, or one of my brothers, does him the most credit. At the moment I think I’m bottom of the list.’

Harriet frowned. ‘I think I read somewhere that your brothers come from different parts of the world,’ she said carefully.

‘If you mean that my father spread himself thinly, yes, that’s right. As the business built up he did a lot of travelling, first in England, then abroad. I don’t think he was ever faithful to my mother for five minutes; that’s how, in addition to a full brother, I come to have a half-brother from Russia, one from France, and one from America.

‘In the end my mother couldn’t stand it any more and she left, taking my brother Jackson and me with her. But she died after a few years and my father reclaimed us. By that time he had a new wife and a new son. We entered their house as strangers, and that was how we felt for a long time. Jackson coped better, although even he had a tough time with our stepmother.’

‘She was furious that we were there at all because that meant that her boy, Marcel, wasn’t the eldest. When she caught my father playing around she left him and went back to France. Marcel turned up a few years ago and, oddly enough, we all get on well. Our father has helped him start up in business in Paris, and I understand he’s a real chip off the old block.’

‘More than you?’ she asked shrewdly.

He hesitated before saying, ‘Who can say?’

Greatly daring, she ventured to ask, ‘Is that what you want? To be like him?’

‘I don’t know,’ he said. ‘It’s all become confused. When I was growing up my one thought was to follow in his footsteps and be a power in the land. People were awed by him, they hurried to please him, and that seemed wonderful to me. But I was immature and, as you grow up, things happen to you—’

He grew silent. After a while he repeated softly, ‘I simply don’t know.’

A noise made him look up quickly, smiling as if everything was normal. Nobody, Harriet thought, could guess that the moment of insight had taken him by surprise. Now she felt he was trying to forget it.

‘Ah, here’s Kate with the next course,’ he said cheerfully. ‘And not only Kate.’

Phantom had slipped in and came to curl up near the table.

‘Have you had enough?’ Harriet asked, caressing his ears. ‘Has the guest of honour been properly cared for?’

A soft woof was the reply.

‘How did Phantom happen to be with you and the rest of the crew that night?’ Darius asked when they were alone again. ‘I gather you’d been out on a shout. Don’t tell me he comes too?’

She laughed. ‘No, I left him with my neighbour—’

‘To protect him from me?’

‘Please.’

‘All right, I won’t say it again.’

‘She was out walking him when she saw the boat coming home across the water, so she waited, then came and joined us.’

‘How old is he?’

‘Fourteen, maybe. He belonged to Brad, my husband, before we married, and he’d got him from a home for abandoned dogs, so he wasn’t sure of his age. I know he’s getting on a bit but he’s still full of beans.’

There was a hint of defiance in her voice that warned Darius to go carefully. Fourteen was old for a dog, especially a large one, but not for the world would he have voiced his conviction that she would soon lose her beloved companion.

‘Talking of being full of beans, are you really better?’ she asked.

‘I’m fine now. I’ve spent some time in bed—why that cynical look?’

‘I’m getting to understand you now. All that time in bed, I’ll bet you weren’t alone.’

‘No, I haven’t seduced any willing ladies—’

‘I meant you had your laptop computer with you.’

‘Ah…yes…I see.’ He met her teasing eyes and grinned sheepishly. ‘I fell right into that one, didn’t I? Yes, I did have it with me now and then. But not always. I got a lot of sleep and I have to admit you and Kate were right. It was what I needed. And, as well as rest, I’ve been taking exercise. I go swimming from my private beach. I keep looking out for you, but you’re never there.’

Her eyes widened in theatrical innocence. ‘But how can I be? I don’t have the permission of the owner. He’s a terrible man. When he found me there once before he was very annoyed.’

‘No, you just imagined that.’ He grinned. ‘In future you go there whenever you like. And take Phantom too.’

A soft noise from under the table told him that this was appreciated.

‘And I’m not glued to the computer all the time,’ he continued.

‘No, I’m sure you read the
Financial Times
and
The Wall Street Journal
—’

‘I’ve been reading up about Herringdean and its history. It’s fascinating.’

‘You’ll find that this island is two places,’ she said. ‘We’re not behind the times. There’s plenty of dot-com. But it’s the wildness that makes Herringdean stand out, and draws people.’

‘Have you always lived on the island?’

‘Yes, I was born here.’

‘And your husband?’

‘No, he came over because he worked for a tourist firm, and they were setting up a branch.’

‘And you met, fell in love and married quickly?’

‘A couple of months.’

‘Wow! A decisive lady! How long were you married?’

‘Nearly eight years.’

‘Any children?’

‘No,’ she said quietly.

‘And he died quite recently?’

‘Last year.’ Suddenly she became animated. ‘You know, this coffee is really delicious. Kate is a wonderful cook.’

He was silent. Walter was there in his mind, talking about Harriet’s husband, saying, ‘When he died we thought she might die too, she was so crushed…I don’t reckon she’ll ever really get over him…’

Now the way she’d swerved off the subject seemed to suggest that Walter was right. It was a warning to him to be cautious.

‘What about your children?’ Harriet asked. ‘Have you managed to call them again?’

‘Yes, several times. There’s a dangerous situation building up. Mary’s going to remarry soon, and if I’m not careful I could be elbowed aside.’

‘But you won’t let that happen.’

‘No, I won’t. I had time to do a lot of thinking while I was resting. It’s incredible how being half-awake, half-asleep can make things clear to you.’

Harriet nodded, and for a moment there was a faraway look in her eyes that roused his curiosity. But it vanished before he could speak, and now he thought he understood. Beneath her cheeky schoolgirl charm lurked a woman who kept her true feelings, and even her true self, safely hidden away. In fact, she was mysteriously like himself.

‘So what conclusions have you come to?’ she asked.

‘Not to let myself be sidelined. I try to call them every day.’

‘I’m sure they’re glad of that.’

He made a face. ‘They’re not. I made a hash of it the night of the accident and things haven’t really improved.’

‘Well, you weren’t at ease on the phone, I could hear that, but surely they understood what a state you were in.’

‘Maybe, but I’m seldom much better than I was then. I don’t know what to talk about. It was easier when we were living in the same house, but I’m not really part of their lives any more. Perhaps I never really was. Mary accused me of never putting them first.’

She nodded. ‘Children really do like to feel that they have all your attention,’ she mused.

Suddenly he saw her as she’d been that day in the shop, talking to the little boy as though only he existed in the entire world. And the child had responded with delight. When had he seen such a look on the faces of his own children?

‘You’ve got a fight on your hands,’ she said, ‘but you’ve got to go about it the right way. Do you want some advice from a friend?’

‘If the friend is you, yes.’

‘That night when you called them after the accident I heard her voice on the other end. I couldn’t make out every word but I heard enough to show me an unhappy situation. You told her you’d been “held up” and she said, “You always get held up. The children went to bed crying because you didn’t keep your word.”

‘And then she said, “I’m not going to let you hurt them by putting them last again.”’

She waited to see if he would say anything, but he only clasped his hands on the table and stared at them.