‘Yes.’ He put the glass in her hand. ‘One glass is not going to hurt you. I’m sorry I did it that way but I wanted you to be sure I wasn’t covering anything up.’

‘I don’t think however you did it would have made any difference.’ She sniffed and licked some salty tears from her lips. Then she looked across at him bravely. ‘How did you work it out?’

He looked away briefly. ‘Right from the start Tim was at the back of my mind. We have been mistaken for each other occasionally. He does bear me a grudge.’

‘But you didn’t tell me-’

‘Maisie,’ he interrupted, ‘I didn’t know for sure it was Tim, but if it was, I had no way of knowing you weren’t in cahoots with him.’

She digested this with widening eyes, but in light of the revelations she’d so recently been party to, she had to concede he had a point.

‘How did you get him to agree to acknowledge the baby?’

‘Don’t ask.’ He rubbed his jaw. ‘So?’

‘He said-’ She stopped as she heard the waitress climbing the stairs. The first course she brought was asparagus soup.

‘He said?’ Rafe prompted as she left them alone.

‘He said that he had good cause to bear you a grudge. That you’d inherited what he should have and he’d had to grow up in your shadow and he’d had to-grin and bear it.’

Rafe picked up his spoon. ‘It had nothing to do with me. Tim’s father was my mother’s brother. In the natural course of events he would have inherited the Dixon empire. But he fell out with his father, my grandfather-he was caught red-handed siphoning off profits, and worse-and disinherited. Most if it went to my mother as the oldest child, and all the others were girls. Eat something, Maisie.’

She crumbled the roll on her plate and tasted the asparagus soup; it was delicious but she had no appetite, although she forced herself to take a few spoonfuls.

‘Then,’ Rafe went on, ‘Tim’s father, my uncle, died in a parachuting accident when Tim was about six. My mother took pity on Tim, and his mother, and she brought them into the family; my grandfather had died by then. She paid for Tim’s schooling and university and she set up a trust fund for him and his mother. And he and I did spend a lot of time together at Karoo as we grew up.’

‘Did you realise how much he resented you?’ Maisie asked.

Rafe looked out over the darkened water for a long time. ‘He kept it to himself until my mother died. We were in our mid-twenties. Then he dropped a bombshell-that he intended to sue me for what he claimed was his rightful inheritance.’

Maisie put her spoon down and pushed her soup away and took a sip of wine.

‘It was settled out of court,’ Rafe went on. ‘Not that we felt he had any leg to stand on, particularly since it was my father and a lot of Sanderson money that had saved the Dixon empire from collapse because of drought and low wool prices by then-something Tim wasn’t aware of.’

Rafe finished his soup and reached for his wine. He swirled his glass and looked down at the pale gold depths before looking at Maisie. ‘But we decided to make Tim a settlement on the condition that he made no more claims. He agreed. Sad to say,’ Rafe paused, ‘it looks as if he’s gone through that, as well as the trust.’

Tears brimmed, causing Maisie’s green eyes to sparkle in the candlelight. ‘It wouldn’t-it wouldn’t have been easy for him, though.’

Rafe studied her and thought his own thoughts. Was she still a little in love with his cousin? His mouth tightened briefly.

‘Does that mean you want him back?’ he asked abruptly.

‘Oh, no.’ Maisie shook her head.

‘It sounds as if you’re feeling sorry for him, all the same,’ he pointed out.

‘No.’ Maisie cupped her face and propped her elbows on the table. What had she meant? she wondered. It fell into place unexpectedly. She wanted some mitigating circumstances for the father of her baby. Some way not to think of him with utter bitterness and contempt because he was going to be a part of her baby, whether she liked it or not. But how to explain that?

She sighed. ‘No. It’s over.’

‘Tim Dixon,’ Rafe said slowly, ‘can be irresistible, until you really get to know him.’

‘Thank you,’ she whispered.

They were on their next course, fish of the day which happened to be delectable fresh-caught wahoo, when Maisie started to feel a little less traumatised and able to think of other things.

‘So I guess this is the end of the line for us,’ she murmured.

‘Maisie.’ He paused.

She allowed her gaze to roam over him briefly, taking in the angles and shadows of his face, as he appeared to debate internally with himself. Not only was it a good-looking face, but it could also be alight with intelligence, breathtakingly attractive when he laughed and frustratingly enigmatic in repose as you wondered how really to reach this man.

Plus there were the lean, strong lines of his broad shoulders beneath his shirt, his long, lovely hands-and she felt an awful pang in her breast because there might not be many more occasions for her to feast her eyes on Rafe Sanderson.

If she wasn’t for him, and she knew she could never be-how could he ever forget, how could she ever forget she was carrying another man’s child, and not only that, but also whose child it was. He touched something within her that, she now realised, Tim Dixon had never touched.

What a time and what a way to find it out, she thought.

‘Maisie,’ he said as if he’d rethought what he’d been going to say moments ago, ‘where will you live? You said something about selling your parents’ house.’

Surprise caused her to blink, and, she was to realise later, caused her to answer incautiously, ‘I’d love to be able to stay on in the house. I don’t feel so lonely there now as I first did and it brings back-’ she tipped her head ‘-memories I cherish. But it’s not possible, so I’ll probably rent a place once it’s sold, where I can give piano lessons.’

He carefully dissected a piece of fish and removed a bone. ‘You will be able to stay on. I’ll make it possible.’

Maisie put down her knife and fork as the implication sank in and she remembered Tim Dixon’s words that had so incensed her…

‘No, I don’t want anyone’s charity, let alone yours,’ she said.

He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Let alone mine?’

‘I-I…’ She couldn’t go on.

‘Why particularly not mine, Maisie?’

She read the determination in his eyes to get an answer.

‘B-because-because I need to get away from all this. I need to be able to put it all behind me and make a fresh start. I-’

‘Who said anything to the contrary?’ he queried.

Her throat worked. ‘It’s dreadfully hard to explain, but I just would rather-do it my way. I mean, thank you, I appreciate your thoughtfulness-’

‘Maisie, your baby is a Dixon whether you like it or not,’ he interrupted impatiently.

‘What-what does that mean?’ she stammered.

‘We-apart from Tim,’ he said drily, ‘do not abandon our seed to an unknown fate.’

She fired up suddenly. ‘It’s not an unknown fate!’

He tipped a hand. ‘Perhaps I could have phrased that a little differently. But surely, for a girl in your position, it’s got to be welcome news that you’ll have some back-up?’

She stared at him. Yes, it would be, in other circumstances, she had to admit. But if it meant it was going to bring her into frequent contact with this man, who was going to be hard enough to forget anyway, how much more difficult was it going to make life for her?

‘I can’t think straight,’ she confessed. ‘Look, the best thing is probably for me to go home tomorrow and just-relax and let it all settle.’

He smiled slightly. ‘Good thinking actually. You can come with me.’

‘Oh, I have an open-return ticket-’

‘Maisie Wallis,’ he said dangerously, ‘don’t argue with me.’

She subsided. ‘Well, thank you, I guess I won’t have to change planes and sit around airports-and I’m starting to feel exhausted.’

‘You’re starting to look it. Go to bed,’ he recommended. ‘I’ll make some excuse about dessert.’

But the thought of sharing a room with him suddenly hit her and he must have seen the confusion in her eyes.

He said, ‘The room next door was vacated this afternoon. I’ve booked it.’

‘But-how’s that going to look? Or have you told them we’re not married?’

He grimaced. ‘I thought you’d be relieved. No, I haven’t told them-if the task was up to you, how would you go about it?’ He eyed her.

Maisie opened and closed her mouth several times but nothing came out.

‘Precisely,’ he murmured.

‘Yes, but…’

‘I’ve told them I need to work tonight and I don’t want to disturb you. They quite understood.’

‘All right,’ she said after a moment.

Rafe sat by himself for a while in the Tree House and pondered the events of the day.

Such as Tim Dixon coolly admitting that, since he sometimes did get mistaken for his all-powerful cousin-it had actually happened at the wedding where he’d first laid eyes on Mairead Wallis-he might as well put it to good use as a means to attract women.

Tim Dixon, looking amused, as he recounted the irony of Maisie never having heard the name. For that matter the irony of discovering she was not nearly as sophisticated as she looked.

The it was just one of those unfortunate things attitude he’d displayed when he’d gone on to explain he hadn’t set out to get Maisie pregnant. It had been an oversight, she’d been innocent enough to be deceived, and anyway, how many virgins fell pregnant the first time?

And finally the bitter antagonism that had intensified when Tim Dixon had gone on to explain that he hadn’t meant to walk away so soon either-not that he’d ever had any plans to marry Maisie-but several creditors had chosen to make flight his only option over a jail sentence at that time, and Tonga had seemed to be the answer.