Название: His Child: The Mistress's Child / Nathan's Child / D'Alessandro's Child
Автор: Catherine Spencer
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
isbn: 9781408905845
isbn:
‘But he doesn’t know you properly, and until he does then I’m afraid that I cannot permit him to stay with you. In fact, he probably won’t want to come up to the house without me.’
The expression on his face grew intent. ‘I want bathtimes and bedtimes and all the normal things which fathers do, and if you think I’m cracking my skull on the ceiling of your cottage every time I stand up, then you’ve got another think coming!’
She opened her mouth to object and then shut it again, because she could see from his unshakable stance that to argue would be pointless. ‘I can’t see that happening for a long time,’ she said coldly.
‘We’ll see.’ He gave a bland smile. ‘And in the meantime, I’ll be around on Christmas afternoon. Shall we say around five?’
She couldn’t bring herself to answer him, and so she nodded instead.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘TIM, darling—please don’t eat any more—you’ll be sick!’
‘One more, Mum-mee!’
Lisi lunged towards him, but he had crammed another chocolate in his mouth before she could stop him. She took the stocking away from him firmly. ‘That’s enough chocolate!’ she said sternly. ‘We’ve got tea to get through next.’ And her face fell.
Rachel leaned across the table, holding a bottle of port. ‘Have a glass?’ she suggested. ‘You haven’t got far to go, and it is Christmas Day!’
‘You don’t need to remind me,’ said Lisi gloomily. She looked down at her son, who was busy licking chocolate off the inside of the wrapper. ‘Put that down, darling, and go away and play with Blaine until it’s time to go!’
To her relief, Tim went scampering off, and, after a swift glance at her wrist-watch, Lisi curled her feet up underneath her. Another hour until the avenging Caprice appeared on her doorstep. ‘I could just go to sleep.’ She yawned.
‘On Christmas Day? Show me the mother of a child under ten who couldn’t, and I’ll show you a liar!’ chortled Rachel, and then a look of concern criss-crossed her brow as she glanced across at her friend. ‘You okay?’
Lisi shrugged. ‘As okay as anyone can be when they’re having their arm twisted.’ She had told Rachel everything. She had seen no cause not to. There was no longer any point in keeping anything back. People would know—or guess—soon enough when she and Tim started traipsing down the lane for cosy afternoons and evenings with him!
‘I still can’t believe he’s bought The Old Rectory,’ said Lisi crossly. ‘And what is even more unbelievable is that he railroaded his lawyers into rushing through the deal. They complete in the New Year,’ she finished. ‘What a wonderful way to start the year—Philip Caprice firmly ensconced in my old family home.’
‘I think it’s rather romantic,’ sighed Rachel.
‘Romantic?’ squeaked Lisi.
‘Mmm. I can’t imagine Dave doing something like that—even if he could afford to.’
‘But you wouldn’t want him to, would you?’ asked Lisi, raising her eyebrows in surprise. ‘I thought you said that if you never saw him again, it would be much too soon?’
Rachel shrugged and swirled her port around in the glass, so that it looked like a claret-coloured whirlpool. ‘I suppose not. It’s just that sometimes I get lonely—well, often, actually—and Christmas is the worst. Even if Dave wasn’t the most wonderful husband in the world, at least he was there. I guess I miss having a man around the place.’
And that was the difference between them, thought Lisi—she had been content enough with her single status. Not that she had been anti-men, or anything like that—she just hadn’t particularly missed having a partner. Until she reminded herself that she had never actually had a partner.
‘I’d better think about making a move,’ she said reluctantly, thinking how warm and cosy it was by Rachel’s fireside.
Rachel nodded. ‘You’ll need to change.’
‘Will I hell? There’s nothing wrong with this dress!’
‘Except that Tim has smeared chocolate all over it,’ commented Rachel, with a smile.
Lisi looked down at her dress to see several brown, sticky thumbprints! She smiled at her friend. ‘We’ve had a wonderful time today,’ she said softly.
‘Me, too.’
‘Sure you won’t come over for a drink later on?’
Rachel pulled a face and giggled. ‘And face the daunting Philip Caprice after what you’ve told me about him? Er, I’ll take a rain check, thanks, Lisi!’
Lisi packed up their presents in a carrier bag and wrapped Tim up warmly in his little duffle-coat and the brand-new bobble hat and matching scarf which Santa had brought him. She kissed Rachel and Blaine goodbye and they set off home in the crisp air.
Although it was only just past four, it was already pitch-black and there was a curious silence which had descended over the whole village. But then it was Christmas Day. Everyone was inside, making merry with their families—falling asleep after their big lunches, or playing games or watching weepie films on television.
She let them in and thought how cold the house was. Better light a fire. She drew the curtains and knelt in front of the brand-new toy railway track and began to push one of the trucks around it with her finger. ‘Choo-choo,’ she chanted. ‘Choo-choo!’
‘Me, Mum-mee! Me play with the train!’
She smiled. ‘Go on, then, and I’ll light the fire.’
She efficiently dealt with the logs and paper until the blaze was spitting and glowing. She put the big fire-guard in front of it, and went into her bedroom to change.
She had just stripped off her dress and was standing in her bra and pants when there was a knock at the front door and she glanced at her watch in horror. He couldn’t be here! Not yet. But who else would it be on Christmas afternoon?
Saying a few choice words underneath her breath, she dragged on her dressing gown and opened the front door to find his tall figure dominating her view, blotting out the moon completely. He was carrying presents, but she barely gave them a second glance. Not only had he demanded this visit—he didn’t even have the courtesy to be on time!
‘You’re early!’ she accused.
He thought that no woman had the right to look as sexy as that—not when she was wearing an old flannelette dressing gown which had clearly seen better days—but Lisi did. Maybe it was something to do with the fact that he knew only too well what fabulous curves lay beneath its rather shapeless covering. Or because, for once, she had let her hair fall free and unfettered, spilling in abundant ebony streams to her waist. He had only ever seen it loose once before and he felt the blood begin to sing in his veins as he remembered just when.
‘And СКАЧАТЬ