Those dark, gold-glinting eyes resting on her…
Desiring her…
He slid the door back and turned towards them. And in his eyes, lancing at her, was not desire, but the same look she’d last seen in them, seven long years ago as he’d thrown her off his yacht.
A cold to chill her bones.
Xander flicked his eyes away, dropped them down to Dan. “Let’s take a look at the garden,” he said. As they went out, Dan running eagerly, Xander said over his shoulder to Laurel, “I’ve had a grocery delivery. You can pack it away.”
He didn’t bother to wait for an answer, just headed after Dan, who was purposefully targeting the summer house.
“Can I have this as my den?” Dan asked hopefully.
“Of course,” Xander said. He stepped up beside him on the little wooden veranda and went inside. It was prettily set up, with garden furniture, a tiny kitchenette and colourful bunting decorating the wooden walls. There was a chest in one corner, and opening it revealed a football, a croquet set and badminton rackets and shuttlecocks.
“Cool!” exclaimed Dan, seizing the football.
Moments later they were out on the level lawn, having a kick about. Emotion swept through Xander.
Playing football—with my son—
He felt his heart clench with it…
“Goal!” shouted Dan, as the ball shot past Xander. He gave a laugh, retrieved it, and kicked it back. His precious, precious son. Who would never, never be parted from him again…
His eyes went to the house. Through the kitchen windows he could see Laurel moving, unpacking the grocery delivery.
Emotion swept through him again, but it was not a kindly one…
Not kindly at all.
While Dan and Xander kicked a ball around, Laurel sorted the grocery delivery, stashing things away in the huge fridge and freezer and the ample cupboard space, making herself a cup of tea as she did so. Then she went upstairs to unpack. She’d bought a selection of Dan’s favourite toys and some books, too, as well as clothes to wear. Her thoughts were troubled, how could they not be? She’d tacitly agreed to spend the Easter holidays here, but then what?
The sense of unease she’d felt earlier filled her again. Uncertainty, confusion—consternation.
Am I really prepared to do what Xander wants? Move here, make Dan’s life here?
She just didn’t know.
She drew a breath, closing the drawer she’d placed Dan’s T-shirts in. No, she didn’t know, and she couldn’t, not yet.
I just have to take it day at a time. It’s all I can do.
She went into the bedroom next to Dan’s that she’d chosen for her own. It wasn’t the master, that was on the other side of the landing, but she wanted to be close to Dan. For his sake. For hers. She unpacked her own things, trying to pretend this was just a hotel room, nothing more than that. She couldn’t see the garden from her room. It looked towards the village green, but she heard Dan calling from downstairs.
“Mum, I’m hungry! What’s for tea?”
She headed down. Fresh pasta, as well as sauces and parmesan, had been in the lavish delivery. That was always a favourite for Dan. But as she went into the sitting room, where Xander was resting on one of the two sofas, tablet on his knee, Dan exclaimed, “Dad says we’re having pizzas! Come and choose yours!”
A blade slid into Laurel. Dan had called Xander “Dad.”
Xander’s eyes lifted, going to hers. As if he could read her reaction.
She swallowed. “That’s nice,” she managed to say.
“So, what kind of pizza do you want?” Xander said to her, his voice indifferent.
“Oh, margherita is fine,” she answered.
