She’d sat herself down on one of the loungers, one long leg extended, the other bent at the knee, looking effortlessly graceful, watching Dan.
But not just Dan…
Xander felt another wash of satisfaction go through him. Totally misplaced, totally superfluous, but most definitely there.
I always knew when she was looking at me, liking what she saw.
And he knew now too. She was trying not to make it obvious, but he could feel her gaze on him as tangibly as he had wanted her to feel his on her. His eyes glinted. It was a two-way street. It always had been.
“Dad, can I swim a width, do you think?” Dan’s interruption was timely.
“Give it a try,” he said, returning his attention to where it should be. His son—only his son. “I’ll walk beside you. Take it steadily.”
It took two attempts, but Dan managed it in the end and was triumphant.
“I did it!” he gasped as he reached the far side.
“You did,” said Xander. “Well done!” He glanced back at Laurel.
“Well done, Dan!” she echoed praisingly.
Xander’s expression changed minutely. “You should come in,” he told her. “That swimsuit of yours shouldn’t stay dry. I can remember—” He cut himself short.
Dan looked at him. “Remember what?” he asked.
Xander went for broke. “I remember once, in Greece, when your mother was on holiday with me there, and we were cruising around the islands—Greece has hundreds of islands—she was sitting on the sun deck reading a book in that swimsuit, saying she wanted to finish the chapter first, but I wanted to go swimming straight away, so—” he made a face “—I scooped her up, dumped the book and chucked her off the boat right into the sea!”
Dan gasped.
Xander looked across at Laurel. “Do you remember?”
“Distinctly,” she said. There was an edge in her voice. But there was something else as well.
Xander went for broke again. Turned back to Dan. “She was so mad at me she swam straight to the beach. We were anchored in a little cove. And she wouldn’t speak to me. I had to kiss her nice again.”
He looked across at Laurel again. “Remember that too?” he said.
He saw the flush come again, felt that wash of satisfaction go through him. Even though he knew it shouldn’t. “As I recall, though—” he cast a sideways glance at Laurel “—you pushed me off the dive platform the next day to get your own back!” Then, belatedly realising his anecdote wasn’t setting his son a laudable example, he said hastily, “But throwing anyone into the water isn’t good, Dan.”
“I won’t,” Dan promised, nodding. Then his attention went back to Laurel. “Mum, come on in!” he called to her pleadingly.
“Okay, okay,” she conceded, getting to her feet.
Xander watched her walk to the edge of the pool, a distinct air of self-consciousness about her. She might be seven years older now, she might have borne a child, but her beauty was only enhanced, matured. Full-breasted, with a slender waist, rounded hips, long legs. As she waded down the shallow steps, water lapping at her body, her breasts, Xander could not take his eyes from her.
Knowing he should not watch her, but unable to look away.
How beautiful she still is. How very, very beautiful.
He should banish the words from his head. They were irrelevant. Quite, quite irrelevant.
Yet they lingered, like his gaze.
Laurel looked about her as they walked into the hotel’s elegant drawing room where afternoon tea was served. Plush, chintz-covered armchairs were grouped around multiple little tables covered with pristine white linen tablecloths, each adorned with a tasteful flower arrangement. A log fire burned in the fireplace with an ornate marble mantel, and the carpet was soft pile, the curtains draped velvet. They were shown to their table, gilt-edged menus presented. Dan had his very own kiddy menu, Xander’s and her own more sophisticated, including a glass of champagne each. She said nothing, but it was clear that afternoon tea here would cost Xander a mint. She’d also been right to think she’d look underdressed, but there was nothing she could do about it. Anyway, she didn’t care. Her wardrobe these days was cheap and practical. And there was no one she had to look smart for, let alone attractive for.
Least of all Xander.
Her face set. Once she had looked her best every day she spent with him. Now she didn’t give a damn what he thought of her appearance. Her expression softened, though, as her eyes went to Dan. He was wearing the smart new clothes Xander had bought him yesterday, clearly enjoying them. As for Xander…
