Laurel felt her heart squeeze.
The week she’d just spent with Dan but without Xander had, she knew—and it troubled her to know it—shown her even more just how very easy it would to be to accept this new life that Xander—courtesy of the Xenakis family’s wealth—could provide for Dan. They could live in this lovely house in this affluent area with no more money worries. Dan could go to that nearby school with all its facilities, its excellent rating. She’d looked it up online and could not but be impressed by its vaunted ethos of character-building and team-playing. Dan could have a very good life here. She could feel herself weakening to accept what Xander wanted her to accept.
Can I really deprive Dan of this?
He had settled in so well, and they’d driven around, exploring the area, and all the while she’d wondered whether to tell Dan they could live here always, if he wanted. But he would say yes, wouldn’t he? And then…
Then there’ll be no going back.
The words were troubling. They troubled her again now as her eyes went to Xander, who was chatting away with Dan. She felt that little jump in her heart rate again, the one she must not allow to happen. Just because Xander had walked back into her life again—
There was no going back from that either.
And somehow, whatever way she could, she was going to have to accept that. Deal with it. Somehow.
Xander stared moodily out over the moonlit gardens from his bedroom window at his hotel. The night air was cooler here in England, but fresh with the fragrance of spring. He was glad to be back. More than glad.
A kick such as he’d never known in his life had gone through him when Dan raced up to him as he’d arrived and that bear hug he’d swept him up in had been the best feeling.
Yet a kick of a different kind had gone through him when he’d set eyes on Laurel. A kick whose cause he could not deny.
His mouth twisted self-mockingly. He’d told her that they had to set aside the enmity between them, but he should set more aside as well—that reaction he got every time he looked at her. Seven years separated them—his failed marriage and a stolen bracelet. All that drew them together was Dan. Nothing else.
He gazed unseeingly over the darkened gardens.
Except that that’s not true—
There was more than Dan drawing them together. There was what had drawn them to each other from the very first. It had been extinguished, forcibly, in the moment he’d seen the glitter of rubies and diamonds in her suitcase. It had been even more forcibly extinguished in the years of his marriage.
But now it was making itself felt again.
Refusing to stay extinguished.
Abruptly, he turned away from the window, pulling the curtains across again. Seven years ago it had taken only a single glance at her sitting at that café reading her history book for him to desire her.
And it was happening again, just as swiftly and every bit as powerfully.
Carrying him along with it.
Laurel was counting the days towards Easter. Because when it had been and gone, Xander would be as well. Taking himself off to Greece for the Orthodox Easter celebrations. Dan would miss him, but she wouldn’t. She’d be relieved. Even with their new agenda of civility and politeness to each other, she could never relax when Xander was around. She was continually wary—aware of him—and it was getting worse.
That constant flickering of her own reaction to him, which ought to be dying away—surely it should?—wasn’t diminishing in the slightest. Nor did it seem to be doing so in Xander either. She could sense his eyes going to her, resting on her, disturbing her. Making her want to meet his eyes, respond to him…
Doggedly, she made to focus on their time with Dan. Giving him a good time and time with Xander. Whether that was Xander getting stuck in to Dan’s enthusiasms, from his construction toys and, most lately, a train set addition, to taking Dan off to the playground by the green, feeding the extremely well-fed ducks on the pond, playing football in the garden, rambling in the woods behind. Or Xander piling them all into his SUV and venturing further afield to yet more sources of entertainment for a six-year-old, from some exciting caves hollowed out of the chalk hills to a fiendish maze at a grand stately home, which also had a miniature railway to entrance Dan.
They went swimming again, too, at Xander’s hotel, though this time Laurel declined to join them.
“You two have fun,” she said. “I’ll just have a coffee at the café.”
Her announcement drew a look from Xander. “Shame,” he murmured. His eyes rested on her a moment, and she looked away quickly.
Protest rose in her. He must realise perfectly well why she was avoiding the pool, avoiding stripping down to a swimsuit, avoiding seeing him stripped down too.
For God’s sake, the last thing he would want is me drooling over him!
And it was the last thing she wanted to do either. Or its corollary. Having his eyes wash over her.
A sense of danger plucked at her, disquieting and disturbing.
