For the Sake of Their Son

by Catherine Mann

  Now, he would be wiser. Smoother.

  He would win her over. They’d been partners before. They could be partners again.

  * * *

  Lucy Ann peered out the window of the private jet as they left Africa behind.

  Time for their real journey to begin. It had been challenging enough being together with his friends, celebrating the kind of happily ever after that wasn’t in the cards for her. But now came the bigger challenge—finding a way to parent while Elliot competed in the Formula One circuit. A different country every week—Spain, Monaco, Canada, England. Parties and revelry and yes, decadence, too. She felt guilty for enjoying it all, but she couldn’t deny that she’d missed the travel, experiencing different cultures without a concern for cost. Plus, his close-knit group of friends gave them a band of companionship no matter what corner of the earth he traveled to during racing season.

  She sank deeper into the luxury of the leather sofa, the sleek chrome-and-white interior familiar from their countless trips in the past, with one tremendous exception. Their son was secured into his car seat beside her, sleeping in his new race car pj’s with a lamb’s wool blanket draped over his legs. She touched his impossibly soft cheek, stroking his chubby features with a soothing hand, cupping his head, the dusting of blond hair so like his father’s.

  Her eyes skated to Elliot standing in the open bulkhead, talking to the pilot. Her former best friend and boss grew hotter with each year that passed—not fair. That didn’t stop her from taking in the sight of him in low-slung jeans and a black button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Italian leather loafers. He looked every bit the world-famous race car driver and heartthrob.

  How long would Elliot’s resolution to build a family life for Eli last? Maybe that’s what this trip was about. Proving to him it couldn’t be done. She wouldn’t keep his son from him, but she refused to expose her child to a chaotic life. Eli needed and deserved stability.

  And what did she want?

  She pressed a hand to her stomach, her belly full of butterflies that had nothing to do with a jolt of turbulence. Just the thought of kissing Elliot last night... She dug her fingers into the supple leather sofa to keep from reaching for him as he walked toward her.

  “Would you like something to eat or drink?” he asked, pausing by the kitchenette. “Or something to read?”

  She knew from prior trips that he kept a well-stocked library of the classics as well as the latest bestsellers loaded on ereaders for himself and fellow travelers. In school, he’d always won the class contest for most books read in a year. He told her once those stories offered him an escape from his day-to-day life.

  “No, thank you. The brunch before we left was amazing.”

  True enough, although she hadn’t actually eaten much. She’d been so caught up in replaying the night before. In watching his friends’ happy marriages with their children and babies on the way until her heart ached from all she wanted for her son.

  For herself, as well.

  Elliot slid onto the sofa beside her, leaning over her to adjust the blanket covering Eli’s legs. “Tell me about his routine.”

  She sat upright, not expecting that question at all. “You want to know about Eli’s schedule? Why?”

  “He’s my son.” His throat moved with a long swallow of emotion at the simple sentence. “I should know what he needs.”

  “He has a mom, and he even has a nanny now.” The British nanny was currently in the sleeping quarters reading or napping or whatever nannies did when they realized mothers needed a breather from having them around all the time.

  Elliot tapped Lucy Ann’s chin until she looked at him again. “And he has a dad.”

  “Of course,” she agreed, knowing it was best for Eli, but unused to sharing him. “If you’re asking for diaper duty, you’re more than welcome to it.”

  Would he realize her halfhearted attempt at a joke was meant to ease this tenacious tension between them? They used to be so in tune with each other.

  “Diaper duty? Um, I was thinking about feeding and naps, that kind of thing.”

  “He breastfeeds,” she said bluntly.

  His eyes fell to her chest. The stroke of his gaze made her body hum as tangibly as the airplane engines.

  Elliot finally cleared his throat and said, “Well, that could be problematic for me. But I can bring him to you. I can burp him afterward. He still needs to be burped, right?”

  “Unless you want to be covered in baby spit-up.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  He pulled his eyes up to her face. “Does he bottle-feed, too? If so, I can help out that way.”

  Fine, he wanted to play this game, then she would meet him point for point. “You genuinely think you can wake up during the night and then race the next day?”

  “If you can function on minimal sleep, then so can I. You need to accept that we’re in this together now.”

  He sounded serious. But then other than his playboy ways, he was a good man. A good friend. A philanthropist who chose to stay anonymous with his donations. She knew about them only through her work as his assistant.

  “That’s why I agreed to come with you, for Eli and in honor of our friendship in the past.”

  “Good, good. I’m glad you haven’t forgotten those years. That friendship is something we can build on. But I’m not going to deny the attraction, Lucy Ann.” He slid his arm along the back of the sofa seat, stretching his legs out in front of him. “I can’t. You’ve always been pretty, but you looked incredible last night. Motherhood suits you.”

  “Flattery?” She picked up his arm and moved it to his lap. “Like flowers and candy? An obvious arm along the back? Surely you’ve got better moves than that.”

  “Are you saying compliments are wasted on you?” He picked up a lock of her hair, teasing it between two fingers. “What if I’m telling the truth about how beautiful you are and how much I want to touch you?”

  She rolled her eyes, even though she could swear electricity crackled up the strand of hair he held. “I’ve watched your moves on women for years, remember?”

  “It’s not a move.” He released the lock and smoothed it into the rest before crossing his arms. “If I were planning a calculated seduction for you, I would have catered a dinner, with a violin.”

  She crinkled her nose. “A violin? Really?”

  “No privacy. Right.” His emerald eyes studied her, the wheels in his brain clearly churning. “Maybe I would kiss you on the cheek, distract you by nuzzling your ear while tucking concert tickets into your pocket.”

  “Concert tickets?” She lifted an eyebrow with interest. They’d gone to free concerts in the park when they were teenagers.

  “We would fly out to a show in another country, France or Japan perhaps.”

  She shook her head. “You’re going way overboard. Too obvious. Rein it in, be personal.”

  “Flowers...” He snapped his fingers. “No wait. A single flower, something different, like a sprig of jasmine because the scent reminds me of you.”

  That silenced her for a moment. “You know my perfume?”

  He dipped his head toward her ever so slightly as if catching a whiff of her fragrance even now. “I know you smell like home in all the good ways. And I have some very good memories of home. They all include you.”

  Damn him, he was getting to her. His words affected her but she refused to let him see that. She schooled her features, smiling slightly. “Your moves have improved.”

  “I’m only speaking the truth.” His words rang with honesty, his eyes heated with attraction.

  “I do appreciate that about you, how we used to be able to tell each other anything.” Their friendship had given her more than support. He’d given her hope that they could leave their pasts behind in a cloud of dust. “If
we can agree to be honest now, that will work best.”

  “And no more secrets.”

  She could swear a whisper of hurt smoked through his eyes.

  Guilt stabbed through her all over again. She owed him and there was no escaping that. “I truly am sorry I held back about Eli. That was wrong of me. Can you forgive me?”

  “I have to, don’t I?”

  “No.” She swallowed hard. “You don’t.”

  “If I want us to be at peace―” he reached out and took her hand, the calluses on his fingertips a sweet abrasion along her skin “―then yes, I do.”

  She wasn’t sure how that honest answer settled within her because it implied he wasn’t really okay with what she’d done. He was only moving past it out of necessity. The way he’d shrugged off all the wrongs his father had done because he had no choice.

  Guilt hammered her harder with every heartbeat, and she didn’t have a clue how to make this right with him. She had as little practice with forgiveness and restitution as he did.

  So she simply said, “Peace is a very good thing.”

  “Peace doesn’t have to be bland.” His thumb stroked the inside of her wrist.

  Her pulse kicked up under his gentle stroking. “I didn’t say that.”

  “Your tone totally implied it. You all but said ‘boring.’” His shoulder brushed hers as he settled in closer, seducing her with his words, his husky tones every bit as much as his touch. “A truce can give freedom for all sorts of things we never considered before.”

  “News flash, Elliot. The kissing part. We’ve considered that before.”

  “Nice.” He clasped her wrist. “You’re injecting some of your spunky nature into the peace. That’s good. Exciting. As brilliantly shiny as your hair with those new streaks of honey added by the Carolina sun.”

  Ah, now she knew why he’d been playing with her hair. “Added by my hairdresser.”

  “Liar.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I’m willing to bet you’ve been squirrelling away every penny you make. I can read you—most of the time.” He skimmed his hand up her arm to stroke her hair back over her shoulder. “While I know that you want me, I can’t gauge what you intend to do about that, because make no mistake, I want us to pursue that. I said before that motherhood agrees with you and I meant it. You drove me crazy last night in that evening gown.”

  He continued to stroke her arm, but she couldn’t help but think if she moved even a little, his hand would brush her breast. Even the phantom notion of that touch had her tingling with need.

  She worked to keep her voice dry—and to keep from grabbing him by the shirtfront and hauling him toward her. “You’re taking charming to a new level. I’m impressed.”

  “Good. But are you seduced?”

  “You’re good, and I’m enticed,” she said, figuring she might as well be honest. No use denying the obvious. “But Elliot, this isn’t a fairy tale. Our future is not going to be some fairy tale.”

  He smiled slowly, his green eyes lighting with a promise as his hand slid away. “It can be.”

  Without another word, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Going to sleep? Her whole body was on fire from his touch, his words—his seduction. And he’d simply gone to sleep. She wanted to shout in frustration.

  Worse yet, she wanted him to recline her back on the sofa and make love to her as thoroughly as he’d done eleven months ago.

  Six

  By nightfall in Spain, Elliot wondered how Lucy Ann would react to their lodgings for the night. The limousine wound deeper into the historic district, farther from the racetrack than they normally stayed. But he had new ideas for these next few weeks, based on what Lucy Ann had said on the plane.

  After the fairy-tale discussion, inspiration had struck. He’d forced himself to make a tactical retreat so he could regroup. Best not to risk pushing her further and having her shut him down altogether before he could put his plan into action to persuade her to stay longer than the month.

  Once she was tucked into the back room on the airplane to nurse Eli, Elliot had made a few calls and set the wheels in motion to change their accommodations along the way. A large bank account and a hefty dose of fame worked wonders for making things happen fast. He just hoped his new agenda would impress Lucy Ann. Winning her over was becoming more pressing by the second. Not just for Eli but because Elliot’s life had been damn empty without her. He hadn’t realized just how much until he had her back. The way her presence made everything around him more vibrant. Hell, even her organized nature, which he used to tease her about. She brought a focus, a grounding and a beauty to his world that he didn’t want to lose again.

  Failure was not an option.

  He’d made himself a checklist, just like he kept for his work. People thought he was impulsive, reckless even, but there was a science to his job. Mathematics. Calculations. He studied all the details and contingencies until they became so deeply ingrained they were instinct.

  Still, he refused to become complacent. He reviewed that checklist before every race as if he were a rookie driver. Now he needed to apply the same principles to winning back Lucy Ann’s friendship...and more.

  Their new “hotel” took shape on the top of the hill, the Spanish sunset adding the perfect dusky aura to their new accommodations.

  In the seat across from him, Lucy Ann sat up straighter, looking from the window to him with confusion stamped on her lovely face.

  “This isn’t where you usually stay. This is...a castle.”

  “Exactly.”

  The restored medieval castle provided safety and space, privacy and romance. He could give her the fairy tale while making sure Lucy Ann and their son were protected. He could—and would—provide all the things a real partner and father provided. He would be everything his father wasn’t.

  “Change of plans for our stay.”

  “Because...?”

  “We need more space and less chance of interruptions.” He couldn’t wait to have her all to himself. Damn, he’d missed her.

  “But pandering to the paparazzi plays an important role in your PR.” She hugged the diaper bag closer to her chest; the baby’s bag, her camera and her computer had been the only things she’d insisted on bringing with her from home.

  “Pandering?” He forced himself to focus on her words rather than the sound of her voice. Her lyrical Southern drawl was like honey along his starved senses. “That’s not a word I’m particularly comfortable with. Playing along with them, perhaps. Regardless, they don’t own me, and I absolutely will not allow them to have access to you and our son on anything other than our own terms.”

  “Wow, okay.” Her eyes went wide before she grinned wryly. “But did you have to rent a castle?”

  He wondered if he’d screwed up by going overboard, but her smile reassured him he’d struck gold by surprising her.

  “It’s a castle converted to a hotel, although yes, it’s more secure and roomier.” Safer, but also with romantic overtones he hoped would score points. “I thought in each place we stay, we could explore a different option for traveling with a child.”

  “This is...an interesting option,” she conceded as the limousine cruised along the sweeping driveway leading up to the towering stone castle. Ivy scrolled up toward the turrets, the walls beneath baked brown with time. Only a few more minutes and the chauffeur would open the door.

  Elliot chose his words wisely to set the stage before they went inside. “Remember how when we were kids, we hid in the woods and tossed blankets over branches? I called them forts, but you called them castles. I was cool with that as long as I got to be a knight rather than some pansy prince.”

  They’d climbed into those castle forts where he’d read for hours while she colored or drew pictures.
<
br />   “Pansy prince?” She chuckled, tapping his chest. “You are anti-fairy-tale. What happened to the kid who used to lose himself in storybooks?”

  He captured her finger and held on for a second before linking hands. “There are knights in fairy tales. And there are definitely castles.”

  “Is that what this is about?” She left her hand in his. “Showing me a fairy tale?”

  “Think about coming here in the future with Eli.” He stared at his son’s sleeping face and images filled his head of their child walking, playing, a toddler with his hair and Lucy Ann’s freckles. “Our son can pretend to be a knight or a prince, whatever he chooses, in a real castle. How freaking cool is that?”

  “Very cool.” A smile teased her kissable pink lips. “But this place is a long way from our tattered quilt forts in the woods.”

  His own smile faded. “Different from our childhood is a very good thing.”

  Her whole body swayed toward him, and she cupped his face. “Elliot, it’s good that our child won’t suffer the way we did, but what your father did to you...that had nothing to do with money.”

  Lucy Ann’s sympathy, the pain for him that shone in her eyes, rocked the ground under him. He needed to regain control. He’d left that part of his life behind and he had no desire to revisit it even in his thoughts. So he deflected as he always did, keeping things light.

  “I like it when you get prissy.” He winked. “That’s really sexy.”

  “Elliot, this isn’t the time to joke around. We have some very serious decisions to make this month.”

  “I’m completely serious. Cross my heart.” He pressed their clasped hands against his chest. “It makes me want to ruffle your feathers.”

  “Stop. It.” She tugged free. “We’re talking about Eli. Not us.”

  “That’s why we’re at a castle, for Eli,” he insisted as the limousine stopped in front of the sprawling fortress. “Einstein said, ‘The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination.’ That’s what we can offer our son with this unique lifestyle. The opportunity to explore his imagination around the world, to see those things that we only read about. You don’t have to answer. Just think on it while we’re here.”