“How are you enjoying barbecue for Christmas Dinner?” she asked.
He laughed. “Yeah. Weird. I’m used to the windows steaming up from the turkey dinner, you know? But I prefer it this way.”
“Oh, I’m glad.” She smiled. “I’m also glad Dad didn’t give you too hard a time.”
“Me too,” he said wryly. “Although in actual fact I think he let me off pretty lightly.”
“You hadn’t done anything wrong,” she pointed out.
He shrugged. “I wouldn’t have been surprised if he thought I had. But then he’s never seen things the same way I have.”
His phone sang in his pocket, and he took it out and flipped it open. Megan watched him read a text as she puzzled over his words. He’s never seen things the same way I have. What did he mean by that?
She wondered who’d sent the text. He’d told her he wasn’t seeing anyone. From one of his half-brothers, maybe?
He frowned. “It’s from Ben.”
She knew he was one of the members of the board and his father’s oldest friend. “Oh?”
“He wants me to ring him, now.”
That confused her. She checked her watch. “It’s only five in the morning there, isn’t it?”
“Four actually—they’re thirteen hours behind us because of daylight saving.”
“That’s odd.”
“Yeah.” He pushed himself to his feet. “I’d better ring.”
“You can use the phone in the living room.”
“Will your folks mind an international call?”
“No, they have a plan with Telecom because Mum calls her sister in the UK every week. Don’t worry about it.”
He nodded and went into the living room.
Almost immediately he came out again. “Harry’s awake.”
“Oh, okay.” She got up and followed him inside. The baby stirred, and the fullness of her breasts suggested he was ready for his tea.
“I’d better feed him,” she said, unclipping him and lifting him out. “I’ll go into the bedroom.”
“No, stay,” Dion said, surprising her. He paused and met her gaze. “If you want.”
“Sure.” She sank onto the sofa, cuddled Harry to her and put him to the breast. Then she watched Dion make the call.
He walked up to the sliding doors and looked down on the kids playing in the pool as he waited for someone to answer. She laid her head on the back of the sofa and took the opportunity to admire his broad back and long legs, the way the sun had brought a flush to his skin, how his hair had remained ruffled after the swim in the pool. He was a fine figure of a man. Had he really not been with anyone since Prague?
“Ben?” Dion cleared his throat. “It’s Dion. Yeah.” He moved away from the window and paced slowly through the living room. “I know. What the hell are you texting me for at this hour? Kids wake you up?” He stopped and glanced across at Megan. “Oh?”
Her heart began to race. It wasn’t good news.
Dion nodded. “Yeah. Last night? And how…” His voice tailed off. His face went pale.
Oh no.
He swallowed and met her gaze as he lowered the phone. “My dad died at half past two this morning.”
Chapter Eighteen
Dion went completely numb, and for a moment it was as if his body had shut down and he couldn’t speak or move or even think clearly. The shock on Megan’s face reminded him he hadn’t yet hung up, and he turned away and raised the receiver to his ear again, walking back to the sliding doors in the hope that the warm sun slanting through them would warm his suddenly clammy skin.
“Dion?” Ben said. “Are you still there?”
“I’m here,” Dion said hoarsely. “Sorry.”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. How’s the family?” Dion spoke stonily. After his father and stepmother had divorced, he’d hardly seen her at all, and he’d never had a lot of love for his half-brothers. They were too like his father—cold and calculating, and now that Jack had been made CEO, he felt even less love for him.
“They’re okay—they were expecting it. He’s not been well the past week.”
“When’s the funeral?” Dion asked, his head spinning.
“Not sure yet, what with Christmas and everything. It’ll probably be a week at least.”
“I’ll come back,” Dion said, not wanting to look at Megan.
“Of course,” Ben said. “But…look, don’t hurry. Take your time. Things are okay here. Rebecca’s organising everything.”
That didn’t surprise Dion. His sister-in-law would be in her element at a moment like this.
Then shame flooded him at thinking such a cruel thing. Although his father and stepmother were divorced, it would still be difficult for her, and he was glad she had her children there to support her. And he was glad Jack had a supportive wife. But he felt as if he was standing outside a shop window in the cold, looking in at them sitting together around a warm fire. He’d always been the outsider, even though he’d tried his hardest for his father.
“…left a letter,” Ben was saying now.
Dion shook himself mentally. “Sorry, what?”
“Your father. He dictated a letter to me for you before he died. He wanted me to read it to you. It’s not long—he was very weak by this stage. Are you sitting down?”
Dion froze from the inside out. He couldn’t have moved even if he’d wanted to. “Go on.”
“Okay.
‘Son. I know you hate me for not appointing you CEO. And I know you won’t believe me. But I did it for you. I didn’t want you to turn out like the others. Like me. Work isn’t everything. And I want you to have what you deserve—a woman who loves you and children who adore you. Things I didn’t have. I’m doing you a favour boy. Follow your heart.’”
Ben fell silent.
Emotion washed over Dion. Fury and cold, hard anger. “That’s it?”
“That’s it.”
“He decided not to give me the job out of the goodness of his heart?”
“Dion—”
But he clipped his phone shut, cutting the man off, unable to hear the platitudes he knew would follow, oh he meant well, and but he loved you really.
He turned, but to his surprise Megan and Harry had gone. And suddenly his legs wouldn’t hold out any longer. He sank onto the sofa, nausea rising inside him, and for a moment he worried he’d throw up on the carpet.
He put his head in his hands. He’d left love behind because he’d been young and he’d wanted the things a great career could bring him—social standing, money, success and stability. He hadn’t understood then what a lonely path it would be. But fate had been kind and given him not only Lauren, who’d loved him, but also a second chance at love with Megan in Prague, only once again for him to turn his back on them both because he’d been too busy focussing on the job. And now he’d lost what he’d sacrificed everything for, because his father had had the grand notion that in denying him it, he’d force him to find happiness.
How fucking ironic.
Megan. Oh God, Megan, what have I done?
Chapter Nineteen
Megan worked quickly as soon as she heard Dion’s news. First, with Harry still at the breast, she told Sean and Gaby what had happened, and discussed with them what to do. Then while Sean went to sit with Dion, she finished feeding Harry in the spare room while expressing with the other breast. He’d taken a bottle several times when Gaby had looked after him for her, so she knew it would give her a few hours.
When Harry finished his feed, she found Gaby and handed Harry over along with all the paraphernalia that he came with.
Then she came back to find Dion.
Sean hovered anxiously while Dion stood by the living room windows, looking down at the pool at the kids splashing around and yelling. She thought that maybe she had an idea of how strange he felt—unused to the heat, still slightly jet lagged, his world falling apart until it hung in shreds around him, and he couldn’t see how to
put it back together again.
She walked over to him and touched him on the arm. “Dion?”
He turned blank, emotionless eyes to her as if puzzled to see her there.
“Come on,” she said. “I’m taking you back to Sean’s.”
“I’m okay,” he said.
“I know.” She tugged his arm gently. “Come on.”
He went with her obediently. Her parents met them by the door, having been informed by Sean what had happened. Her mother gave Dion a hug, and after a brief pause he returned it, a glimmer of emotion crossing his face.
Richard shook his hand. “I’m sorry, Dion,” he said. “Call us if you need anything.”
Dion nodded but didn’t reply, and Megan took his hand and led him down the drive to her car. Sean followed, hesitating as Dion went around the passenger side and got in.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” Sean asked her quietly, frowning.
“We’ll be fine. He just needs some space. Can you imagine how weird this is for him?” She gestured to the pool and barbecue. “He might as well be on Mars. Give us a few hours if you can. Harry should be all right until eight or nine.”
Sean nodded. “Give me a ring if there’s anything we can do.”
“Sure.”
She got in the car beside Dion, started the engine and drove away, giving Sean a final wave goodbye.
The roads were quiet, and she threaded through the town quickly, soon heading out on the country road toward Opito Bay. Dion leaned his head back on the rest and looked out of the window, still silent.
Megan bit her lip. Should she try to get him to talk about it? She wasn’t sure what Ben had said to him at the end to make him so mad, but it obviously had something to do with the death of his father.
She left it for a while to see whether he’d start the conversation, but when it became apparent that he wasn’t going to, she took a breath and plunged in.
“You want to talk about it?”
For a moment he didn’t say anything. He sighed though, and her hand itched to reach out and grab his in an attempt at reassurance, but she made herself sit still.
“Not much to say,” he said eventually, his voice flat.
“You want to tell me what Ben said at the end?”
He rolled his head on the rest to look at her. She glanced across, not sure what emotion was in his eyes.
He looked back out of the window. “My dad dictated a letter to Ben before he died. Something along the lines of ‘I gave the job to someone else because I love you so much.’” He rubbed at a mark on the window with his thumb.
Clearly that wasn’t the whole story, because it didn’t make sense.
She held her tongue for the moment though as they were nearing the house. She signalled at the turning for the marina, swept the car over the hill and down to the house and parked out the front.
“Thanks,” Dion said, his hand on the door handle. “I appreciate it.”
“I’m coming in,” she said firmly. “Sean and Gaby are going to bring Harry home with them.”
“There’s no need to stay.” His eyes were cool.
“I’m not leaving you.” She didn’t wait for him to answer and got out of the car, went over to the front door and unlocked it.
He followed her inside and shut the door behind him. She walked across the wooden floor to the large sliding doors to the deck and opened them, letting in some of the sea breeze. The house was stifling, and a bead of sweat ran down between her breasts.
Dion stood in the centre of the floor, his hands in the pockets of his shorts, and she had a sudden vision of him looking exactly the same nine years ago, on the day he’d left for England. He’d looked lost then, and she yearned to go over and hug him, but she wasn’t sure what his reaction would be.
Instead, she went to the drinks cabinet and took out a bottle of Glenfiddich. Without asking, she poured a generous measure, added some ice cubes and brought it over to him. “You’ve had a huge shock. Come and sit down and have a drink.”
He took the glass. “You’re not having one?”
“I can’t while I’m breastfeeding or Harry will be comatose.” She tipped her head. “On second thought, that sounds like good idea…”
He attempted a smile, failed and walked across to the window. She went with him, watching as he closed his eyes and let the breeze play across his face.
“What did Ben actually say?” she pressed. “Why did your dad not give you the job? I assumed one of his other sons was his favourite, but it doesn’t sound like that was the reason.”
“He said he did it because he didn’t want me to turn out like the others—like him.” Dion spoke flatly. “He wants me to go and play happy families. To find myself, or some other shit like that.”
Megan’s heart rate increased. He was angry, and rightly so. But she had to try and get him past his anger, because only then would he be able to grieve.
“So he had your best interests at heart,” she said softly.
He turned irritable eyes on her. “It was an excuse, Megan. He’s always wanted to give the company to Jack and he’s tried to cover his devious move in a layer of well meaning, but it’s bullshit. He’s never thought of anyone else, from the moment he let my mother move to New Zealand to forcing me to move back to England with him. He’s only ever done what he wants, and fuck everyone else.”
“Perhaps you should give some thought to the fact that maybe he did have your best interests at heart by not giving you the job. He’s been divorced twice, and from what I’ve heard it doesn’t sound like he was a very happy man, especially toward the end. Maybe he came to realise that status and achievement in your career are great, but they aren’t everything.”
“It wasn’t his decision to make,” he snapped.
“Maybe not, but that doesn’t change the fact that he obviously thought it was the best thing for you.”
Dion turned back to the view, the hand not holding the glass clenching at his side. “I’ve worked so hard to get to the top—you have no idea how many hours I’ve put into that company.”
“But that’s the point,” she said earnestly. “He obviously saw you break up with Lauren—he must have realised she loved you. It would have been hard for him to watch you throw away that chance of having a family, especially when he’s done the same, twice.”
“Everyone knows what’s best for me,” he said bitterly. He turned to face her then, his eyes hard. He took a long swig of the whisky as his eyes ran down her and then back up. “Including you.”
Uh-oh. “Dion…”
“I’m sick of everyone making decisions for me. Why does everyone want to control me?”
“It’s not about controlling you.” She started to wish she hadn’t tried to get him to talk.
“Oh really?”
Impatience flooded her. “It’s not always about you.”
“So you didn’t tell me about the baby because you thought it would be best for Harry not to have a father?”
“Of course not!” She tried to rein in her anger. “Look, you’re upset and angry, I understand that. Maybe I should go and we can talk about this later…”
“No.” He set his jaw. “You wanted to come in—you wanted to talk. Let’s talk.”
Chapter Twenty
Dion knew he was making Megan uncomfortable, but he was beyond reasonable thought. Frustration at his father’s decision had pushed him to this point, and opening the floodgates to his emotions had let his hurt regarding her decision not to tell him he was a father come bubbling to the surface.
To her credit, she just lifted her chin and met his gaze boldly. “Go on then. What do you want to say?”
He hesitated, not sure how to put his pain into words. “I still can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were pregnant.” He moved a bit closer, noting the tanned, smooth skin of her throat and collarbone above her hot pink vest, the generous swell of her breasts, unable to smother the surge of desire that welled inside him, eve
n though he was angry with her. “We made another person, Megan. How could you keep that from me?”
She swallowed, but kept her gaze on his. “You made it very clear when we were together that you weren’t looking for a relationship or for a family. You told me that’s why you broke up with Lauren.”
“Even so.” Irrationally, resentfulness and jealously rose inside him that she’d chosen the course of action without taking his wishes into account. “It was an incredibly selfish thing to do.”
“Selfish?” Puzzlement morphed on her face into incredulousness. “I did it for you!”
“You removed me from the decision-making process for my own good?” He gave a brief, humourless laugh. “Thank you for being so thoughtful.”
Twin spots of red burned on her cheeks. “Don’t make fun of me. I thought if I told you about Harry, you’d just reject us, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that.”
He glared at her. “That’s a coward’s excuse.”
“Maybe. But you’d already left me once.”
He ground his teeth. “Your father threw me out of his home, remember?”
“I didn’t mean then. I meant in Prague.” She stopped and bit her lip.
He stared. “You’re going to throw that in my face? We both decided it would only be for the one night. We lived on opposite sides of the world. I was in the middle of the biggest business deal of my life.”
“Even so. You must have realised how I felt about you, Dion.”
He ran a hand through his hair, finished off his whisky and banged the glass onto the table. “So we got on well and we had a great time. So what? I was supposed to throw away my career for one quick fuck?” Even if it was the best fuck of my life.
Her sharp gaze scored him. “And you wonder why I didn’t tell you I was pregnant?”
“I wish you had,” he snapped, shocked to find himself near to tears. “Then maybe I could have talked you into an abortion.”
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