It dinged, and the doors slid open. Taking Ryan’s hand, she walked into the hallway.
Chapter Twenty
Ahead of Erin on the high wall was a huge painting of an elegant woman in a black evening dress carrying a bouquet of flowers, her hair pinned up in a bun.
She stopped and studied it. “Is that… Fleur?”
Brock chuckled. “No. It came with the apartment.”
Even so, it unsettled her, and she’d only just walked in. The woman’s appearance summarized everything about Brock having money that made Erin uncomfortable. The evening dress, the fancy hairdo, her pale skin, her slim figure, the high heels, the pearls around her neck… He would be used to being with this sort of woman.
Erin suddenly felt very aware of her tanned skin shiny with sun lotion, her scruffy hair scraped back in a ponytail, her faded T-shirt and well-worn shorts. Of Ryan’s sticky fingers that would soon be plastered on every clean surface in this apartment. Of the white carpet he would spill juice on, of the ornaments he would knock off the shelves and the tables he would send flying when he played with his dinosaurs.
“Hey.” Brock took her hand. “It’s just a place to live. Nothing more.”
Erin said nothing and let him lead her along the hallway. He turned left, and they entered the main living area.
A cream leather suite scattered with plum and cream-colored cushions surrounded a glass table in the middle of which sat an elegant vase with a spray of orchids. A tasteful Christmas tree stood in one corner, glittering in the afternoon sun.
Beyond that, all open plan, was a long glass dining table with eight chairs. The pink-and-purple flowers on the table perfectly complemented the purple color of the cushions on the chairs. Behind the dining area, a huge kitchen sparkled with chrome and polished marble work surfaces.
The glass-paneled wall revealed a breathtaking view over the harbor of the City of Sails. Outside, a wide deck housed an outdoor dining suite, a built-in barbecue, and an outdoor sofa and chairs around a long gas fire.
Every painting looked as if it were worth a million dollars. The flowers were all fresh without a sign of a wilted petal. Even the lighting was amazing, and Erin knew the placement of every lamp had been planned to shed the perfect amount of light.
Ryan let go of her other hand and ran forward to throw himself into the cushions on the sofa. Brock laughed, but Erin’s heart jumped into her mouth.
“Relax,” Brock said, obviously picking up on her tension. “He likes it here anyway.”
Saying nothing, she walked over to her son and took off his sandals. “Sit up,” she told him, straightening the cushions as he rolled onto his bottom. She took a couple of dinosaurs out of her bag and gave them to him. “Play quietly please.”
“Erin, you’ve got to relax,” Brock said, a little desperately.
“I can’t.” She was almost shaking with tension. “He’ll get chocolate or ice-lolly on the cushions, or scrape the buckle of his sandals on the leather.”
“I don’t care.”
“Well I do!”
“Sweetheart.” He caught her face in his hands. “It’s okay. Marks wipe or wash off. Scratches can be fixed. If something gets broken it can be mended or I’ll buy a new one. I really don’t care. But I do want you to feel comfortable. If you don’t like it here, I’ll take you to a hotel.”
“It’s just… I don’t know why I’m here,” she blurted out. “You’re obviously used to a different sort of woman, and I don’t understand why you like me. I don’t fit in. I’m embarrassed that you’ve been to my house—Jesus, what must you have thought when you walked in?” Her cheeks warmed with humiliation beneath his hands.
He frowned and glanced around the room. “I know what this must look like to you, and I understand that you feel intimidated. Like I said, I don’t spend a lot of time here, and I know it’s not homely. The consultants I work with take turns in holding dinner parties, plus occasionally Charlie, Matt, and I have business meetings here, and it’s a pleasant place to entertain. To a certain extent, it’s expected of me to have a place like this, you know? But that doesn’t mean I don’t like taking off my shoes and sitting on the carpet.” He smiled. “One day I’d like to have a family home again. Maybe get another dog, have a garden, a pool.”
He stroked her cheeks with her thumbs. “I like you because you radiate beauty in both body and spirit. You make me happy. And Ryan makes me happy—he’s a lovely boy. For the past two years, my life has been all about work. You two have reminded me there are other things than my job. I can’t explain how much I’ve enjoyed today. So I say it again—if you’re going to be uncomfortable here, I’ll happily take you to a hotel for the night. Otherwise, please, just enjoy the place. I was looking forward to bringing you here as you seemed to like Paua Cliffs so much.”
Erin swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and let it out slowly. She was overreacting, as usual. Brock wasn’t trying to intimidate or impress her. He’d obviously expected her to be surprised, but he seemed genuinely upset by her distress.
And why was she distressed? He was right—it was just a place to live, and she deserved to be there as much as anyone else.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
He brushed a thumb across her lips. “You light up my life,” he murmured. Lowering his head, he touched his lips to hers.
It was the briefest of kisses, rose-petal soft, but when he lifted his head she knew she had stars in her eyes.
He smiled. “Come on. I’ll show you the rest of the place.”
With Ryan following behind, Brock took her across the dining area and kitchen, then through to a smaller study with a desk and leather chair that nevertheless still had a wonderful view across the water. Papers and files littered the table along with a laptop, so it was clear that he spent a lot of his time there.
To Ryan’s delight, there was a movie room—a row of comfortable armchairs with cup holders and tables like she’d seen in fancy cinemas facing a huge wall-mounted TV with surround sound.
“We’ll watch a movie in here later if you like,” Brock promised him.
“Can I have a chair on my own?” the boy asked.
Brock put his hands on his hips. “Of course. You’re not a baby, are you?”
“No!” Ryan jumped up and down. Erin tried to hide her smile, and failed.
Brock grinned. “Then you’ll have your own chair, and you can put your drink in here, look. And if mum doesn’t mind, we’ll put some chocolate in bowls and you can put it on your table while we watch.”
“Where’s my bed?” Ryan asked.
“Come on, I’ll show you.” Brock took his hand and led him down the corridor, turning right into a bedroom.
Erin’s eyes widened as she saw the room. He’d obviously told whoever looked after the apartment that he was having a boy to stay because someone had made the bed up with a Ward Seven duvet cover. There were a couple of Ward Seven toys on the bed too, and a large picture of Dixon the Dog on the wall in glorious color.
“It’s peel-off,” Brock said with a smile.
But there were no piles of toys to overwhelm and spoil the boy—just one box of Lego in the middle of the bed, a companion box for the dinosaur Lego he’d bought Ryan for his birthday.
Ryan squealed and climbed onto the bed to examine it.
Brock sent Erin a guilty look. “I’m so sorry, I forgot it was there. I meant to ask you if it was okay that I gave it to him. I just don’t want him to get bored while he’s here.”
“It’s fine,” she said softly, touched he’d considered her feelings.
At that moment, his phone rang in his pocket. “Will you excuse me?” he asked, taking it out.
“Of course,” Erin said. His phone had rung several times during the day. Once it had been his brother, Charlie, a couple of times it had been his assistant, Lee, and the hospital had also rung a few times too.
He left the room, and Erin turned to her son, smiling as she sat beside him on the bed
and helped him undo the box of Lego. “You’ll have to say thank you to Brock,” she told him.
“Yes, Mummy.” Ryan rifled through the pieces, picking some up to investigate them more closely. “Will you sleep in my bed tonight?”
She cleared her throat. “Um, probably not. You have your own bed at home, don’t you? Well this is your bed, and I’ll sleep in another bed like I do at home.”
“With Bwock?”
Her mouth went dry. She wanted to handle this right, but she didn’t know what ‘right’ was. Should she pretend it was nothing? Keep the boy in the dark and see how things panned out? He wasn’t old enough to understand the delicate intricacies of relationships.
But she’d survived this long alone with him because even though he was only three, she shared everything with him. He was all she had, and when she had no money, she told him. When she was worried about something, she told him, because she thought otherwise he wouldn’t understand why she was quiet or upset. It might not be the textbook way to bring up a child, but it was her way.
“Yes, I’ll sleep in Brock’s bed,” she said.
He nodded, apparently accepting that. “I like Bwock.”
Those three tiny words caused such a sweep of emotion inside her that they took her breath away. “Oh. Do you?”
“He’s funny.” Ryan clipped two blocks together. “He kissed you.”
She held out another block. She hadn’t been certain he’d seen the quick peck, but he obviously had. “Yes, he did.”
“Why?” He clipped the block on.
“He likes me,” she said, feeling a little glow inside at the thought.
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “He said I make him happy.”
Ryan rummaged in the box for the right dinosaur feet. “Does he like me?”
She smiled and ruffled his hair. “Yes. He said you were a lovely boy.”
“Will you get mawwied?” he asked, his speech impediment twisting the word.
Her eyes widened. She hadn’t even been aware he’d heard of the word, let alone knew what it meant. “Goodness. What made you say that?” She’d told him a while ago that he had a daddy, but that he lived in another country, and had done her best to tell him just the facts and keep her feelings about Jack to herself.
“Will you mawwy Bwock?”
Her heart thumped hard. “I don’t know, sweetheart. I’ve only just met him. People usually get married when they’ve known each other a long time.”
“Why?”
“Because love’s like a flower. It takes time to grow.”
He thought about it as he searched for the right dinosaur tail. “Do you love Bwock?”
“Um… I’ve only just met him, honey.”
He looked up at her and frowned. “Why is your face all wed?”
A chuckle from the doorway made her glance over. Brock was leaning against the doorpost, his hands in his pockets, watching them. Good lord. Had he heard Ryan ask her if she loved him?
Tongue-tied, she pulled an eek face and mouthed, “Sorry.” Brock just shook his head and, smiling, walked over to them and sat on the bed beside Ryan.
“Thank you for my Lego, Bwock,” Ryan said.
“You’re welcome, buddy.” Brock found the tail Ryan had been searching for and held it out for him.
“You kissed Mummy,” Ryan observed.
“I did. Very nice it was too.”
Erin bit her lip. Brock glanced up at her and winked.
“Will you kiss her again?” Ryan wanted to know.
“I hope so,” Brock said cheerfully.
“Mummy said she’s sleeping in your bed tonight.”
Brock nodded at Ryan. “Yeah. That’s right.”
“Will you have a pillow fight?”
Brock started laughing, and Erin couldn’t help but join in.
“I stayed with my fwiend from playgwoup, and we had a pillow fight when we went to bed,” Ryan said.
“I think we should,” Brock told Erin. “If we do, I’ll win.”
“Don’t bet on it.” She joined in with the search for the next Lego piece. “I have a strong right arm.”
He chuckled, meeting her gaze. His eyes were warm, and she let herself think about the moment when she’d slip beneath the covers with him tonight, when he’d press his warm, firm body to her, and crush his lips against hers. The heat in his eyes told her he was thinking similar thoughts, and she felt an answering tightening of her nipples at the notion of time alone with him.
“I need his head,” Ryan declared, holding up the headless dinosaur.
Brock laughed and helped him search for it.
Erin sighed and put thoughts of the naked billionaire to the back of her mind. When Ryan was in bed, then she could turn her attention to the man at her side.
Was he frustrated at having to share her with her son? She watched him show Ryan how to clip the head on, doing it once, then removing it so the boy could do it himself. He didn’t look frustrated. He looked contented and happy, and for some reason that made Erin happy too.
Chapter Twenty-One
From that moment, it seemed to Brock that Erin relaxed and began to enjoy herself again. He showed her his bedroom, and he could tell by the way her gaze followed him around the room and the sultry look in her eyes that she was thinking about what might happen later that day, when they finally retired to the huge bed with its view over the harbor, and slipped beneath the covers together.
He was looking forward to getting her into bed again too, and it was only late afternoon, but Brock surprised himself by not being impatient for the hours to pass. He carried the Lego box out onto the table on the deck for Ryan, and after pouring himself and Erin a glass of wine, they joined the boy at the table to talk and watch the boats sailing through the harbor as the sun sank lower in the sky.
When Ryan tired of playing with the Lego, Brock turned the TV on in the living room, gave him some paper and a pack of colored pencils he’d bought, and settled him in front of it to watch cartoons.
Sitting Erin at the breakfast bar with her wine, Brock insisted he didn’t need help and proceeded to make dinner for them all. Erin assured him that Ryan liked pasta, so he made a basic tomato sauce, tossed it with cooked chopped sausage and some penne, and served it with a simple green salad back out on the deck, because it was a lovely warm evening, and Erin had said she adored the view.
After this, he stacked the dishwasher, and then the three of them went into the movie room and watched a Disney movie on the big screen while they munched on Smarties and Maltesers. Brock sat Ryan between him and Erin, enjoying the boy’s delight in the cinema experience, and seeing in Erin’s smile her appreciation of his care of her son.
When the movie finished, it was bath time. While Erin ran the bath and filled it with bubbles, Brock showed Ryan the pack of soap crayons he’d bought.
“See all these white tiles?” he told the boy. When Ryan nodded solemnly, expecting to be told he mustn’t draw on them, Brock said, “I want to see every one of them covered with pictures, okay?”
Ryan’s face lit up, and it was all Erin could do to get him undressed before he got in the bath, eager to get drawing.
By seven o’clock, Ryan was bathed, dried, dressed in pajamas, had been given his inhalers, and was sitting in bed with a sippy cup of warm milk. After making sure he knew where their room was in case he needed her in the night, Erin stretched out next to him with one of Matt’s Ward Seven books—which was very well-thumbed, Brock noticed.
Ryan took it out of her hand and gave it to Brock. “Will you wead it?”
“Sure.” Giving Erin an amused look, he opened the page. “Here we go. Dixon’s X-Ray Disaster.”
He proceeded to tell the story about the dog’s adventures in the X-Ray department, sending Ryan into squeals of laughter with the voices he gave the characters. As he read, he thought once again how clever his brother was, creating these stories. The writing was simple enough that yo
unger children could understand it easily and older children could read along, but the stories also carried little jokes for the grown-ups reading them, Matt’s distinct wry humor shining through.
When he finished, Ryan begged for him to read it again, but Erin shook her head and told him to settle down and she’d sing him a song.
Brock excused himself, saying he’d wait for her in the living room, but he’d only walked a few steps away when Erin’s voice rang out, and he stopped, entranced, and leaned against the wall to listen.
She sang a lullaby he hadn’t heard since he was a child. The lyrics were a little different to those he remembered, but the tune was the same. “I see the moon, the moon sees me, under the shade of the old oak tree, please let the moon that shines on me, shine on the one I love… Over the ocean, over the sea, that’s where my heart is longing to be, please let the moon that shines on me, shine on the one I love.”
“Sing the knight one,” Ryan prompted when she’d done. So she started singing the hymn that Brock remembered from his youth.
“When a knight won his spurs, in the stories of old, he was gentle and brave, he was gallant and bold.”
“Like Bwock,” Ryan said.
Erin laughed. “Yes, like Bwock.” She continued to sing. “With a shield in his arm and a lance in his hand, for God and for valor he rode through the land.”
Brock shivered. Her beautiful voice captured the magic in the words, but that wasn’t the only reason a tingle had run down his spine. Oddly, it had been one of Fleur’s favorites. For a brief moment he felt light-headed, his throat tightening as an unexpected wave of emotion swept over him.
Then he blinked, took a deep breath, and blew it out. The intensity passed, but instead of leaving him unsettled, he felt a peculiar warmth spread through him. Suddenly, it became crystal clear that time was not linear but circular, and Fleur would always remain a part of his present and future, not just his past.
He walked away, through to the living room, but stood by the windows, watching the last rays of the sun turning the water to gold as Erin’s voice continued to ring through the apartment, high and pure as a choirboy’s.
The Perfect Gift: A Christmas Billionaire Sexy Romance (Three Wise Men Book 1) Page 15