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Wanting What She Can't Have

Page 2

by Yvonne Lindsay


  Alexis’s arrival changed all that. She was so vibrantly alive and in the moment that she made living in the past impossible. Even their brief conversation had been enough to make him feel self-consciously alert, keenly aware of the disheveled appearance he usually couldn’t be bothered to notice.

  And aware of her in a way that filled him with shame. He hadn’t been the husband Bree had deserved, not entirely, not when—even though he’d kept it fully under wraps—he’d desired her best friend. Was it infidelity when a person only thought about another? He’d loved Bree, there’d been no doubt about that. Adored her, idolized her. Cherished her. But deep down inside, there’d been a primitive part of him that had craved Alexis Fabrini on a level so base he’d had to jam it down deep inside.

  He’d been relieved when he’d heard Alexis had headed overseas—how, after her last contract as a nanny had neared completion, she’d changed career direction and had begun pouring herself into fashion design. Some of Alexis’s designs still hung in Bree’s closet. Bree had been so excited for her, albeit a little hurt and puzzled when Alexis let contact drop between them.

  Living with Alexis would be hell. He gave a humorless laugh. What else was new? Just living was hell. Each day a torture. Each day a reminder that he’d failed in that most basic tenet of keeping his wife safe. Of ensuring her needs were put before his own.

  He’d never made it a secret that he’d wanted a large family—and because he’d been so outspoken, so determined in his plans for the future she’d felt the need to keep a secret that would have made him change his mind. Given a choice between a family and Bree, he’d have chosen Bree every time. Yet she’d hidden the news about the aneurysm that killed her until it was too late, putting the baby’s life ahead of her own.

  Ruby. He could barely think about her without being reminded of failure yet again. Drowning in his own grief, he hadn’t been able to bear the weak sound of her cries—or the bone-deep certainty that he would lose her, too. She’d been so ill at birth... It was better this way, he’d decided. To keep his distance and not risk the pain that would come if he got too used to having her in his life.

  Raoul turned back to the table, to the wines he’d been sampling and assessing for what was his favorite part of wine production—the blending. He forced himself to settle back down in his chair, to study his notes and then to reach for another glass of wine.

  Sour. He grimaced and took a sip of water, rinsing the bitter tang from his mouth before reaching for another glass. Again, sour. He threw himself against the back of his chair in disgust. He knew the flavor of the wine had little to do with his skills as a vintner and far more to do with his current state of mind. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, his working day was over—which left, what exactly? Time to go up to the house to reminisce about old times with Alexis?

  His gut twisted at the very thought. Even so, he pushed himself upright and cleared away his work, neatly filing away his notes for tomorrow and rinsing out all the glasses, leaving them to drain on the rack before he started up the lane.

  Alexis was in the kitchen when he got into the house. He could hear her moving around, opening and closing cupboard doors, humming in an off-key tone. It sounded so domestic and normal for a second he allowed himself to hope, to dream that it was Bree there in the kitchen.

  But the second Alexis’s curvy frame came into the doorway the illusion was shattered.

  “I can see why Catherine sent me up here with all this food. You had hardly anything in the pantry at all, and the fridge just about echoes it’s so empty. What on earth have you been living on? Thin air?”

  He knew she was trying to be friendly but he armored himself against the attempt.

  “I get by. I didn’t ask you to come here and criticize how I live.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she said with a rueful twist of lush lips that were made for long, hot, hungry kisses.

  Viciously he slammed a lid down on the thought. He wasn’t going there. Ever.

  “By the way,” she continued blithely, “while I found Ruby’s room easily enough, I’m not sure which room you wanted me in. I went into one of the spare rooms but it looked like your things were in there.”

  He hadn’t been able to bear returning to the master bedroom, not with all its memories of Bree.

  “Take the room nearest the nursery.”

  “But isn’t that the master suite?”

  “I don’t use it, aside from storing a few clothes. I’ll take the last of them out of there for you.”

  “Okay, do you need a hand? Maybe I could—”

  “Look, I don’t want you here, and I certainly don’t need your help. Catherine’s decided you should take care of Ruby, but that’s all you’re here to do. Let’s just agree to stay out of one another’s way and everything will be just fine.”

  He ground out the last word as if his life depended on it.

  “Raoul—!”

  “Don’t,” he said putting up a hand. “You’re here now and apparently I can’t do anything about that. But let me make one thing very clear. I don’t want your sympathy, Alexis. I’m all sympathied out.”

  “I can see that,” she said. Her voice was dry and calm but he could see the shadows in her dark chocolate-brown eyes and he knew he’d hurt her.

  He closed his own eyes briefly and dragged in a leveling breath. He hadn’t meant to be so harsh but it was his default setting these days. Living alone didn’t make one the best conversationalist, that was for sure.

  The sound of a car outside heralded the arrival of his mother-in-law and, from the shriek and gurgle of laughter that followed the sound of a car door opening, the baby. His blood ran cold. His chest tightened making it hard to breathe.

  “I’m going for a shower,” he said tightly, and left before Alexis could move to let Catherine and Ruby into the house.

  He strode to his room and slammed the door behind him before moving to his bathroom and locking the door. He disrobed with a minimum of movement and stepped into the shower stall even as he turned on the faucets. The water, when it hit him, was chilling—painful—but that was nothing compared to the pain of the gaping hole inside him. Nothing at all.

  He’d fought against this happening, having the baby here under the same roof, and he’d won the battle for so long. The nursery, so lovingly decorated by Bree, had never been used. He’d known, logically, that one day his defenses would be worn down, that he’d have to step up to his responsibilities as a father. He just never imagined those defenses would be stormed by the one woman in the whole world he’d hoped never to see again and yet still craved with a hunger he could never assuage.

  Two

  Alexis held little Ruby’s weight against her, relishing the solid warmth of the child’s small body and inhaling the special baby scent of her hair and skin. So far, so good, she thought as they watched Catherine drive away. The older woman had been torn, clearly reluctant to leave Ruby behind, but Alexis had hastened to assure her that she was doing the right thing, for them all, but most of all for herself. She was already nervous enough about her upcoming surgery, she didn’t need the added worry of wondering how well Ruby would settle into her father’s home.

  A light breeze lifted a tuft of Ruby’s fine auburn hair and brushed against Alexis’s cheek, the touch as soft and delicate as fingertips tracing lightly across her skin. A sudden pang for Bree cut her to the quick. The realization that she would never see her friend again, never share a bottle of wine and silly laughter over happy remembrances. Never again squabble over who was the more handsome out of the Hemsworth brothers.

  Her hold on the baby in her arms, the child her friend never got to see outside of a sonogram, tightened and Ruby squawked in protest.

  “I’m sorry, precious girl,” Alexis murmured into the baby’s soft fuzz of hair.

  She fought back the burn of tears that threatened to cascade down her face and made a silent vow. I will look after your daughter, Bree, I promise. And I will love
her and care for her and keep you alive in her heart forever.

  Stepping back indoors, Alexis noticed that Raoul was nowhere to be seen inside the house. A good thing perhaps? Alexis couldn’t be certain. She popped Ruby on the floor with a few of the toys that Catherine had brought over with the baby and sat down with her. She seemed a placid enough child now, although Alexis knew from Ruby’s grandmother that she’d been very ill and demanding as a newborn. Understandable, given her start in life, she rationalized as she watched the little girl reach for a multicolored teddy and pull it to her, cuddling it as she popped her thumb in her mouth. Her big blue eyes stared back solemnly at Alexis.

  Somewhere in the house a door slammed shut and Ruby and Alexis both jumped. Alexis laughed softly.

  “Goodness,” she said rolling onto her belly on the floor and tickling the baby on one of her delightfully pudgy feet. “That was loud, wasn’t it?”

  She was rewarded with a shy smile that exposed four perfect pearl-like teeth and she felt her heart twist in response. While Ruby’s coloring was exactly that of her mother’s, her smile was all Raoul.

  “You’re going to be quite the heartbreaker, aren’t you, young lady?”

  The baby’s chin began to wrinkle and her lower lip to quiver. Her thumb fell from her mouth and she let rip with a wail, her blue eyes filling with tears as she stared past Alexis.

  “Oh, dear, was it something I said?”

  Alexis pushed herself up into a sitting position and pulled the baby into her lap, rubbing her back in an attempt to soothe her but to no avail. A prickle of awareness up her spine made her realize they were no longer alone.

  She swiveled her head and saw Raoul standing there behind them, frozen to the spot. His usually tan face was a sickly shade of gray.

  “What’s wrong with her? Why’s she crying?” he demanded, his voice harsh and setting Ruby to cry even harder.

  “Raoul, are you okay?” she asked, lithely getting to her feet and holding the baby against her.

  His eyes were clamped on Ruby who buried her face into Alexis’s chest and continued to cry.

  “I’m fine,” he said tightly, looking anything but. “Why’s she crying like that?”

  “I assume it’s because she got a bit of a fright when you came into the room. Plus, this is all strange to her, isn’t it? Being here, missing Catherine, having me around.”

  He nodded. “Please, can’t you do something to calm her?”

  Alexis gave him a rueful smile. “I’m doing my best,” she said, jiggling Ruby gently. “Perhaps you could soften your tone a little?”

  He made a dismissive gesture with one hand. “I’d prefer you keep the child confined to her room while I’m in the house.”

  “But this is her home. You are kidding me, right?” Alexis said incredulously.

  His eyes dragged from Ruby’s sobbing form to Alexis’s face.

  “No. I’m not.”

  He turned to walk out of the living room, but Alexis would have none of it.

  “Stop right there,” she said with as much authority as she could muster. “You act like Ruby is an unwanted stranger here. She’s your daughter for goodness’ sake.”

  Raoul turned around slowly. “It wasn’t my wish for her to come here and her presence is disruptive. As her nanny, your role is to confine your skills and your opinions to her care and her care alone. Is that understood?”

  Alexis didn’t recognize the man in front of her. Sure, he mostly looked like the same Raoul Benoit she’d been introduced to shortly before he married her best friend, and he sounded the same. Her body certainly still had the same response to his presence, that unsettling thrill of awareness that buzzed along her nerve endings whenever she was near him. But the words... They weren’t the words of a bereaved husband or a caring father. And he did care—whether he wanted to admit it or not. So why was he trying so hard to distance himself from Ruby?

  “Is that understood?” he repeated. “Your charge is distressed. I suggest you do whatever it is that you need to do to calm her and do it quickly.”

  He tried to sound aloof but she could see the lines of strain around his eyes. It pulled at his heart to hear his little girl cry. She knew it as sure as she knew the reflection of her own face in the mirror each morning.

  “Here, you take her for me and I’ll go and get her dinner ready. It’s time for her evening meal, anyway.”

  He took a rapid step back and looked as her as if she’d suggested he tip vinegar into a barrel of his finest wine.

  “Are you telling me you’re incapable of fulfilling your duties as a nanny?”

  “No,” she said as patiently as she could. “Of course not. I thought you might like to hold your daughter to distract her, while I prepare her something to eat before her bath.”

  “I don’t pay you to hand the baby over to me, Alexis,” he said bluntly before spinning around and leaving the room as silently as he’d entered it.

  Ruby lifted her little head to peer around Alexis carefully, putting her thumb firmly back in her mouth when she was satisfied her father had departed.

  “Well, that didn’t go quite as well as I expected,” Alexis said softly to the little girl. “I thought your grandmother might be exaggerating when she said that your daddy didn’t have anything to do with you. Looks like we have our work cut out for us, hmm?”

  She kissed the top of Ruby’s head and, adjusting her a little higher on her hip, took her through to the kitchen. Grabbing a paper towel, she moistened it under the faucet and gently wiped tear tracks from two chubby little cheeks. Ruby clearly wasn’t a fan of paper towels and Alexis made a mental note to search out the muslin squares she’d seen amongst the baby’s things in the nursery. She popped Ruby into her high chair and gave her a plain cookie to chew on—who said you couldn’t start dinner with dessert every now and again?—while she scanned Catherine’s comprehensive notes on Ruby’s diet and sleeping times. The baby was still napping twice in a day and, after a 250 ml bottle at bedtime, pretty much slept through the night except for when she was cutting a tooth.

  It all looked very straightforward. Alexis sighed and looked at the little girl. How could Raoul not want to be a part of her care? The very idea was almost impossible to contemplate. If she hadn’t heard him just a few moments ago she would have denied that he could possibly be so cold.

  But was he really cold? There’d been something flickering in his hazel eyes that she hadn’t quite been able to identify. Thinking back on it, could it have been fear? Could he be afraid of his own daughter?

  Ruby chose that moment to wearily rub at her eyes with cookie-goop-covered hands, galvanizing Alexis back into action. If she was going to get a dinner inside the tot she needed to feed her now before she fell asleep in her high chair. After coaxing Ruby through her meal of reheated soft-cooked ravioli, which Catherine had thoughtfully made and supplied for tonight, she held Ruby carefully over the kitchen sink and turned on the cold tap, letting her clap her little hands in the stream as the water washed away the food residue.

  “I think you’re wearing about as much food as you’ve eaten.” Alexis laughed as she used a clean tea towel to dry their hands and give Ruby’s face a quick wipe before whisking her back through the house to the nursery.

  After a bath and a new diaper, fresh pajamas, and a bottle, Ruby was down in her crib. Alexis rubbed her back for a little while, concerned she might not settle in what were obviously strange surroundings, but it seemed her earlier upset had worn Ruby out and she was asleep in no time. After Alexis checked to ensure the baby monitor was on, she clipped its partner to the loop of her jeans and left the room.

  Outside in the hall she came to a halt. She really didn’t know what to do next. Should she seek out Raoul and press him for more explanation over his behavior earlier, or simply carry on as if nothing had happened? She worried at her lower lip with her teeth. Until she’d seen him again today she would have done the former of the two—without question. But after that
stilted, almost hostile, encounter, she was reluctant to muddy the waters between them any more than they already were.

  She still needed to unpack her things, so she went into the master bedroom where she’d put her suitcase earlier on. The door to the walk-in wardrobe stood open and she gravitated toward it. One side was completely bare of anything but naked hangers, the other still filled with women’s clothing. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she reached out and touched a few of the things hanging there, as a hint of Bree’s favorite scent wafted out.

  That awful sense of emptiness filled her again along with a renewed feeling of deep sympathy for the man who hadn’t yet been able to bring himself to pack his dead wife’s things away. She stepped out of the wardrobe and closed the door behind her, turning instead to the native rimu tallboy that stood proud against one wall. The drawers were empty, so she filled them with her things, then shoved her now-redundant case into the wardrobe without looking again at the silent memorial that still hung there.

  A knock at her door make her start.

  “Yes?” she called out.

  The door opened and Raoul filled the frame. Instantly her senses sprang to life. Her body hummed with that almost electric responsiveness to his proximity—her eyes roaming over him, taking in the way his clothing hung just a little too loosely on his rangy frame. It was hard to believe he was the same man as before. But then again, he wasn’t, was he? He’d been through hell and she needed to remember that as she tackled her new role. To perhaps be a little less judgmental.

  For all the differences—from subtle to striking—in his appearance and in his manner, there was no doubting the instant effect he had on her equilibrium. Even now she could feel her heart beat that little bit faster, her breathing become a little more shallow. She dug her fingernails into her palms in an attempt to distract herself from her reaction to him.

  “I just wanted to make sure you’d settled in okay,” he said stiffly, not quite meeting her eyes.

 

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