by Sara Wood
‘I’m sorry about your room,’ she began.
‘No problem.’ To her surprise, he gave her a faint smile, whereas before he’d always been coldly hostile. ‘It will be for Gemma’s benefit,’ he said courteously, and she relaxed, chatting to him all the way to the hotel.
It was the most gorgeous place, once a Georgian mansion, she assumed, in an exclusive district of London. The interior had been furnished with eighteenth-century antiques which gave it the atmosphere of an elegant home.
Ellen ogled the exquisite walnut and fruitwood furniture and vast, gilt-framed oil paintings while Donatello retrieved a set of keys from a discreetly positioned desk, where he made arrangements with the liveried porter for his transfer to another room.
‘It’s lovely,’ she said to Luc in awe. ‘You must have done well for yourself to be able to afford to stay here.’
He shot her a suspicious look. ‘I’ve worked hard.’
She was a little taken aback by the curtness of his response.
‘What do you do?’ she asked curiously. ‘Gemma said something about you working on a traghetto—that’s a ferry boat, isn’t it?’
‘I own a boat.’
‘It must bring in a hell of an income!’ she said with a smile.
‘It must, mustn’t it?’ Cutting off any further questions, Luc set off with Gemma in his arms towards a set of mahogany doors which turned out to conceal a lift.
Yes, she thought, following him inside. She could believe he’d achieved his ambitions by the sweat of his own brow. It was admirable. To a point.
Before they’d married he’d been a happy-go-lucky kind of man, and they’d had some marvellous fun together. When she’d discovered she was pregnant, three months later, he’d proposed. They’d arranged to elope, and from that moment on he’d begun to work all the hours he could.
At first his dedication had charmed her. He’d been working to provide for them both because she, at seventeen, had no qualifications other than her poise and fancy schooling, neither of which were much good in the cut and thrust of ordinary life. Her job as a temporary sales assistant had brought in only a pittance and she’d known he was worried that she’d find it hard to adapt from a life of comfort and plenty.
But she hadn’t cared. All she’d wanted was him.
The trouble was, he’d never seemed to be around. And her pregnancy had prompted him to work all hours to provide for his coming family.
He’d used to come back to their tiny flat looking exhausted and grey. Gone was the man she’d fallen in love with; in his place someone too tired for loving, almost too tired to eat. And the slightest thing had made him irritable. She’d begun to feel frightened that she’d made a huge mistake.
And yet there had been good times. Few and far between, perhaps, but they had been so wonderful that her heart had begun to sing again when they’d come along, and her love for Luc had intensified.
But she’d wondered sometimes, after a long, hard day on her feet, did he love her—or had he been driven to marry her by stubborn pride and a sense of duty because she’d been pregnant?
His mother had totally disapproved. Her parents had both been appalled and had threatened to disown her because Luc was a mere lorry driver. When she’d gone ahead with the marriage, pride had prevented her father from withdrawing his threat.
And, for Ellen, some of her parents’ dire warnings had festered in her mind. Had he tired of her, once the novelty of sex had worn off? Did he only lust after her? Had he married her just to ensure a claim to their child? Doubts had come thick and fast. They’d grown out of all proportion during her pregnancy because she’d been so ill.
It couldn’t have been much fun coming home to a woman who was always sick and looked like a beached whale, she mused now, following Luc into the penthouse hallway. No wonder things had gone wrong.
‘I’ll just go and tuck Gemma up,’ Luc called abruptly over his shoulder, as his PA flung open a pair of double doors for him. ‘Make yourself comfortable while I do so. Donatello will clear his stuff out, then I’ll show you round.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ she said eagerly.
He shot her a cagey look. ‘If you must.’
She felt puzzled by his reluctance. Didn’t he want her to take a more active part in looking after her daughter?
Casting a quick glance about her, she walked across the thick cream carpet towards one of the doors opening off the beautiful sitting room. She had a brief impression of cool toffee-coloured walls, soft honey drapes looped back with enormous gold-fringed tiebacks and a number of comfortable toning sofas. Everything was subtly lit, making the room seem warm and welcoming.
She loved it already. It would be fun looking after Gemma here, she decided happily. In this atmosphere, with no money worries and no neighbours to placate after one of Gemma’s tantrums, she’d feel relaxed.
There were no lights on in the small bedroom, but the golden glow from the sitting room relieved the darkness. She could just make out Luc’s shadowy figure, standing by the single bed. He was cradling his daughter, rocking her a little in his strong arms and trying to unwrap the soft pink blanket from her small body.
‘Just a sec. I’ll help you.’ She moved forwards as quietly as she could and switched on a bedside lamp. Lovingly she eased the blanket away, her face breaking into a fond smile when Gemma’s pyjamas were revealed. ‘Teddy bears!’ Eyes twinkling with amused affection, she glanced up at Luc from beneath her lashes.
‘Her favourite,’ he said softly.
He was looking at his child with such tenderness that the breath caught in her throat. This was the Luc she’d known and loved. The soft mouth, lips slightly parted in pleasure to show the white teeth beneath. The affection relaxing every line of his face. The gentleness in the angle of his bent head.
‘She means everything to you,’ she observed quietly.
‘She is my life.’
Passion burned through him, firing the eyes which glowed hot and dark, radiating a heat and energy which awed her. And she felt a pang—whether of wistfulness or envy or resentment, she didn’t know. This was her child too. And she’d been denied her for too long.
Please, please, she begged, let Gemma love me!
Never had she wanted that more. At this moment, she believed she could change the situation. Fire seemed to breathe into her too, filling every part of her with a blazing excitement. She could do it. She would do it.
‘She’s so beautiful.’ Ellen reached out to touch her daughter’s golden curls in wonder. ‘Quite…perfect.’ Her voice shattered and she hastily busied herself with reaching out a slim hand and unnecessarily plumping up the pillow.
‘Nothing must harm her. Nothing!’
She stared at him, her heart beating wildly. He would kill for his child, she thought, her eyes huge with realisation. She remembered what he’d said, that anyone who hurt Gemma would be hurt in turn. And she felt a little weak at the knees. She understood that fierce protective instinct. She felt the same.
Veiling her eyes to hide the intensity of her own passion, she said as calmly as she could, ‘Of course.’
Luc bent and carefully laid Gemma on the bed. Her heavy lashes lifted from her baby-soft cheeks and fluttered open. ‘Papà?’ she mumbled, catching his big hand in hers.
‘Si, sono io,’ he whispered, kissing her cheek, and Ellen’s heart tumbled over and over in response to his gentleness. ‘Go to sleep, sweetheart,’ he crooned. ‘Papà is here.’
With a contented smile, Gemma closed her eyes and fell asleep again. Ellen lingered, aching to be part of her daughter’s life. She’d never been the one to console her child, to offer reassurance and to be trusted implicitly. Whenever Gemma had been upset or hurt, it had been her father she’d turned to.
That would change, Ellen promised herself. And into her mind came a reckless idea. That she should go to live near Luc, and play a more important part in Gemma’s daily life. She dismissed the thought. But it kept popping back
in her mind as Luc tucked their daughter up.
It could be done. If she dared.
‘Goodnight. Sleep well, my angel,’ Luc murmured, caressing Gemma’s glorious hair adoringly.
She felt like an intruder. And that hurt. As he straightened, he looked over at Ellen’s defenceless face, which, she realised too late, must be full of pain and longing. She was aware that her lashes were wet on her cheeks, and her mouth felt moist where she had gently bitten her lip and then released it. And it made her feel vulnerable now that he had caught a glimpse of her most private emotions.
‘You should have waited outside,’ he muttered gruffly.
‘I thought you’d be pleased that I showed some interest,’ she returned, refusing to be crushed by him.
‘Don’t overdo the maternal act. It doesn’t fool me.’
Ellen flinched. But she knew that there had been too many years of apparent coolness on her part, and he was perhaps justified in his opinion of her. It was up to her to change it. And she would!
A small smile played about her mouth. ‘Just you wait,’ she said, her eyes alight with anticipation. ‘Things will be very different by the end of this week.’
‘I think they will,’ he drawled.
Contempt etched his mouth into a hard curve. When he turned back to watch Gemma, his face taut with some inner tension, she was suddenly struck by panic. He’d given her such a strange look. What had it been? Disapproval again? There was definitely a harshness deepening the lines around his mouth.
Perhaps he was worried about trusting his daughter’s safety to her—hence his remark warning that no harm must come to her. Gemma was so precious to him that he might be having second thoughts!
‘Luc,’ she said, touching his arm and desperate to convince him that she could improve her relationship with Gemma. ‘I wish you’d relax where I’m concerned. I know we can be friends.’
He jerked his head up, looking at her in disbelief. ‘Friends?’
‘Yes!’ Disappointed by his reaction, she dragged in a shaky breath and pinned her wet-lashed gaze to his. He had to believe. He just had to. ‘Friendship is the beginning of love.’
Luc looked even more taken aback. Almost distractedly he picked up Gemma’s clothes and put them neatly away. Ellen watched edgily, noticing how unerringly he found the right drawer for her top, her skirt, her socks and underwear. He’d unpacked, she thought enviously. He’d become Gemma’s surrogate mother. Would he resent her interference? Did he want to keep Gemma for himself alone, and was that the reason for his stonewalling?
‘I want things to change between us,’ she said stubbornly. She had a right to Gemma’s love. He couldn’t take that from her.
‘Love… That’s what you’re aiming for, then?’ he said flatly.
Her mouth trembled. He was going to put up some opposition; she could see that in the way he carried his shoulders. ‘Why not?’ she demanded.
‘After all this time—?’
‘I refuse to live in the past—’
‘Yet it forms the present…and underlies the future.’
‘But there have been changes in the situation.’ She felt strong enough to cope with risking Gemma’s potential rejection now, whereas before she would have gone under.
He pushed his hands in his pockets and eyed her calculatingly, jingling the money in his pocket. ‘I have a Cartier watch. Yours comes from a chain store. You work in a supermarket. I run my own business—’
‘Luc,’ she said, irritated by his unnecessary diversion. ‘If my status bothers you, then you might as well know that I am determined not to stay as I am. I will be rich again, but this time I’ll make it on my own back.’
‘Your frankness amazes me!’ he drawled, rocking on his heels.
She heaved a sigh of exasperation. ‘I’m trying to make my position clear—’
‘On your back,’ he prompted.
Her glare should have wilted him. Instead he merely smiled scornfully. ‘I realise it’s a little early for you to trust me,’ she said doggedly, somehow keeping her temper. ‘All I’m asking is for you to give me a little while for the relationship to develop. Make allowances for me. I’m sure that, given a chance, I can wipe away all the bad feeling of these past years.’
His eyes glittered. ‘That’s some ambition. So many bad feelings. So much pain and coldness—’
‘I know!’ she cried, feeling desperate. He was determined to put obstacles in her way! She willed herself to persevere. ‘Anything’s possible if you want it enough,’ she declared. ‘With your help—’
‘Me?’ He muttered something under his breath.
She caught the word ‘pushy’, and knew that he’d prefer her to be submissive and adoring. But she’d learnt the hard way that doormats got walked on.
‘Yes, you. Stop being hostile.’
He grunted and strolled into the bathroom, where she could see him arranging bath toys neatly on the end of the bath. A family of ducks. A watering can and sieve. A little boat. Ellen gritted her teeth from the pain of exclusion from these simple parental duties.
‘And in the place of hostility?’ he called, his voice echoing oddly.
She sighed, feeling helpless. He wasn’t making this easy! ‘Show warmth, a smile, and the occasional…’ His bulk filled the doorway. She swallowed, disconcerted by his drowsy gaze. ‘Just…be nice! I’ll do the rest.’
‘I can’t wait to see this. Go ahead,’ he said with a wave of his hand. ‘Be my guest.’
She beamed in delight, her eyes brilliant with emotion. ‘You won’t regret it,’ she said, husky with gratitude that he’d decided to support her attempt. ‘I know we’ll learn to love one another. I’m determined of that.’
‘Love! You want this very badly, don’t you?’ he mused, his head angled to one side as he contemplated her carefully.
‘Of course!’ Emboldened, she went over to him. ‘You know that. You’ve seen how I feel, haven’t you?’ Brief recognition flickered across his eyes and she smiled. He’d noticed the change in her. He knew now that she cared for Gemma. She put a tentative hand on his arm. ‘My life would be so different, Luc. My life would be enriched a thousand times over—’
‘I have no doubt of that,’ he said smoothly, detaching himself. In the low-lit room, the hollows of his cheeks seemed to be accentuated, the line of his jaw sharply angled. ‘Have you missed being rich, Ellen?’ he asked quietly.
She blinked at the sudden change of subject. And laughed. ‘I didn’t think so! But when I walked in here and saw the High Life I must confess it seemed very appealing! It’s ages since I’ve been anywhere like this. It’s death to the soul to live in unattractive surroundings, Luc,’ she told him honestly. ‘Luxury bathes the mind and body and warms the heart!’ Her expression sobered. ‘I’m glad you’ve done so well,’ she said sincerely.
He gave a faint smile. ‘It has its disadvantages.’
‘Like?’ she asked in surprise.
‘Some women see me as a meal ticket.’
She winced and looked away from his piercing stare, hating to think of him with other women, gold-diggers or not. A flush spread up her face as she remembered how she’d studied the photographs she’d developed for Gemma, wondering if the two women had made love to Luc.
‘I think,’ he said in soft, liquid tones, ‘it’s time for bed.’
Ellen’s eyes rounded. ‘Oh! Yes,’ she said, flustered, going pinker than ever. ‘Goodnight, then—’
‘Just a minute!’
His hand gripped her shoulder, its warmth sending heat deep into her body. She felt herself tremble, and tensed her muscles in the hope that he hadn’t noticed. Unable to bear the pressure of his fingers—because she wanted them to roam all over her—she turned beneath his restraining hand and faced him with a bright, enquiring expression.
‘You wanted something?’ As soon as she’d said that, she could have beaten herself on the head. How could her mouth betray her like that?
‘I’m a man. I always
want,’ he said, making her more nervous than ever. A crooked smile lifted the corner of his mouth as his fingers brushed across her collarbone. ‘I also wanted to remind you about Gemma,’ he said lazily. ‘To say that she sleeps solidly and never wakes, no matter how much noise there is.’
She paused, holding her breath. It seemed he was trying to tell her something. There was nothing innocent about the way he was looking at her. Did he mean…? No! He was just putting her mind at rest, surely?
Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt, she nodded and headed for the door. ‘Lucky her!’ she said cheerfully. On an impulse she whirled around and almost collided with him. ‘Oh! Sorry!’ She took a step back and managed a shaky grin. ‘I’m just feeling a bit light-headed,’ she explained, suddenly quite breathless. Her chest seemed to be rising and falling in a highly exaggerated fashion. ‘I was going to say that I’m grateful to you for giving me a second chance,’ she declared, her throat clogging up suddenly with an overload of emotion.
He cleared his throat, as if he too found it touching that she should be on the brink of reclaiming her child’s affection after all this time. Through a watery veil, she gazed affectionately at him. He wasn’t so bad. He did have a heart, after all.
‘My pleasure, I’m sure. Before we do anything else, I’d better run through room service and my contact numbers with you,’ he murmured.
He moved towards her and she hastily side-stepped to make way for him. She took a final glance at her daughter and went after him, hugging herself in delight. Tomorrow, she crowed, she and Gemma would begin again.
After Luc had efficiently prepared her for any emergency, and handed her an alarming amount of cash, Donatello appeared and cheerfully took his leave.
‘Meet you at six,’ Luc said to his friend, slapping him on the back in affection.
‘Six!’ she marvelled, when they’d said goodnight and Donatello had left. ‘This must be some breakfast meeting! Is it all highly secret?’