Nights of Passion: Mendez's Mistress / Bedded for the Italian's Pleasure / The Pregnancy Affair. Anne Mather
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above legs that were longer than he’d thought. For a woman of—what, thirty-two, thirty-three?—she had an extremely attractive figure.
He blew out a breath as he unloaded the bags onto the kitchen table. Why the hell was he thinking about how she looked? It wasn’t as if they even knew one another—not, properly at least—and there was no doubt that she resented him. Ever since she’d learned that Daisy would be flying with him and not on some public airline, he’d hardly had a cordial word out of her. Damn it, it wasn’t his fault if she and her ex-husband didn’t communicate.
‘Mr Mendez hasn’t been waiting long.’ Daisy came into the kitchen behind them, a beaming smile on her face. ‘That’s good, isn’t it, Mum?’
‘I’m sure Mr Mendez would agree with you.’
Rachel’s response was full of irony, and Joe’s resentment stirred anew. ‘I did ring first,’ he said, directing his words to her. ‘I thought you might be working and not want to be disturbed.’
‘So you decided to come and disturb me anyway.’ Rachel didn’t know why she felt so angry, but she did. And finding Mendez on her doorstep seemed to be the last straw after the way Daisy had behaved. ‘I’m sorry. I had some shopping to attend to.’
‘I could have spoken to Daisy.’
‘You could.’
‘Mum—’
Daisy had obviously realised that things were not going as well as she’d anticipated. But Joe didn’t need her involvement, any more than Rachel had wanted his earlier. ‘Just leave this to your mother and me,’ he said, trying for a pleasant tone. ‘Why don’t you go and do some packing or something?’
Daisy sniffed. ‘Mum,’ she said again, the word full of entreaty, and Rachel took a deep breath.
‘Mr Mendez is right,’ she said. ‘Perhaps it would be as well if he and I had a private word. Just go up to your room, okay?’
‘But, Mum—’
‘Do as your mother says,’ said Joe sharply, and Daisy’s jaw dropped in surprise.
‘You can’t tell me what to do,’ she protested, any admiration she’d felt towards him momentarily extinguished by his tone.
Joe stared at her. ‘Can’t I?’ he countered, his mood deteriorating rapidly, and her lower lip jutted.
‘Mum—’
‘Oh, just go upstairs, Daisy.’ Rachel didn’t appreciate Joe’s interference either, but it was easier not to get into it with the girl present. ‘Please.’ She softened the word with a slight smile. ‘I’ll call you when you can come down again.’
Daisy pursed her lips but, after a few moments, she slouched moodily out of the room. A few seconds later, they heard her climbing the stairs.
Rachel waited until she’d heard the door to Daisy’s bedroom bang closed before giving Joe a frigid look. ‘I hope you don’t expect me to apologise,’ she said. ‘Thanks to her father, Daisy is in the middle of all this. Naturally, she feels confused.’
‘You think?’ Joe propped his hips against the counter opposite and folded his arms. ‘I thought that was me.’
‘You?’ Rachel was taken aback now. ‘You’re not confused.’
Joe shrugged, as if that might be open for discussion, but all he said was, ‘I am also in the middle of this feud you’ve got going with Steve.’
Rachel tried to calm herself. ‘It’s not a feud.’
‘Then what is it?’ Joe’s dark brows ascended. ‘I gather the divorce wasn’t an amicable one.’
‘Did Steve tell you that?’
He had, but Joe wasn’t about to admit it. ‘It seems fairly obvious,’ he said, avoiding the question. ‘Why don’t you want Daisy to spend time with her father? Just because you don’t get on—’
‘I’ve never stopped Daisy from seeing her father,’ Rachel broke in hotly. ‘And, if he’s told you I have, he’s lying.’
Joe sucked in a breath. ‘So how come Steve hasn’t had any physical contact with Daisy since he left England?’
Rachel gasped. ‘I don’t have to explain myself to you!’
‘Humour me.’ Joe didn’t really know why he was pursuing this except that she seemed so frustrated. ‘You have to admit, it’s twelve months since he and Lauren moved to Florida.’
‘I know.’ Rachel hesitated, but the need to defend herself drove her on. ‘But—well, at Christmas, Daisy didn’t want to visit her father. Her grandparents would have been so disappointed if we hadn’t had Christmas Day with them, and school started again at the beginning of January.’
‘Okay.’ Joe shrugged. ‘I’ll accept that you wouldn’t want to send Daisy away at Christmas. But according to Steve she could have visited earlier this year.’
‘You mean at Easter?’ Rachel’s nostrils flared. ‘Didn’t he tell you? Daisy was ill at Easter. She had glandular fever and, if you know anything about the disease at all, you’ll know that it can take months to recover fully. As a matter of fact, I phoned Steve and asked if there was any way he could come and see her.’ Rachel’s nails curled into her palms when she remembered her ex-husband’s response. ‘He—he said he already had plans for the holiday. Which obviously didn’t include crossing the Atlantic.’
Joe frowned ‘He didn’t tell me that.’
Rachel snorted. ‘I wonder why.’
‘You don’t like him much, do you?’
‘I don’t like what he’s trying to do to me and Daisy,’ said Rachel flatly.
‘What is he doing?’ Joe was curious.
‘It doesn’t matter.’
‘I’d still like to know.’
‘Why?’ She turned to the bags on the table and started unloading their contents. ‘So you can tell Steve what a mean, resentful cow I am when you go home?’
Joe caught his breath. ‘Hey, you’ve got some attitude there!’ he exclaimed. ‘I don’t think you’re mean or resentful. I just think you and Steve have got your wires crossed and you both need to sort yourselves out. For Daisy’s sake.’
‘Yeah, right.’
Rachel had started putting perishable items into the fridge, but now Joe couldn’t prevent himself from moving round the table and grabbing her arm. ‘Hey,’ he said, immediately aware of her soft flesh beneath his fingers. ‘I’m not your enemy.’ He released her again, unconsciously rubbing his palm down the seam of his jeans, as if that would remove the tantalising memory of her skin. ‘I’m just trying to understand what’s going on here. Fill me in. Tell me about when Steve still lived in London.’
Rachel shivered. It was the first time he’d touched her, and she was overwhelmingly aware that her response had been far from indifferent. For a moment, her senses had been assaulted by the clean, male scent of his body, his heat briefly robbing her of the will to move away. She was aware of her nipples pebbling beneath her cotton tee shirt, a melting feeling that centred somewhere low in her abdomen, turning her limbs to water.
Realising she had to get a hold of herself, she shoved the pack of cheese she was holding into the fridge and backed up against the closed door. That was better, she thought, feeling the chill cooling her spine and causing goose bumps to take the place of the beads of sweat that had feathered the back of her neck.
Then, without exactly looking at him, she said, ‘Why should it matter to you?’
Joe shook his head. Damned if he knew. He didn’t know what the hell he was getting into here, but he knew