By Request Collection April-June 2016. Оливия Гейтс
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blinked back, wondering what one was supposed to say to a child. Sam looked around at his mother, who was pulling milk from the fridge in the small kitchenette and pouring it into a jug. ‘It’s okay, Sam, you remember Leo,’ she said reassuringly as she put the jug in the microwave, and Sam turned and careened straight into his mother’s legs, hiding his face between them.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said, hoisting him to her hip in one efficient movement, although it wasn’t so much the efficiency that impressed Leo but the unexpected way the sudden angle of her hip displayed the long line of her legs. His mouth went dry, his blood went south. Strange really, for here she was, dressed in a cheap cotton nightgown, a toweling robe sashed at her waist and with a baby at her hip, and maybe it was her tousled hair, or the jut of that damned hip, or even the fact she’d just blown his world apart in bed—twice—but suddenly he was thinking about a third time.
The microwave pinged.
‘Ping,’ cried Sam, holding his hands out. ‘Ping!’
One-handed, she poured the milk into some kind of cup, fixing on a spout before passing it to the boy. ‘Here’s your ping, Sam.’ Leo watched her, admiring the way she looked so at ease working one-handedly. Sam dropped his bear to clasp the cup in his pudgy hands, gulping deep. ‘Sam’s used to joining me in bed in the morning,’ she said, bending over to retrieve the bear and giving his sex a hell of a jolt in the process. Until, through the fog of rising testosterone, it occurred to him that she was about to bring Sam back to bed.
‘Although, admittedly,’ she added, already on her way, ‘he’s not used to finding someone else there.’
He tucked that piece of information away in a file that came marked with a tick, even as he gladly took her hint and pulled on a robe to vacate the bed. He liked the knowledge she didn’t often entertain at home. Sam was evidence she’d been with someone, and that wasn’t something he wanted to contemplate. He didn’t want to think there had been or were others.
‘I didn’t mean you had to run away,’ she said, settling Sam between the pillows. ‘It’s still early.’
‘I think I’ll go for a run.’
‘You haven’t had that much to do with babies or children, have you?’
‘Does it show?’
‘Blatantly. You might want to do something about that if you want people to believe you’re actually Sam’s father. The fact you’re travelling most of the year is no excuse for not knowing how to deal with the child who’s supposed to be your own.’
He shrugged, knowing he’d handled things badly last night, not even remembering his supposed son’s age, but uncomfortable with where the conversation was headed. ‘What do you suggest?’
‘Maybe you should try holding him from time to time. Even just hold his hand. Engage with him.’
‘Engage with him?’
‘He’s a person, Leo, just like anyone else. Maybe try directing all that animal magnetism you have at him instead of every woman you happen to meet.’
He looked at the child. Looked back at her, not sure who was making him feel more uncomfortable now. ‘But can he even understand what I say?’
She laughed. ‘More than you know.’
He sat down awkwardly on the side of the bed, watching Sam, Sam watching him as he swigged at his milk, his teddy tucked securely once again under his arm.
And Sam guzzled the last of his milk and held out his toy. ‘Bear!’
He looked on uncertainly, not sure what was expected of him, unfamiliar with this role. ‘I’m not sure I can do this.’
‘He’s offering it to you. Try taking it,’ she suggested.
He put out his hand toward the bear and Sam immediately rolled over, giggling madly, the toy wedged tightly beneath him.
He looked over at her. ‘I don’t get it.’
‘It’s a game, Leo. Wait.’ And sure enough the arm shot out again.
‘Bear.’
This time Leo made a grab for it. A slow lunge, and way too slow for Sam, but he loved it anyway, squealing with glee as he hid his teddy.
The next time was nearly a draw, Sam winning by a whisker, and he was in stitches on the bed, his body curved over his prize, and even Leo was finding it amusing. ‘He’s quick,’ he said, and he looked at Evelyn, who was smiling too, although her eyes looked almost sad, almost as if…
‘I’ll go take a shower,’ he said, standing abruptly, not interested in analysing what a look like that might mean. He didn’t do family. He’d told her that. And if the shadowed remnants of last night’s nightmares had reminded him of him anything, it was that he could never do family. He dared not risk it. He was broken, and that was just the way it was.
So she could look at him any damned way and it would make no difference. Because after two more nights with her, he would let her go for ever.
He didn’t want anything more.
And he definitely didn’t want her pity.
They were all meeting after breakfast at the dock, ready for a day’s adventure. A morning sail, and then a helicopter trip over the more far-flung sights of the islands and the reef. Hannah had already collected Sam and taken him up to the main house where there was a large playroom filled with toys and games and all surrounded by secure fences so he couldn’t get into trouble if he wandered off. Which meant Eve had a rare few hours without Sam, not to work but to enjoy her beautiful if temporary surroundings, and the heated attention of a man just as beautiful and temporary, if a lot more complex.
He held her hand as they wended their way along the palm-studded sand toward the dock on the bay, the whispering wind promising a day of seductive warmth, the odd scattered white cloud offering no threat, and the man at her side promising days and nights filled with sinful pleasures.
Now that she had made her decision, and had Leo’s commitment that he wouldn’t abandon her if the worst happened, as Sam’s father had done, she was determined to enjoy every last moment of it. Maybe she was crazy, but she trusted him, at least on that score. And there was no question that he didn’t lack the means to support a child.
The morning sun kissed her bare arms where it infiltrated the foliage, the air fresh with salt and the sweet scent of tropical flowers. Ten whole degrees warmer up here than Melbourne’s showery forecast, Eve had heard when she’d flicked on the weather channel while feeding Sam his breakfast. She could think of worse ways to spend the time waiting for a new hot water service to be installed.
She glanced up at the man alongside her, his loose white shirt rolled up at the cuffs, with designer stubble adding to his pirate appeal, and with one look the memories of their love-making flooded back, warming her in places the sun did not reach. Oh, no, she would have no trouble enjoying her nights with him either.
‘You look pleased with yourself.’
‘Do I?’ Only then did she realise she’d been smiling. ‘It must be the weather.’
‘Good morning!’ Maureen said, greeting them, looking resort elegant in linen co-ordinates in taupe and coffee colours. ‘How was the bure? Did you all sleep well?’
Eve smiled. ‘It’s just beautiful. I love it here.’
‘Everything is perfect,’ Leo added, slipping an arm around Eve’s shoulders, giving her arm a squeeze. ‘Couldn’t be better.’
‘And Sam’s okay with Hannah? You’re not worried about leaving him, are you?’
Eve shook her head. ‘Hannah’s wonderful. He’s having the time of his life.’
The older woman looked from one to the other and smiled knowingly. ‘I hope you understand why we were so keen to drag you away from Melbourne.